Blinded America

Watch the jingling keys 

As the politicians strip away your liberties 

The governmental lions never lose sleep

Over the opinions of the lowly sheep
Sheep! Is what Americans are

They are so weak they cannot open a jar

The bloodsucking one percent 

Forces you to believe you love your shoddy apartment 
Buy useless products with money you don’t have

Because some suit has a wonderful gift of gab

You have been led to believe you are happy

While you march in to be slaughtered so blindly 
I would inspire you to take up arms

But the media has led you to be scared of being harmed

You have allowed The Man to take away your weapons

You are the wealthy’s pawn
You are engaged in a war

But you do not fight the beast shutting the door

You are idiotically fighting your brethren

And going to church to wash away your sin
So wake up oppressed workers

Remove your colorful blinders 

Be informed of the ones running your life

Because they may be ones orchestrating your biggest strife 

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Hog With a Watch

Porkchop was your stereotypical boar 

He loved to eat until he could eat no more 

He ate all kinds of things his favorite being slop

He even ate a frozen can of pop
He had one ginormous predicament 

He never knew when the dinner would be sent

Sometimes it came and he was not ready 

He did not like to eat when he was all sweaty 
Porkchop put his mind to work

He would solve this problem or go berserk 

He consulted the wisest pig in the land

He knew Hamhock would lend a helping hand
Hamhock listened to the problem and pondered 

He sat for what seemed like hours without being bothered

Then he exclaimed with great glee

“I have the answer because no one is smarter than me
You need a watch! You know the thing that goes tick tock”

Porkchop was excited but didn’t know where to get a clock

Porkchop left with one answer but had more questions  

And he knew his next destination 
His brother Tenderloin had spoke of such a thing

It was so glorious Tenderloin began to sing

But Porkchop interrupted and shouted “where?!”

Tenderloin annoyed answered “the farmer keeps one in his arm hair”
Porkchop devised the plan that would be the envy of any hog

He would wait for the next thick fog

He wouldn’t have to wait but a week

 a fog set in so thick you couldn’t see your own butt cheek
Porkchop tripped the farmer and took his prize 

He got it back to his pen and brought it to his eyes 

It was a beautiful piece of machinery 

But Porkchop was having some difficulty 
He had the watch but did not understand its use 

He tried many things but it left him unamused 

Tomorrow Porkchop decided he would show Hamhock

His magnificent clock
Porkchop then retreated to his bed 

With dreams of watches in his head

When he could read the watch good

He would know when he would get food 

No matter how much you change you still have to pay the price for the things you’ve done. 

It’s the year 1875 in the western part of Missouri
Sam farms the land with his wife and children and is extremely happy

He is glad the war is over and his service is done

He now cherishes every minute he can spend with his son 
BOOM! A rifle cracks the silence of the middle of the night 

There is a group of men looking for a fight

Sam’s barn is on fire, his livestock has been slain 

His son screams out in blood curdling pain
Sam screams out in anger and rushes out to save his child

He runs as fast as wolf in the wild 

He sees the men and he runs faster, he must save the day

The world goes black and Sam is awoken tied up laying in the hay
Tears stream down his face, anger swells his vocal cords

He chokes out these few words

“Why lord why!” He then sees the leader grinning 

Holding Sam’s son as he is slowly dying
The leader speaks “I am here to collect on the sins of your past

You know these good times could not last

You may have changed but you cannot erase your evil deeds

You are worse than the excrement of a farmers steeds.”
The leader pulls out a Union army saber and buries the point into Sam’s shoulder

He twists the saber and every time Sam shouts in pain he burst out in laughter

Sam asks, “what crimes do you condemn me for?”

The leader says, “I use this saber to settle an old score.”
Sam passes out from the immense pain

He drifts back into a suppressed memory locked in his brain

The year is 1861 and Sam is on a plantation in Georgia

He just witnessed a union soldier and his slave murder his momma
That day was the first day of Sam the butcher 

He pulled a butcher’s knife from the kitchen and plunges it into the throat of the slave and the soldier 

For the next four years Sam slaughters every black person he sees

He doesn’t kill the soldiers he just chops of their legs right below their knees 
He tells himself he does it for the confederacy 

Fighting for a flag gives his killing some legitimacy 

He kills so many that he has lost count, he kills all including women and children

He always makes sure he kills them first then he kills the watching men
When the war stops he has to stop, he has no more protection 

He has to leave the south because he has such a terrible reputation 

He uses the money he has stolen from all the soldiers to buy his farm

He woos his wife with his unnatural charm
 A sharp pain rushes through Sam’s leg as his leg is separated from his knee

