The little worker ants Wear tinfoil hats To protect from the space lasersThey drink their bleach And swallow their Ivermectin To ward off the ‘foreign flu’Reality evades their little minds As they reject the defeat Chanting “Stop the Steal”All the while mocking the ‘fake news’ That reported truth Unbeknown to themselvesThe slight of hand of… Read More The Worker Ants 004
With elbow buried in the downy pillow I’ve lain and read, All through the night, a volume strangely written In tongues long dead. For at my bedside lie no dainty slippers; And, save my own, Under the paling lamp I hear no breathing :— I am alone! But there are yellow bruises on my body… Read More THE YELLOW STAINS – Gautier Théophile
A YOUNG chimera at my goblet’s brim Gave sweetest kiss amid the orgy’s spell. Emerald her eyes, and to her haunches slim The golden torrent of her tresses fell. Her shoulders fluttering pinions did bedeck. I sprang upon her back, for travel fain, And toward me bending firm her lovely neck, I plunged my tightening… Read More THE CHIMERA – Gautier Théophile
The Worker Ants ate their dinner By the glow of FOX News on TV No words round the table were heardTheir little brains numb and filled With misguided dreams The lies had taken root thereNo original thoughts escaped For they had been banned and forbidden Only the orange rhetoric was allowedAfter dinner they watched their… Read More The Worker Ants 003
The worker ants sat in their pews No mind paid to the orange shit on their heelsThe remnant of their leader’s lies that secrete Bigotry, violence and deceitWith smiles and half-closed eyes Their little minds becoming weaponizedThe message never changed Hate the different, attack the estrangedWhen the eulogy had been homogenized They marched back to… Read More The Worker Ants 002
The worker ants saluted and marched Their little heels archedNo questions they asked The truth never unmaskedNo concern for justice Only following their AugustusBlinded by fables They felt enabledTo hate, detest and attack Their neighbors to wrackRoy RichardDecember 2024
Memories Where have all my memories gone?Have they been whisked away by a thief?Discredited by censors?Sent to archive by my CPU? They should appear as a checkerboard.Red, black, red, black…..Good, bad, good, bed…..Aligned and ready for use. Instead, their appearance is a well stained lace tablecloth.The threads of good memories are often covered by the… Read More Memories
The pandemic was on the job training,An education for what was to come.From it we learned isolation and hopelessness,And a lack of faith in our leaders.This despondency stayed with us. Now as we enter an even darker phase,Fearing the unknown.We are somewhat prepared,Ready to hoard and protect,Ourselves and our social unit. Did the before time… Read More The pandemic was on the job training
Is it not evidentThat the status quoIs, no longer acceptable? Our nation’s leadersContinue down the same pathsAnd nothing changes After 248 yearsYou would think we have evolvedTruthfully, we have not Race, gender, sex, color, etc.All still have a dividing effectOn our fucked-up society Do not preach equalityLying to the massesThen walk a different path All… Read More Is It Not Evident
Now Uncle Bud was thought to be a ‘good man’, who knew his demons by their first names.He occasionally fell prey to the temptations and call of Whiskey, Beer, Women and Dice. He was considered to be a snazzy gentleman, with cigarettes rolled in the sleeve of his white cotton tee shirt.His hair perfectly styled… Read More The Ballad of Uncle Bud
Ramblings of an Old Coot 