IT AIN'T ALWAYS RIGHT

The jury is out
The judge is in his chamber
Dammit, I think they're gonna blame her
She was just splitting hairs with a battle axe
Didn't wanna pay her income tax
She was seein' red
When she struck the Irs man dead
Doused his corpse with gasoline
Lit a match with a jubilant scream
She was a little bit crazy, a little bit mean
Should'a made him disappear and got away clean

This won't take long
unless the jury is hung
and the moon made of cheese
It can't be that tricky
This case ain't that sticky
Just ask the police

What's it gonna be
Lock her up or set her free
String her up in the nearest tree
or gas her in the chair and double the indignity
Norman the forman is ready to declare
If it's curtains, or agony and tears
Forget about fashion stripes it this year
Gettin' in is easy, gettin' out's a bitch I hear

So the verdict was read
and this is what he said
She's not guilty not at all
Against the system she stood tall
What she did was justified
This was not a homicide
The courtroom erupted in cheers
Everybody toasted with champagne and beer

The judge banged his gavel
as decorum unravelled
and the court reporters
were fighting with the coke snorters
Panic began to spread
From the scene the jury fled
The benches they cleared
No one was spared

The poor attorneys
was rolled out on gurneys
away from the battlefield
What they were doing ?
thinking of suing
Just as soon as they'd heal

Ambivalence is how I feel
For now at last I must reveal
Perhaps it's best if she got life
Because this woman is my wife
And one day she may decide
She'd love me more if I died
And if the taxman cometh back
She'd give him too a mighty wack
To sum it up I have to say
I won't be going home today

TRAPPED IN A MIME

This is obviously a play on words. About two people who get together because they are basically outcasts in society. They are drawn to each other due to the common bond of being dealt a blow by forces beyond their control. I suppose this is sort of minimalist writing as the language is pretty straight forward with the emphasis on the story rather than attempting to be overly flowery prose wise.

I cannot talk
I am trapped in a mime
I have to make gestures
all of the time

No one comprehends
what I try to convey
Though it's quite transparent
what I am trying to say

Mom cut out my tongue
when I was only three
Put it in a jar
to keep it mocking me

She said children should
be seen, but never heard
And I never, ever
spoke a single word

People seem to think
I like to entertain
That I should feel much joy
yet I only feel disdain

They point and smile
as if what I do
is somehow important
if they only knew

One afternoon I saw her
watching from afar
Hair like a raven,
on her face a long white scar

Almost like a border
between her opal eyes
The separation of truth
from the shallow lies

She came around to watch me
every solitary day
I became most fond
of her loyal display

From my imagination
adventures I would conjure
Devoting my performance
only to her

The clouds layed heavy
pregnant with rain
Lightning flashing,
but still she came

The sweet wide grin
upon my longing face
No stormy weather
could hope to erase

Our clothes dripping
our bodies cold
I invited her home
I was feeling bold

I knew she had
a story to tell
I would proclaim with certainty
she would tell it well

Her mother tried to drown her
at the tender age of five
Playing possum staying still
was how she survived

A preacher tried to rape her
when she was merely ten
She slit his throat with a switchblade knife
so he'd never be tempted again

Once her father found her
working for a pimp
Tracked him down to a seedy motel
and tore him limb from limb

When she was close to eighteen
mom wants to finish the job
Hired her a hitman
a crackhead named Bob

Stoned to the rafters
wielding a fourty four
Shot himself in the foot
and fell to the floor

He was found in the morning
mostly dead to right
Her father took a baseball bat
and out goes the lights

He was buried in the garden
beneath the apple tree
With all the other bad assassins
he got good company

Her vindictive mother
no longer pose a threat
A discretely severed brake line
another most convenient death

She asked not for forgiveness
nor judgement of her tale
The catharsis of her revelations
expunged the suffocating veil

She saw in me an equal
one that would understand
Sometimes we make choices
because life forces our hands

She wondered about my silence
and shuddered when she knew
The reason why I never speak
why I must do the things I do

One mellow August morning
we closed the curtains to the past
and knitted close together
to forget the memories dark shadows cast

THE THING ABOUT HOLES

I started this one, but like many things I start I never finish. Usually due to lack of inspiration or I don't feel it's going anywhere. Here's a case where I thought in retrospect that it could end where I gave up on it. One note, I am using the European term for a cell phone.


There's a hole in the ground where I'm standing
Oh crap, I must be falling
better be calling
someone on my mobile phone
Isn't anybody home ?
HELLO...Damn, no reception
can't make a connection
As far as I can tell
I'm going straight to hell
I wish I had a parachute

THE BUTCHERS BOY

Here's a tale about a young individual who takes some traumatic events and turns it into something positive. In fact he is quite the entrepreneur. I do love a success story.


Did you hear about the butchers boy
so good with a cleaver
Chopped up his mother
Because she wouldn't let him leave her

Kept her head in a box
and the rest in the freezer
If he's feeling peckish
he might even eat her

Did you hear about the butchers boy
so good with a knife
When daddy came home from work
he took his unsuspecting life

What a mess he made
Blood in every nook and cranny
But he cleaned it with some bleach
before calling up his granny

Did you hear about the butchers boy
so good with his hands
Cooked his sister a gourmet meal
fresh meat in the frying pan

Sweet and tender it falls off the bone
quite an exquisite flavor
Taste like chicken a family recipe
it lingers long enough to savor

Did you hear about the bucthers boy
He bought a greasy spoon
Business is killing
and it's not even noon

He is making his way
through the family tree
But once the blood ties run dry
he'll start on you and me

THE BUTTERFLY COLLECTOR

The butterfly collector
a net clutched in his hand
Is poised and quite determined
to catch all he can

