Outta Hand (Poem)

Gettin hurbed by hurbs Gettin penned with the sheep Gettin played by chumps This is all outta hand Can’t say what ain’t kosher Can’t believe what is true Can’t fight with what we don’t have This is all outta hand

Another day in the pen… (Poem)

Another day trapped in the sheep pen Gettin fed all typa feed Camped up right side the sheep gate Waiting for my chance to flee I don’t know what they be sayin But I know it ain’t for me Cuz allz I know is I can see and what I see is blasphemy

Ready… Fire… AIM (Poem)

Ready… Fire… AIM… Why do I miss again and again? I hit everything except for the mark And when it’s over I take it to heart I blame the sheeple Blame the law Blame the fool DAMN THE HOOPLA I’m surrounded by morons Oh hither be

Just Remain Calm (Poem)

The kings of the world keep playing that song The one with the hook that says, “Just remain calm!”

The World is Full of Bums (Poem)

Filthy bums
Worthless incompetent swine

Didn’t yo Mamas ever tell you not to shit where you eat?

Ohhhh I can’t take it
I’m going out of my mind

The whole world is full of bums
Lazy fucks of every kind

Fighting over boxes
Doing their dirt in the voting line

Go Back to Your Slumber 2020 (Poem)

The election is over
Time to go back to your slumber
There’s nothing left for you to do but wait and watch
Don’t worry
He’ll fix it
He’ll get it this time
He’s different
He’s special
He’s one of a kind

A Vote for The People

Hordes of sheeple decked out in red, white and blue. Lined up in rows, waiting to cast their votes to allegedly decide who will dominate the airwaves for the next four years. A pointless tradition, I dare to say. But who am I to say anything? I’m just another incompetent cog in a system that cannot function without a skilled mechanic tinkering with every nut and bolt, or so they say.

The Sheep, The Wolves & The Pigs (Poem)

The Sheep have lost sight through their thick matted woolThey stay bumpin headsand forgot who is who Their shepherd the Wolves don’t know how to shearThey trick for the sakePrey on the fear The Pigs give a damn who or what can’t hold throughTheir trough is a flood that no one can chew