Oil Sands Battle

Is it really worth it,
To be worried about,
Something like the affect of the Oil Sands,
On Canada's devout,

Desire to protect Mother Nature?
Probably I'd say, 'yes',
But there's another reason to fight them,
That tends to generate more true duress,

It is the chance that the economy,
Is being affected,
That the high dollar's killing worker's jobs,
Like Mulcair predicted.

It's the fear that,
The people might just rise,
Tree-huggers, unions and the struggling class.
The blues need more prop'ganda I surmise!

Must Go

There was something to say,
Now it's lost forever,
Without no time to meditate on it,
For there are no flowers,

Of inspiration or self-direction,
Just a vague impetus,
To get something down on this blank, white screen,
Lest the day go by without some genius,

Which is certainly not coming out here,
But at least it's something,
Some legacy, if but only in mass,
Like the whole history of the clergy.

Or like the bomb,
I have yet to see one,
But am in awe of the earth's quantity,
And their potential for its destruction.

So Two Thousand

So, I have reached a goal,
So, I've flipped to the past,
So I can resume the song in my head,
So many years since last,

So few people listened to it I said,
So what? That's just my show,
So I will continue per my instinct,
So there'll be something only I'll know,

So extremely obscure and unwanted,
So one day I could say,
"So, looking back now did I do something?"
So, look, this is the day!

So many years,
So many more to go,
So that I can reach ten thousand one day,
So deep in my heart, that's really my goal.

The Sickening Story of Comfort Women

This is a sad story,
You prob'ly shouldn't read,
'Bout total disregard for human rights,
A decades old foul deed,

Women made to 'comfort' mil'tary men,
Under a lot of stress,
Intended to purge their virility,
Amidst wartime's unnatural duress.

O'er two hundred thousand of these women,
Contrived into sex slaves,
Fuck you, "they're a necessary system,"
They're pawns of the depraved.

Now here they are,
Not many still survive,
With no recognition of their suff'ring,
Reliving the dread each day they're alive.

Good Morning

I'm up very early,
I have a job to do,
Can't think of another situation,
That I'd do this, can you?

I like to go for early morning walks
Softly through morning dew,
Or the odd traipse across forbidden lands,
Believe me, I have risked more than a few.

But what else will get you up early dawn,
Your body begging you,
For rest lest you bring on some fatal sick,
And incomplete thoughts, too?

It's of course work!
Dare I say it anew?
One spends most of ones life working to live,
Does that mean spending most of your life, too?

The Way To Think

This is just no way,
To express one's deep thoughts!
Here I am with two kids to entertain,
Watching, "What say, the fox?"

I should be in an arm chair, my eyes closed,
That's the way one thinks!
Not distracted by the random thoughts of,
Children randomly thinking of odd things,

Things they know nothing about for they're new,
The children, not the thoughts,
Innocence isn't the route to wisdom,
One once must have once fought.

I must get free,
And learn from my own past,
Hist'ry's proved things should be done as it's been,
The best way is the way it was done last.

Grumps

There're a lot of runners,
In old Boston MA,
Sidewalks, parks, even through the public T,
Night, morning, through the day,

They're running up your ass, towards your balls,
Wearing all sorts of garb,
Spandex, camel sacks, toques, mitts, fanny packs,
Sprinting through intersections like retards,

Splashing!   Weaving! Being all fit and stuff,
Enough to make you sick,
They could all jog right into the harbor,
I wouldn't give a lick.

'Cause here's the thing,
I like to run also,
But when I'm the guy having to watch it,
It's like seeing a car accident show.

What's Joy?

There are often last days,
The ends of an era,
That when passed seem like only just a dream,
You know what I mean, ma?

Days that make you wonder if real'ty's,
In the past or to come,
Or if one's most fantastic fantasies,
Really are less than weakest perception.

Aren't there people who drink away life,
Reliving the hey days?
You look at them, shake your head with pity,
Think they hold truth at bay.

But who are you?
A different person,
You've no clue what brings joy to someone's mind.
D'y'even know what's your mind's predilection?

Missed One

How do people do it,
When they have lost themselves,
Caught up in journeys led by their bodies,
Their souls left on the shelf,

No time to think about the world they're in,
As if time has an end,
Like what you do to keep your flesh alive,
Is existences be all and all end,

Thinking only about what must be done,
In service of someone,
Who only wants it done to serve themselves,
Again, ad naseam?

It has e'er been,
For many in this life,
With moments of deep self-realization,
That we're the creators of our own strife.

Feeling Good!

When there's not enough hours,
Or minutes to get done,
What has to get done by a certain time,
And you're feeling tension,

As someone once said to me in that case,
You're not feeding the poor,
Which really provided some perspective,
And made my shoulder blades achy no more.