He wants to capture beauty
the colors and intrigue
To walk beyond endurance
impervious to fatigue

When speciments of wonder
enthrall his keen eyed view
Emerge the seasoned hunter
to quietly persue

The wonderous butterfly
so carefree and naive
Unawere of what awaits
the tricks that fate will weave

Something sweet mysterious
flutters past the pine
He's come upon a forest
lucious and devine

Hurriedly he follows
dogged on the trail
Chasing down the glory
a new speciment entail

Day slips into dusk
nipping at the night
Yet he keeps the prize
clearly in his sight

A carnival of treasures
a bounty for the bold
Summon the spirit enduring
persistance reaping gold

Errant leaves sulk in silence
abandoned by the wind
Castaways of courage
crumbling from within

In vibrant splendor
it rests upon a glade
Wings flapping softly
to enticingly persuade

The butterfly collector
circles his prey
With a rush of excitement
when the game is in play

Closer and closer
so light on his toes
Adrenalines nectar
paints sweat on his brow

With imperceptible motion
he lowers his net
Unsuspecting he remains
that a trap has been set

Now beauty resides in
a prison made of glass
Lonely looking out
at the green, green grass

At first a humble trickle
At first only a few
Then the savage skies erupt
winged assassins pour into view

They all descend upon him
a foul and vengeful storm
They gag, choke and control him
a puppet to the swarm

Blind he's rendered helpless
breath close like a noose
It's too late to surrender
It's too late for a truce

His feet no longer touching
the ground once safe and sound
He soars above the treetops
too frightened to look down

As the sunset burns behind him
through the vacant night they fly
Past the mangled moon
with haste across the sky

Curious is the fascination
with life's ebb and flow
How, where, when, why
do we really want to know

A church is cast in shadows
built with blessed stone
It leans against tomorrow
those who come never feel alone

The butterfly solution
Don't turn the other cheek
Do unto others
vengeance is what they seek

The butterfly collector
tumbles from the sky
There's no devine intervention
when it's your time to die

They found him in the morning
the spire trough his head
Pinned as if by a needle
in the display case of the dead

WE MET BRIEFLY ON THE ASTRAL PLANE

This is what happens when you meet someone and you both are dead. Trust me that really complicates matters. Dating is obviously not easy when none of you need to eat. When one is granted a new life, and the other not, man what are one to do. I am sure many has wondered about that and wonder no more for here is the answer.

We met briefly on the astral plane
under combustible clouds and sorrowful rain
Her eyes were blue with a hint of green
her soul were held in high esteem
She was going up I was going down
Oh how I'd love to stick around
Just yesterday I had it all
living large yes living tall
When fate came crashing through my door
a 57 Buick knocked me to the floor
My head lodged in the shattered grille
for all I know it's in there still
So here I am awaiting trial
where indiscretions are kept on file
Records read and scrutinized
They even tabulate your every lie
It's too late to feign regrets
They'll deem you guilty if you sweat
The judge and jury faces grim
I dear say my chances dim
They have reviewed the lives I've led
and determined I should stay dead
There's no redemtion in my heart
me and life should stay apart
Where I am I should remain
forever wait on the astral plane,
but hang on I have a plan
I am in love you understand
The girl I met under troubled skies
just reborn I hear her cries
How sweetly she calls to me
Where she is I need to be
Seeds of subterfuge takes hold
find a child merge my soul
Must be clever not be seen
They'll stop me cold crush my dream
A birth in progress I'll catch a ride
I just brush this soul aside
Take his place and live again
Through the tunnel around the bend
A skip and a jump I'm back in the world
Oh dear me I've been born a girl
Seems in my rush I neglected to see
that my Bobby Brown was Linda Lee
Now I'm off to search and hope like hell
that my chosen bride likes girls as well

GOING OUT OF BUSINESS

What if the planet we live on was sold and someone else tried to run it, would it make a difference ? Here's the answer. I tried to write this as straight forward as possible. Not much in the way of flowery poetry here. I've tried to juxtapose serious issues with irreverence. ( at least I hope that's what I accomplished ) You will notice a shift in style halfway through this poem, not sure how that happened, but I do that sometimes.

I bought the planet earth today
it was going pretty cheap
Broken down and boarded up
ready for the scrap heap
I bought it from a dude named Bob
He had a long white beard
Shook my hand and wished me luck
as he brushed away a tear

He said:
" I thought it was a grand idea
the project I began
It seems that I forgot about
the independency of man
I gave them all a place to roam
a will to call their own
Now the world has been infected
with evil overgrown "

" No one believes in miracles
they've turned their back on me
So I depart, abandon hope
There's nothing left to see "
Then Bob takes pen to paper
and signs the sacred deed
" Now it is your problem son
you deal with their wanton needs "

He stands there for a moment
looks me in the eyes
" One last thing I have to say
Goodbye sweet earth, goodbye

He hops a cloud and blows away
across the skies as bright as day
I send my crew down to inspect
to measure mankinds interlect
Can I save their tarnished souls,
thaw the hearts long since cold
Can redemption still be found
buried under hallowed ground ?

But when I read those grim reports
I know to what I must resort
Since people feast on strife and war
I'll give them what they most adore
Armageddon beyond compare
annihilation everywhere
Set their spirits free at last
Demolition, what a blast

Everything will revert
to when everything was dust and dirt
Don't blame me, it's not my call
The path you chose caused your fall
Now silence sleeps on this earth
We begin anew, a new rebirth
I have great plans I start from scratch
With a man and a woman a perfect match

I won't interfere, hush be still
It's going to work this time I know it will
I gave them a paradise a great view of the sea,
but what is that snake doing in the apple tree ?