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Not This Again
When I was in my late twenties
I met an old man while working on a
Job with a friend of mine up in
Port Angeles Washington state
He was dressed in overalls and
A blue denim shirt and was wearing
A cap possibly a railroad cap
There wasn’t anything about his
Appearance that would make
This encounter very special
Except for what he said
He was old and tired and hoped
He’d soon be crossing over to
The other side and I being young
And full of life tried to comfort him
By saying that that couldn’t be true
That he wasn’t that old (though I
Didn’t really know how old he was)
But he was resigned to his fate
Which he hoped would come
Sooner than later
Now I am that old gentleman
Dressed in overalls and old
T shirts and work boots and
An old baseball-style cap
I am tired and it seems I’m
Waiting on death just like him
Somewhere along the line
I started aging faster than my years
Must be my wild and wooly lifestyle
And my boozy ways catching up to me
Whatever the cause some mornings
When I wake up I find myself thinking
Not this again
Democracy
The Arab Spring --
What fruit is born from
Bloody soil?
Putin driving deep into Georgia --
What does a tyrant know of freedom?
The invasion of Iraq –
Suddenly it’s time to unseat
The butcher of Baghdad?
Centuries of brutality in
Democracy’s name as if
It is the name of the newest
Baddest boy on the block
The fair-haired boy that
Everyone loves and wants to
Emulate
Mothers want his blessing
Fathers swell with pride and
Hold parades in his honor
Sons want to champion his causes
And daughters dream of his embrace
DEMOCRACY
The sanctity of the word
Blinds us to abuses
In its name
Democracy
As a concept
Is not a desired ideal for most
Even here in the USA
One man – one vote?
Too much mucking about
Too much wasted time
Too many opportunities missed
Too much free thinking
A danger in these times of
Security alerts and
Terrorism
Who’s watching the hen house?
Who will protect the American way?
And our misguided belief that
God is on our side
That we can do no wrong
As long as our actions
Serve democracy
Democracy
Is the most important word
A word beyond question
A sacred word
A word misunderstood
Because the word has been
Cheapened by sham
& greed
This word / wor(l)d
Means nothing
Is nothing to
Our enemies
So we are told
Our godless enemies
Who value life
Less than we
Live for the day of
Victory over us
Just as we vie for
That same victory
Over them
We are locked in
A struggle that will never end
All in the name of
Democracy
Our American DEMOCRACY
It is a source of
Endless sadness
Everyone’s Looking For An Angle
I’ve become complacent to the
Weirdness that surrounds me.
While some of my friends
Scoff at all the weirdos that
Roll down the streets each day
I don’t see what the harm is:
Transvestites in haphazard outfits
Stroll through the business district
Window shopping for something
That will compliment some
Future ensemble.
Queer folk roaming freely
Flaunting – some would say –
Their lifestyle finally allowed
To be “out” by most of the
Voting electorate.
Punk rockers in their forties
Knuckleheads with their families
Tattooed to the max
The illustrated men & women
Of Long Beach – even I have one!
The walking insane who are not
Too far gone but who may be moving
Into or coming back from its seductive
Siren’s call – wandering the streets
Searching for the scene of their ‘crime’
The place where their train derailed
And their quixotic journey began.
Pre-op transsexuals looking oddly
Out of place – their sexual identities
Not the only thing askew in their world.
Mystics and con artists
Poets and painters
Shopkeepers and ‘suits’.
I’m not judging but merely observing
And from what I’ve seen
Everyone is looking for an angle.
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