Then I walked down the street, a snowy day,
Cold enough to freeze balls,
Said, "no," as I passed a man with a cup,
On my way to the mall.

It was so true!
I'm not feeding the poor,
I am too focused on not feeling like,
I've responsibilities anymore.

A Helping Hand

Sometimes things transpire,
As if the universe,
Has heard your calls and wants to help you out,
No matter how perverse,

Through intervention of the highest shock,
From places yet unknown,
Circuitously provided by those,
Who know not the act'ul truth of their role,

And if these things happened all of the time,
We'd call them normal things,
But it's instead divine intervention,
Not commonly believed,

But I've seen it,
Sure, not everyday,
I've also never seen the earth's insides,
But it's as hot as the sun, so they say!

Use Your Brain

Something's brewing up there,
The seed of an ideer,
I'm hoping if I just leave it up there,
It will come out all clear,

Just spew out of my brain a finished thing,
'Cause I've been laboring,
Even if my consciousness don't know it,
Like that Lee don't know Jones' plans, oo wee!

What else do you think the brain is doing,
While you're muddling about,
Using hardly any of its power,
Like your kids when you're out,

It is plotting,
You better know its plans,
And get it started on some useful ones,
Or live like a pair of arms with no hands.

Intrinsic Value

It sure feels like Christmas,
In this Boston Starbucks,
I know because the song playing says so,
But I don't care that much,

I'm immune to these messages of joy,
These purchasing prompters,
It's a shame that buying can't be forgot,
I don't think that's what humans were made for.

We're made for loving each other so that,
We can keep on growing,
Making cool stuff that improves the world,
And improves our knowing,

Instead, somehow,
We've attached some value,
Completely exterior to all things,
As if nat'rly it was always meant to!

You Are Unique

It is overwhelming,
Trying to stake your claim,
When everywhere you turn there's another,
Person seeking a name,

Like in order to succeed in this world,
There are mountains to climb,
Made of millions of bodies climbing, too,
Pulling on your clothes to try and get by,

Of course it all depends on where you are,
Amidst this mountain range,
There are those who find helping hands who help,
Them find wealth and fame.

They're lucky ones, 
They may have talent, yes,
But no more than many others who work,
And find themselves in the mountain's abyss.

If I Should Die

If I suddenly die,
Check the veins in my head,
Sometimes I feel a pain in diff-rent spots,
Something pops, and I'm dead,

Or maybe check inside my intestines,
Sometimes after I eat,
My stomach hurts, there's sensitivity,
'Cause I've had dairy products or some wheat,

Also, I've always thought this nagging cough,
Was due to the weather,
Or pollution particles in the air,
Like a tickling feather.

That could kill me.
Look, all I am saying,
It's possible that I could one day die,
But no autopsy should you be paying.

Meh

What does it mean when dreams
Get more lucid and real,
As if you're slowly transitioning to,
A world where you just feel,

A world where people don't worry about,
Whether you make sense,
As if what is really important is,
One's act'al existential exper'ence,

Which is what it is I like about you,
You are just like a dream,
Forgetting what I did a minute past,
Exac-itally like me.

Now I forget,
What we're talking about,
So let us just discuss for a minute,
How dreams leave you feeling no fear or doubt.

You Are What You Eat

Should I have eaten Poo
Pad Pong-Garee last night?
I can't say I'm feeling fantastic now,
Though I'd left not one bite,

But now I'm halfway between believing,
Something has gone awry,
And that I'm just tired this early morning,
That this will pass by the time I arise,

Then there's the crab-induced lucid dreaming,
Spawning self-reflection,
Like the discomfort one feels from Peyote,
An hallucinogen.

I guess we'll see,
If I get through today,
Then this event's helped me form who I am,
Which is a Poo Pad Pong-Garee-No-Way!

Fighting for Health

Cold, cold, please go away,
Surely, I can fight you,
If my mind asks the body just rightly,
There will be no more flu,

'Cause that is how every ailment is fought,
No matter what docs say,
If mind controls everything body does,
Then battles for health are under its reign,

So maybe I need to send some pills down,
To begin the parlay,
Or meditate, I really don't care which,
I don't have time today,

Nor the next, too,
I am a busy guy,
If my body can't get that through its head,
I'm going to have a talk with my mind!

On Track

It's hard to stay focused,
That's all I've got to say,
Thinking about thinking about it more,
Will just ruin my day.

That being said, you could e'er take the tack,
That focus could arise,
In spurts like the expulsions of geysers,
Or in escapes like the blink of the eyes,

As long as your mind doesn't lose the thread,
S'there's no need to return,
But only find yourself where you left off,
With no need to relearn.

Then all's the same,
As if you went years,
Without a break in your concentration.
Time's real just when memory interferes.

