The Victors

You see the victors on parade,

Their smiles of sweet relief.

You hear their proffered words of thanks

For the ending of their grief.

But what they do not realize

Through their newfound lack of pain

Is that to stay victorious

They’ll have to win again.

They’ll have to reface challenges.

They’ll have to reforge swords,

Reconquer their old demons

And rechallenge hated hoards.

They’ll have to suffer all again

And all this not to grow

But just to stay a victor:

And maintain the status quo.

Yes we conquered those we feared

And silenced those we hate,

But should we take such lavish pride

In merely stalemate?

So watch the victors on parade

But envy them do not!

You would not wish on anyone

The pain the victors brought

Nor would you wisely wish to feel

Their pride in wielding well

The arms and armor of the war

That merged the Earth and Hell.

One day we’ll see no victory,

No men will march with pride.

We will erect no monuments

For those who bravely died.

We’ll stand without a trophy

And we’ll not conceal our grins

For all will be the victors

Come the day when no one wins.

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Poem: Bad, Pun: Also Bad

We who play accordions

Know the Native Americans want us

Because they want to have a kid

And name it Polkahontas.

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Bad Parental Advice

I did something stupid.

They asked “why did you?

“If your parents where lemmings

Would you be one too?”

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Democrats

All white males suck

Because they are prejudiced

Based on race and sex.

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Dear Not-America, Love The U.S. of A

Hello from America,

Where we play real football!

Our dicks are the same size as yours

Although you’re not as tall.

Our women spend more money

And our kids aren’t well-behaved

But we have free tap water

And most of our roads are paved.

We owe your nation money

That we’ll never repay

But we also have lots of nukes

So please do what we say.

Our politicians are all crooks

And most are wimps as well

But we pledge them our allegiance

And pretend that things are swell.

But speaking patriotically

Our country’s still the best

At drinking booze per-capita

And functioning while stressed.

Here’s how you can emigrate

From where you live right now:

Just walk to California

And never leave. Kapow!

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The Farmer’s Breakup

If you see a cow

Running o’er the fields of Maine

Please tell her that I was wrong

And to please come home again.

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War Isn’t So Bad…

We’ve walked among some Autumn glades

Just us and the wind from the helicopter blades.

Falling gently to the ground

Are a leaf and some limbs and an M16 round.

A quaint little creek

Glitters bright mountain green

And, despite all our blood,

Is still cool fresh and clean.

We came here to camp,

Found these meadows to walk,

Because some old men

Wouldn’t sit down and talk,

But we can take solace

And our hearts can still sing

All thanks to the peace

That our murder will bring.

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