Economic Rights Is All Rights

Was an era when race,
Was on everyone's mind,
Was understood by most that equal'ty,
Was a matter of time,

Then eventu'lly everyone agreed,
Then the laws were improved,
Then made a day of MLK's b-day,
Then the discussion was pretty much moot,

Now the talk's still about inequal'ty,
Now of money, not race,
Now it's not right if someone has no chance,
Now of boosting their place.

Ask MLK,
Ask if race is equal,
Ask what the world should look like with the Love,
Asked by him from the Amer'can people.

The Marks of Life

I look in the mirror,
As I am writing this,
The bags usually under my eyes,
Do not seem to exist,

My face is fuller than it used to be,
'Cause I've been on the road,
With less time to dedicate to myself,
As my just coffee breakfast also shows,

Despite it all my eyes are still the same,
Though they've seen different things,
A curious trait unique to just them,
Untouched by life's happ'nings.

Then there's the brain,
It gets all the eyes see,
If I could see it in the mirror too,
Would I be surprised by much distorting?

Pessimism, Yes

Time may not be stopping,
While you pause to figure,
Your stand on various moral topics,
Representing fissures,

In the future of the world where you live,
You know what I'm saying,
There's death all around, not just over seas,
And you are just playing.

So the question is, what will you decide,
When you're on your deathbed?
That you did all you could to make world peace,
Or may as well be dead.

Yes, yes, I know,
You could spend your whole life,
Dedicated to helping others free,
And ne'er get close to relieving the strife.

The Privileged Few

They say it's ne'er too late,
To chase after your dreams,
Which begs the question, if you haven't yet,
Is your wish what it seems,

Or in your heart do you really want it?
It is a scary thing,
To put as much belief in what you do,
As from everyone else you're requiring.

Then you may have to admit to yourself,
You don't have what it takes,
You'd rather live a life of mute regrets,
Than really risk the stakes.

Isn't that true?
It`s the story of most,
Even if everyone tried their hardest,
There'd still be few who have reason to boast.

Just Tired

The news is getting tired,
It is never not sad,
Lybian kidnappings, child pornography
And bombs in Pakistan.

I am not just being pessimistic,
Isn't the goal world peace?
Just ask the women sold in the sex trade,
If they anticipate a greater ease,

Computers were promising simpler life,
They could take care of all!
No inequality or advantage,
If that's really our call,

But it is not,
We know we have the means,
Until human nature changes its tune,
The news will ever be filled with such scenes.

The Key To World Peace

I don't know what's bigger,
The news is really full,
Two dead in the Ukraine, five in Egypt,
Or Bieber's public D.U.I downfall.

The first is after three months resistance,
To a corrupt gov'ment,

The second, three years since revolution,

Put in a party now ruled terrorist.

But is there any parallel to find,

When Justin, aged 19,

Once the hope of both teens and their parents,

Collapses too, it seems?

It's all the same,
The human condition,
To understand the failures of soci'ty,
Just consider your last contemplation.

This Is The Ford That Never Ends

It has been a long time,
Since I've written of Ford,
His antics had exceeded the absurd,
And council cut the cord,

It was obvious he wouldn't alter,
His behavior at all,
All of his powers had been relinquished,
No one listened to him at City Hall,

Yet he kept on fighting for his beliefs,
Ignored charges 'gainst he,
Even now he stands tall in the face of,
A new film with Lisi!

So, what to say,
In this election year?
I guess if he continues to lose weight,
The Left might yet still have something to fear.

Stop Talking

There is not much to say,
It's all been said before,
By prophets, priests, parents and parasites,
And infinitely more,

They've said everything in a thousand ways,
In an attempt to change,
The behavior of the rest of the world,
With levels of success on a wide range.

They have talked and talked about love and right,
Still many have been killed,
So is there any point in saying more,
Or just keeping it real.

Up in the field?
Don't worry 'bout others,
Just keep quiet and look out for yourself,
And avoid getting stabbed by your brother.

An Ode to Airport Food

I'm eating a cookie,
I bought at the airport,
Still dear but yet the cheapest thing they got,
With coffee, it was four.

I think I'd rather die than buy their food,
Costly crap-covered chum,
Put out to lure trapped and tired travelers,
In a corral meant to hide an ocean.

It must be challenging to prepare 'food',
On such a immense scale,
But one would think that when it is this poor,
That it should be on sale!

I'm just venting,
Like that putrid sandwich,
I'm sure they're doing the best that they can,
They can't poss'bly be taking advantage.

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day

He had no allegiance,
To elephant or ass,
Like Hegel, he believed most things fell short,
Or just scooted right past,

The real point in the fight for equal'ty:
Simply, actually love,
Not the kind that makes you someone's servant,
Or that somehow puts the servant above,

He spoke of love using the Greek 'Agape',
God's love working through man,
Your mind rises above vi'lence or spite,
Right to the Promised Land.

Then he was killed,
In nineteen sixty-eight,
In Memphis aft speaking of his own death,
How, if God asked, he would not change his fate.

Fall From The Tree

If one's a product of,
Their parents' story,
Molded by how they got by in this world,
There's something gone from me.

An epic journey in search of freedom,
Both born in poverty,
In country hills in central Italy,
Boarded a ship to a foreign country.

