under garish glow of tweets on the screen…

the brown bag prophet
said
seems to me
that
the moral majority
has been
replaced
by
the core
of
corruption
who’ve
lifted
deception
as
the golden calf
to be
worshipped
by
a nation
of
shylocks
who seem
to
totally relish
dancing on
the
shattered constitution
with
congressional prostitutes
dressed
in
publicly funded
flowing robes
robes
of
red
white
and
blue
but mostly
white
and
as for
the original
ten commandants
that
are
the foundation
of
major religions
well
those
by
presidential decree
and
his personal validation
have been
reduced to powder
under
the grindstone
of
greed
oh
how we need
another
miracle
from god
something other
than
a burning bush

ain’t your…

since we know
you have
a short
little
attention span
we’ll start
with
the bottom line
we ain’t
your
anything
i
ain’t your brother
and
she
ain’t your sister
i
ain’t no pimp
and
she
ain’t no whore
i
ain’t on unemployment
and
she
ain’t on welfare
i
ain’t waiting for salvation
and
she ain’t waiting on you
i
ain’t like your pedophile president
and
she ain’t like his playboy reject
i
ain’t gonna shuffle
and
she
ain’t gonna shake it
i
ain’t hateful
and
she
ain’t fearful
we could go on
but
i think
even
you
can grasp
we
ain’t
your anything

to whom it may concern…

do not
lay me down
into the frozen ground
where bones
become
as cold
as winter’s breath
no
cast my ashes
into the wind
that i might sail
free
to lands
i’ve never seen
nor
pondered
upon
and
if
there be
no
breeze
then
pour me
into the sea
to catch
a current
to those
childhood treasures
seen upon
the silver screen
but
whatever course
i must take
let me not
stay here
buried
with human fears
in a land
where chains
are wrapped around
each person’s thoughts
thoughts
that bind them
to
their savage past

the cube…

at first
i was unaware
of
its existence
my universe
seemed
endless
filled
with
colorful nebulae
but
all too soon
the black and white
ceiling and walls
came into view
what
i thought
was
freedom
was
no more than
an elaborate cage
where
each passageway
lead to another enclosure
like
stages of life
where
opportunities
appear to be viable
but
the black & white veins
of
each
soon revealed
the outline
of
the next cube
and
the limits
it
imposed upon me
as
i’ve grown older
i’ve learned
to avoid
the more fatal traps
that
have taken the lives
of
others
i’ve seen
on my journeys
outside
of my
designated cube
i’ve also
learned
how to survive
on my own
not
depending on the myth
of
equality
so now
i rest
my feet
firmly planted
on
the floor
of life
that no doubt
will soon
give
way

hiding in plain view…

the ugliness
of this nation
is
visible
but
like
the emperor’s
new clothes
the senate
and
the courts
refuse
to admit
to
the naked hate
and
lawless ambition
parading
down
white
marble corridors
corridors
which were
once
reserved
for those
who
truly care
for
human rights
and
dignity
it ‘s
a matter
of
protocol
politicos
say
adding
we must endure
such
behaviors
out of convention
but
we have
good intentions
for
the future
however
i recall
that
the road
to hell
is paved
with good intentions

guising…

running door to door
like a swarm of angry bees
ignoring danger
children dash to collect treats
like a self-centered nation

america singing an old tune…

the brown bag prophet
said
when i was young
it was
illegal
for a black
to marry
someone white
though
some brave souls
did
and
were punished
in ways
most cannot understand
but then
the laws changed
and
blacks
could marry
anyone
but
they paid
in ways
most cannot understand
now days
it’s politically incorrect
to mention race
or
gender preferences
unless
you’re one of
the president’s men
who clearly
state
you’ll pay
in ways
most
cannot understand