Tag Archives: Freedom

Probably Murder Too, But…

This may be oversimplified

But I think there’s just one sin:

To sacrifice one’s love of life

In the hope you’ll somehow win.

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Today

He’s hiding in a cloud of dust,

Relearning how to never trust.

Her taillights shining in his eyes,

He doesn’t know just how it ended.

Her ears await the next catcall,

In jeans too tight and skin too small,

Praying to what she knows are lies

For the pleasure of being offended.

Both parties borrow from tomorrow

To hide from yesterday’s Pompeii.

They can’t forget about each other

So they settle to forget about today.

He held the door of the gilded cage

And didn’t understand her rage.

He thought he’d shown her chivalry

But she called it the living dead.

Her body language said “I’m cheap.”

She told him she was losing sleep.

He said “I’ll fix this. Hmm, let’s see,”

Then noticed she’d already fled.

They’re hiding from tomorrow’s sorrow

In yesterday’s hip hip hooray.

They hate but obey what they ought

And settle to forget about today.

They’re told by shadows high above

What they must think and say and love

Never asking if or why

Shadows live and love to lie.

They’d rather borrow from tomorrow

To pave the way for yesterday

But within them, on the highest shelves

Are two uncaged, unsullied selves

Whispering in voices clear

So only quiet minds can hear

The truth forbidden by the they:

No one ever lives beyond today.

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Al Capone, Libertarian

I ask you now to wonder

On the act of taking plunder

And on pirate-like behavior as a whole:

How does someone with a flag

Holding out a taxman’s bag

Compare to vagrants charging travelers a toll?

And what of other you’s and me’s

Traveling on the seven seas

When a Jolly Roger pulls their cannon out

And says “give us what you’ve got

“Or you’ll probably get shot.”

That’s what piracy and taxes are about!

Now sure, our brand of takers

Cheer beside you for the Lakers

And send you notes before they pull their gun

But they are not made less like Smeagol

Just because their theft is legal

And their pre-audit demeanor is more fun.

I’m not afraid to call BS

On our nation’s IRS.

Now excuse me, for I must go on the run.

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Hidden In Plain Sight

I am the bird who built her nest

Beside the onramp to I5.

On the road mens’ eyes are glued

As they drive to their servitude.

Millions see me every day

But almost none will notice.

They lose the chance to look at me

Because they have somewhere to be.

I eat a bug and flap my wings

And smell fresh air and gasoline.

They think they need the Earth and Sky

And long for what they cannot buy.

They can fly to planets

I’ll never know exist,

Yet I don’t mind my being small.

I am the freest of them all.

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First, Do No Harm

Today I’ve done nothing

But sit on my butt.

I woke up, closed the blinds,

Checked the door (locked and shut)

Then reveled for hours

Of sedentary bliss

Never once caring

About what I might miss.

And as nothing happened

For a fair bit of time

I had no new ideas

And committed no crime,

Consumed no nutrition

And didn’t make noise,

And somehow refrained

From molesting young boys.

I didn’t feel sadness,

Nor did I have fun

So for sunday the score is:

Catholics: 0, Poet: 1

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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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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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