The moment they set their foot back on land,
They were born once again,
Like Adam and Eve in god's paradise,
With original sin.

And they made it,
No more need for rebirth,
From their loins came I to chase the dragon,
'Til I'm again reintroduced to earth!

Take It Easy

I was just singing loud,
Eagles, Take It Easy,
In a decidedly annoying way,
To my work place colleague,

He didn't seem to mind, I'm not surprised,
How can you get angry,
When you hear the words sung to you, "Don't let
The sound of your own wheels drive you crazy."?

Because actually, who else can you blame?
You cannot give offence,
You can only take it, and that relies,
On your own common sense,

Your own self-worth.
If he did get annoyed,
I would have stopped but also lost respect,
For killing a thing that could be enjoyed.

Lucky You

I love hearing me speak,
Do you not love my kind?
There's nothing worse than listening to someone,
Who can't stand their own whine,

But my thoughts are so deep and int'resting,
It really is a joy,
To hear me spew whatever's on my mind,
Without the slightest danger to annoy.

You have a problem, I have the answer,
Just look at my own life!
You think something, I'll show you where you're wrong,
No time to be polite.

'Cause it's so rare,
To be so insightful,
That if I paused to hear your opinion,
I'd deny someone else my cock and bull.

Don't Stretch Out And Wait

I just have to do it,
Can't leave things anymore,
That are so integral to my mind's health,
That I'll be left life-poor,

Even if I somehow get filthy rich,
And can live on a beach,
Which really is my heart's deep fantasy,
If I just lied there it would still need seek,

Just like my mom told me when I was young,
Tell the Un'verse your needs,
But don't just sit and wait for them to come,
Or it can't plant the seeds,

It needs good soil,
Enriched with your desire,
A commitment to face what life gives you,
Lest lethergy become your fun'ral pyre.

Martin Luther King Jr - In Anticipation of his Day

I'm reading the doctor,
Mart' Luther King Junior,
What an inspiration for everyone,
In a still fucked up world,

He was educated in divin'ty,
A scholar through and through,
Connected to Sartre and Kierkegaard,
Sought links 'tween Lib'rals and orth'doxy, too,

First put to practice what his mind endorsed,
From being a student,
Leading the Montgomery Bus Boycott,
Non-Violent Resistence!

Because violence,
Only leaves bitterness,
But standing tall for your right to exist,
Shames the decent majority's conscience.

Random Meets

Met a writer last night,
Told her I was one, too,
Well, not 'til the end of the time we talked,
And I had had a few,

It was a random meeting borne of fries,
And the space beside me,
I, a young gentleman having a meal,
Clam chowder drawing her into the seat.

Conversation was not a guarantee,
Food broke me from my read,
Logic told me don't deny connection,
For it could plant a seed,

And grow my world,
Not 'cause it's all 'bout me.
But say this meeting sparked an idea,
That fueled a life-changing epiphany!

Cancelled Flights

Sometimes you're just waiting,
Usually for a plane,
Often because your flight has been cancelled,
'Cause airlines are insane.

Any other form of transportation,
Only requires you,
To show up on time and to get on board,
And please kindly do not take off your shoes,

But when you're flying, shoes off's the first thing,
An hour before take-off,
Then if you're not bumped 'cause they over-booked,
Space allotted for your bag's not enough.

But it's alright,
You will get a free drink,
And a salami smell from the air vent,
So, it is never as bad as you think.

On A Journey

Sometimes you're in a daze,
The routine gets you down,
Until it's broken and you find yourself,
In yet another town,

Focusing on figuring out the pace,
Until there's no routine,
Your mind doesn't know it, but home will shift,
Soon becoming the last thing that you've seen,

The bridges, diners, and friendly faces,
Finding new connections,
To the moments of your past that made you,
A redeconstruction,

Of who you are,
Identity's not set,
Like you're what you eat, so too what you see,
Guess what?  You haven't seen anything, yet.

Own Your Life

Any life is, of course,
Like a true fantasy,
One is born and somehow a path chosen
That no one could foresee,

Sure there are some who would help you to choose,
Whether you like or not,
But in the end the choices were all yours,
More often than not, not what others thought,

'Cause others can't see what is in your heart,
Often others are you,
For you're oft not taught how to know yourself,
For people rarely do.

But here's the thing,
Even after you've grown,
There's nothing to say that you still can't learn,
And salvage a life that's truly your own.

Stoner

A life so ord'nary,
Yet filled with epiph'nies,
Born a farmer into academic,
A wife's insanity,

Keeps him from his child, whom he loves dearly,
Who he was raising well,
Now dressed in costumes and told what to think,
In a real effort to make his life hell,

Barred from his wish to be a good teacher,
By jealousy and spite,
By a professor with something to prove,
Never e'en mind his wife!

That is Stoner,
Twentieth cent'ry Job?
A man just trying to follow his dreams,
With not a trace of ill-will in his bones.

Happy New Year!

Want this one to be good,
But you know the west coast,
When it is four o'clock in the morning,
You've had not even toast,

It's hard to put together the right words,
Especially when,
You're about to host ten thousand people,
Amidst, pins, games, interactives and tents,

For that's a window into what I do,
When I'm not doing this,
But this is something that I have to do,
Markedly on the first.

So HNY!
I hope it's a good one,
And when I say that I'm thinking of me,
But for you, too, after my own fortune!