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



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

Through a Lens, Tiny




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


I wrote this when ISIS was on the run from one ┬ácity 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…



Can I lend you a hand?
It’s not really mine, it’s the hand of a man
Who once said to me, “Yes, son, you can!”
And when I wouldn’t listen, he’d say it again

Or this man’s hand,
That kept this country safe for free men
The hand of a man whose greatest reward
Is that I fight with a pen instead of a sword.

Lend me an ear
The cost isn’t dear, and it pays to hear
What those here before us might know,
Mistakes not to make, bad places to go.

No man walks the earth alone,
there are no nations of one
The path you find yourself upon
was beaten down by someone.

Take lessons from their footsteps,
hear what they have to say
Use old folk’s words like road maps
For their past is a path to today

–Greg Cobb



It’s twenty minutes to midnight,
Mother, be sure to lock the door
Keep the children from the windows,
Though they’ve seen it all before
The demon tide is rising fast,
And flooding the land once more

It rolls with quiet, ominous force
So slow it’s hard to trace its course
It leaves its mark from coast to coast.
How many victories does it now boast?
How many of us know nobody close
who’s suffered? A handful, at most

Shapeless shifting fills the gaps
Where grows the foreign menace
It leaves its mark in blackest dark
When senses are not at their best
It feeds on fear in all its forms,
This tide of dreadful strangeness.

Will we ever see this neap-high tide of evil end?
This demon tide that makes enemies of our friends?
The tides are coming quicker, no time between to mend
What will keep the demon tide from drowning us again?

No demon tide shall drown this land
Nor wave of strangeness bring an end
to what we fought for way back when
Against the onslaught we will stand
Make this land safe, and free again
We must stem this tide, anyway we can