In A Rush

Sometimes things just work out,
Like the world wants it to,
Like there's a force that controls everything,
And has a hard-on for you,

As if you’ve discovered a connection,
Not explained by science,
As if there's anything that couldn't be,
Like those ignorant claim with defiance.

E'en if God himself took me to his pad,
As if he existed,
I'd search through his medicine cabinet,
To prove he could be dead,

Without his meds,
Just like any of us.
Th'only reason he's seemed unknowable,
Is he's keeping us from the IRS.

Good Morning

This one's a throw away,
Just have to get it done,
Like when you need to clean your plate with bread,
Because it's tradition,

But does that mean you've attained quality?
Well, you have in a way,
Making such an act nat'ral as breathing,
Is like modifying Mom Nature's ways,

Or telling the world you're something not right,
According to its laws,
Like so many things that are now nat'ral,
Solely, only because,

Someone once dared,
To stand up for their rights,
Stating that what they are is just alright,
Then also being brave enough to fight.

Back on Smack - I Mean Track

Now that engrossment's gone,
Like Mandela's demise,
Ukraine and Thailand protests, Jung-on's unk,
Have been moved down the line,

We'll return to Rob Ford,
The police have released more evidence,
By order of a judge,
And everyone's suspense,

So now we know that he's done heroine,
Not really a big shock,
He offered five kay and a car for him,
On film while smoking rock.

He's still all smiles,
Nor will police arrest,
Begging the biggest, ultimate question,
Is he forgiven by the elect'rate?

R.I.P. Mandela

How d'you fit such a life, >
Into sixteen short lines,
Already taken up by these three here?
Words compromised for rhymes.

Born of royalty, a runaway, too, -
Forenamed "troublemaker",
Tata was a boxer, runner and proud, -
He'd early int'rests in the black future,

Learned g'rrilla warfare in Ethiop'a, -
Were you aware of that?
A lawyer asking for arms from China, >
So justice could be had.

A time's product.
Think what we could all be,
If our great minds need not fight injustice,
Or for human rights, love and liberty.

The Yemeni Knot

Ex President Saleh,
Likened ruling Yemen,
Sim'lar to "dancing on the heads of snakes".
They event'lly bit him,

Aft thirty years, end of two-eleven,
Protests forced him away,
Sprung up in the midst of the Arab Spring,
No amount of dancing could help him stay.

No surprise the agile mind needed to rule,
Look at where Yemen sits,
'Tween strict Sheikhs to the north and chaos south,
Al-Qaeda in its midst.

So, who's to blame,
For this latest car bomb,
And continuous gun fights in the streets?
There may be too many snakes to pick one.

Changing Time

Sometimes there is no time,
Like literally, none,
Like if your deadline was the death of you,
You would now be no one.

Like even if you knew that you had time,
To live when you've finished,
Even if you thought you had fifty years,
Your whole mind's focused on what you've been dished,

Like time itself is compressing your spine,
Like it is something real,
Like moments of it's only what matters,
No longer how it feels.

There was a time,
When all it ever did,
Was feel like something after it had passed,
'Cause that was the only time that mattered.

North Korea Shake-Up

Chang Song-thaek has been fired,
Dismissed by his nephew,
In North Korea, a place so tight-lipped,
The story mayn't be true,

But if it is, the news is double-edged,
Like torturing satan,
Can you justify a horrendous act,
If it is a just compensation?

Not that Chang was an abs'lutely bad guy,
Or his ex'cuted peeps,
Midst the dearth of ninety-eight he coolly,
Fed the people bark and leaves.

That's pretty smart,
P'haps a sign of genius,
Jong-un should've sold him to U.S. banks,
To teach them how to more better squeeze us.

The Ukraine Is Not Weak

Twenty-two years post r'lease,
From Soviet control,
Ukraine's baggage has not disappeared and,
Russia's gotta red soul,

Well, it's more like the old pow'rs still got juice,
And the Ukraine still needs,
Vast economic benefits from them,
Free to walk, but still only on its knees,

So the people've stood up, demanding deals,
Be made with the EU,
Riots, protests of hundreds of thousands,
Stormed gov'ment buildings, too!

Even in Risk,
Its pressures are varied,
Constantly needing to nurture new ties,
And those to which it's already married.

More Thailand Upheaval

It's a course in protests,
Trying to understand,
The course of events leading to latest,
Gen'ral strikes in Thailand,

Since ending monarchy in thirty-two,
Thailand's had the gamut,
Mil'tary rule to moc-democracy,
Leading to today's confused government,

Led by the sis of ex-leader Thaksin,
Who mil'tary did end,
Now saving her 'gainst calls o'er TV by,
Ex-deputy PM

Khun Thaugsuban.
Now riots in the street,
Are fought with tear gas and water cannons,
'Til either c'rruption's or c'rruption's defeat.