How art thou crazy? Let me count the ways…

Of a picnic, thou art short of sandwiches, thus.
And in thy belfry resideth many bats.
Thy engine runneth, but hath no one behind the wheel.
Thou art a man of many cases; of head, and basket, and nut.
And verily misplaced by thee hath been thy marbles.
How lost thou art in space.
How lost is thy plot.
Away with the faerie folk thou hast flown.
In a canoe, thou art, but sadly missing the essential oars.
Thy faithful rocking chair hath deposited thee thus on the floor.
A cage of many pads is the place for thee,
Since thou believeth thyself to be a tweeting bird:
The Great Orange Crested Trump Tit.

Concerning the Care and Maintenance of the Trump

It’s ego needs constant inflation,
Adoration and validation.
And it requires a weekly vacation,
From the pressures of running the nation.
Send it off to a rally or golf course,
Let it scream at its base till it’s hoarse.
Reassure, re-emphasize, reinforce,
Of all greatness, it’s the only source.
Give it lots of diet coke, and fast food.
Make sure it’s always in a good mood.
Don’t make it read things; that’s just rude.
Deviate from these rules, and you’re screwed.

June Gloom

It’s June,
So one would assume,
The weather would be pleasant,
And warmer still than clement May.
But then Ms. Gloom comes to stay.
Always with her clouds and rain,
And you sigh and mutter, not again.
No point in moaning or in asking why.
Just wait inside the house till warm July.

Pray on, Everyone.

Pray on, everyone.
As they prey on everyone.
Ask God to make it all okay,
While they’re ripping their own flesh away.
Because God had told them what to do.
The very same God you’re praying to,
To ask for comfort and help from Him.
Should He listen to you or to them?

Welcome To The Apocalypse

 

There’s them that make news
Them that make fake news
Then there’s fake fake news
That’s called satire
Sometimes it’s hard to tell till you come down to the wire,
But it’s no longer true that where there’s smoke there’s fire,
Before you share or shout better hold your horses,
Time to teach our children in their classes and courses,
Check your sources! Check your sources!

Things are turning quickly now,
The show is underway,
How long it’s gonna last,
Well really none of us can say,
We came in with a big bang,
Will we go out that way,
Come get your free tickets,
For the coming Judgement Day,

Welcome to the Apocalypse,
Check out the disturbing view,
14 billion years at our fingertips,
Now we’re about to see things through,
One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you…..

You’re gonna see things you never thought you’d see,
Things are gonna be the way you never thought they’d be,
Don’t believe what you read, or see on tv,
In an Orwellian world, only the chained are free,

Welcome to the Apocalypse,
Check out the disturbing view,
14 billion years at our fingertips,
Now we’re about to see things through,
One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you…..

Heads are tales and the tables have been turned,
Can’t trust any of the things that you’ve learned,
To save this village, it’s got to be burned,
The die is cast, the courtroom is adjourned,

Welcome to the Apocalypse,
Check out the disturbing view,
14 billion years at our fingertips,
Now we’re about to see things through,
One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you,

One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you

CHECK YOUR SOURCES! 

There’s them that make news,

Them that make fake news,

Then there’s fake fake news,

But that’s called satire,

Sometimes it’s hard to tell,

Till it comes down to the wire,

It’s no longer true that

where there’s smoke there’s fire,

Before you share or shout,

You better hold your horses, 

Time to teach our children, 

In their classes and courses,

Check your sources!

Check your sources!

The Statue of Bigotry

Picture it now, the colossal statue that Trump is going to erect of himself, with an arm outstretched and a palm facing east, his other arm clutching an executive order that reads:

Get back, wretched refuse,
To your teeming shore.
You are not wanted anymore.
Go back, wretched refuse,
To your lives of fear.
You are no longer welcome here.
You wanted refuge, I suppose.
But now the Golden Door is closed.
I lift no lamp to guide you to my land.
I lift only my tiny little hand.

Countless

From the crumbling, bullet-ridden houses,
Full of countless childhood pictures,
They fled.
From the smoldering cities,
Heavy with the smoke of countless fires,
They fled.
From the dust of countless broken buildings,
They fled.
Into the dust of the desert,
With countless broken people,
They fled.
Their countless dead,
And all their possessions,
Left behind.
In the fire.
In the dust.
Across the world, across the sea,
They fled,
For countless weeks,
They waited and hoped and prayed,
Their struggles, countless.
The horrors they’d witnessed, countless.
And then…
When they finally got there,
They were told,
That no one would help them.
That they were not wanted.
That they, the countless,
Did not count.

MIGHT NEED THAT LATER

MIGHT NEED THAT LATER

He’d say ”see ya in the funnies”,
And then he’d try to make one,
He could never resist,
Even the worst pun,
Kept all the rubber bands,
From his Globe & Mail,
And drawers full of clothes,
That he bought on sale,

He had so many kids,
Didn’t always know their names,
He’d call’em all George and Henry,
When they’d all play games,
He was always kinda short,
Even shorter in the end,
No one ever doubted,
Shirley was his best friend,

Yeah Pappa’s gone on
To gates so pearly,
No doubt St.Peter said
you’re a little bit early”
To which Pappa woulda said,
I’m here to see my Shirley”,

Knew his way around his tools,
And a welding torch,
In the old days he’d sit,
With a guitar on a porch,
Always a kind word,
To the cashier and waiter,
And kept every little thing,
Cuz he might need it later,

Sometimes he’d disappear,
In his room or on a ship,
He even disappeared
On a Las Vegas trip,
But we’d never ever worry,
Cuz we’d always know,
We could find him somewhere,
In the casino,

His emotions were never hung out on his sleeve,
Wasn’t quick to say what he didn’t believe,
He liked to joke and tease, could be an instigator,
He kept his love on a shelf,
Cuz he might need that later……

 

Love (because what else is there?)

And after life had had it’s way with me,

Sometimes shaken me,

Taken me,

Shoved me around,

Worn me down,

Let me taste joy,

Made sure to show me, that joy,

Was most often fleeting,

That there were challenges,

Constant challenges to be meeting,

Sometimes losing,

Sometimes beating,

When life had dragged me to the point,

Where I could be nothing else but strong,

Where I’d seen so much pain,

That the slightest beauty made me burst into song,

When I was at the point where I could still go on,

But could not take  much more,

Then,

And only then,

Did the universe deliver you,

Gently,

Warmly,

Spectacularly,

At my door.