Culled From My Facebook Page

Andruids- adherents of an ancient robotic religion whose main tenets include belief in the backward-compatiblity of souls and that Linux is the OS of heaven.
There is a new horror movie out, It Depends, about a clown that lives in the sewers and terrorizes the elderly.
BatMania- an overwhelming urge to put on a mask and fight crime
They finally arrested that sarcastic fisherman, but not before he hurt a lot of people with his vicious barbs.

Fashion shows are sorta like junior high science fairs, everyone pretends to ‘get’ it, and nothing useful is ever seen at either event.

They say it’s turtles, all the way down. What worries me however, is the thought that we may not be astride the top turtle.

A REAL LIVE CHURL
I’ll soon pardon me, libs, 
but first on my list
Is Sheriff Arpaio
He hates scum of the Earthers
And, like me, he’s a birther
So, no jail for Joe
Pardon me, my family, and attorneys
All my closest associates
Maybe even my pets
The judges decision was really bad
Sheriff Arpaio is no ordinary cad
He’s like my dear old Dad
The sheriff was only the first,
And there will be far worse

Than Joe Arpaio

Why is the heart considered the seat of our emotions, the organ that symbolizes spiritual love? It’s a pump! It’s essential to life, yeah, but it just sits there and goes ba-dump. Hearing a gal’s heartbeat sans stethoscope isn’t what the fellas brag about over brewskis, if a guy has his ear pressed to a woman’s chest, things other than her heart rate are his current focus.

 

Why wait until you’re so angry that bile is backing up in your throat, and your BP could power a pressure washer, to vent your spleen? Shouldn’t we crack the valve a couple of times a day? If nothing else, it would take some of the load off the little fella.

 

Do half-assed people have semi- colons?

 

What is it about abject fear that turns a coward’s liver into lilies?

 

Do blue bloods have their own blood banks?

 

The answers to these and many other questions can be found in the appendix.

Advertisements

A Poem About a Good Wall

GROUND ZERO HAS MANY NAMES

From Bristol and from Brittany,
From Thailand and Japan
Azerbaijan and Albany, Canada and Sudan
From ninety lands the families come
To a place that’s not the same
They’re coming to New York City
To find their loved one’s name

Some only have to walk,
or maybe ride a train
Others touch their crosses before they’ll board the plane
Some visit Ground Zero alone, some travel with a friend
They come to New York City
So they can touch the name

The names will always be there, although the vistors will change
For many the name that’s listed there is the sum of their remains

Heads bowed before the wall, a grieving family stands
Aware of passers’ wary glances.
For they come from a Muslim land
Mother reaches out her hand, touches Father’s name
He died responding, per his calling,
Some will never understand

Sad lady finds her husband
Chiseled into stone
Traces ‘Benjamin’ with her finger
And asks him to come home

Dad tries hard to find the words
when his daughter asks him why
On the day that death rained from the sky
Mommy forgot to say goodbye 

Everyone looks so different, but their stories end the same
All they have are memories now, on a wall of many names

UNITED, WE’RE BUMPED

The CEO’s Letter

I bought me a ticket on an aeroplane,
Did the TSA hustle, found my seat, and then
The cops they came and grabbed me,
gave my seat to an employee!
And the CEO, he sent me a letter.

When I think about how much money I spent
Just to get away for one lousy weekend
You’re damn right, I’m whining!
I should be zip-lining
Instead of reading the CEO’s letter

Yes, he wrote me a letter that I couldn’t read because the print was too small.
But I heard him say on the news last night that I was the cause of it all.

Screw me!

I should be on my way to Paradise
sipping a mai-tai in the friendly skies
But twice they sold my seat, so airport food I eat
While I write my lawyer a letter

ALL MOUNTAIN LAUREL PICS, BIG AND SMALL

The Mountain Laurel flower is beautiful from the time it buds until it blooms
IMG_20170317_154556IMG_20170317_151055IMG_20170317_150139238IMG_20170317_145804IMG_20170317_145830IMG_20170317_145232IMG_20170317_150404IMG_20170317_142736393IMG_20170317_143232087IMG_20170317_142638643IMG_20170317_142540853

Through a Lens, Tiny

IMG_20170312_104657

Lantana

Mychotomies

if it takes one to know one, and i had to be there,

then what is the point, and why should i care?

if time waits for no one, then i don’t understand,

am i wasting the time that i have on my hands?

and i hear that love is forever, yet life is much shorter

so to spend my time loving makes sense to me, sorta

WHAT IF ALLAH IS ONE OF US?

I wrote this when ISIS was on the run from one  city or the other, now I dedicate it to the fallen and falling murdering scum currently getting their comeuppance in Mosul…

You’re gonna Meet Allah, and all his virgins
and its gonna happen real soon since
you decided to be part of the problem
and innocent victims to death condemn

yeah, yeah Allah is good
And He hates you murdering hoods
yeah, yeah, as you will soon see

It wasn’t God blew up that bus
Took our Daddy away from us
No one this blood thirsty must
be allowed to live, no mercy to give

Too late to run back home
no matter where you roam
you will find a sniper or drone
Has a spot on you, goodbye to you…