He is back from the comfort of his suppressed memory 

Sam asks if he has killed the leader’s family 

The leader doesn’t answer he just chops off Sam’s other knee
The pain is immense and Sam begs for his own death 

He begs to the leader to make these his last breaths 

The leader just spits on Sam and mounts his horse

The group of men ride away to let Sam’s death take a natural course
Sam lays on the hay crying and bleeding when he hears a sweet sound

It is the voice of his mother, she kneels beside him on the ground

She whispers to Sam, “violence does not solve violence

You needed not kill for me, so consider your pain today as penitence.”
This was the last thought Sam had on this planet

He went out the way he sent so many out of it 

So take this tale as a cautionary notice

Not all crimes are handled by the police

Dream a Dreamer’s Dream

I dream a dream to rival Seuss’s imagination
I dream a dream to live in a fictional nation 

To fight evil enemies with fierce weapons 

From the depths of hell to the halls of the heavens 
I want to fly with Peter Pan, crow with the lost boys

I need to go on adventures with buzz, woody and the rest of the toys

I aspire to fence with the three musketeers 

I fancy to fight bulls to the crowd’s cheers 
I aspire To go over the misty mountain with a group of travelers 

I desire to battle evil wizards alongside the potters 

I yearn for a race in chariots at camp half blood

I thirst to travel with Sherlock and find clues in the mud 
I may never physically do these things with my two hands

This is a harsh reality that I have come to understand

However in my dreams I can do anything 

I can be a werewolf, a demon slayer or even a king
The trick to life is never stop dreaming

Never give up on the things that leave you smiling 

Your imagination is your greatest friend 

And it will stay with you until the very end

Inside the Mind

Am I really friends with the monster inside of my headOr have I just developed Stockholm syndrome 

Am I really in control or am I the one strapped to the bed 

Has this hell really become my home 
Maybe I am the evil twin with the pencil thin mustache 

Maybe I took over this mind I inhabit 

Stand back while I hack and slash 

Through these tangled thoughts with a sword as dull as an oven mitt 
Given enough time the psycho will gnaw through his straight jacket 

And how lovely your face will be when he’s free

We both know his first victim will be his personal nurse ratchet 

But which person in this hypothetical is me? 
I say lock both personalities in a cage 

Toss in a pistol, locked, loaded, and ready to fire

See who benefits the most from their rage

There can only be one king of the mental shire

And frodo is gone 

 

The Road Not Traveled

Two roads diverged in a mythical wood
And sadness overtook me 

I could not travel both no matter how much I wish I could 

I looked down one path to where it bent into the city 
I stood frozen in my tracks

One path begged for me to traverse it’s high grass 

The other shined with neon and glitz that illuminated the concretes cracks 

It was filled with wonderments protected by glass 
I sat and thought, inspecting both paths the best I could from afar

One path shined with excitement 

And the other had never been touched by a car 

This only added to my predicament 
I shall be telling this with saddened heart 

Two roads diverged in a wood and I leaned on a fence

I made no decision and remained at the start

And that has made all the difference 

The Storm Cowboy

 Mother Nature is a cruel heartless bitch

She doesn’t discriminate against black, white, poor or rich 

She will demolish your house car your way of life 

She will even kill the unborn child carried by your wife 
That’s where we begin our story 

In the small town of Ausberry 

A violent angry tornado touched down 

It ravished through the center of town 

It ripped through the home of the Betty and Mitch ford

It destroyed every shingle, every board 
It picked up a pregnant Betty and held her for a long painful ten minutes

Mitch watched in horror as it carried her for miles and finally dropped her in the yard of the Pickets 

He rushed to her side be she was no longer with the living

Mitch cursed the heavens and laid beside her sobbing 
Mitch was a mechanical engineer and vowed to get revenge for death of his family

He knew this could be no random act of a deity

It had to be purposeful it had to be for a reason

Mitch would not rest until there was no longer a tornado season 
Mitch began studying tornados and their patterns

Chasing them across country, living off the land as they do in westerns. 

Mitch traveled on an old red Harley Davidson his wife had bought him 

And a bag he had appropriated from his local gym 
Mitch followed these tornadoes trying different techniques to vanquish his arch rival 

He didn’t know why but he felt there weren’t multiple tornadoes, there was just one that was evil 

Mitch tried, unsuccessfully, to thwart the tornado with a sword, axe, and mace

But each time he ended up bruised and landing on his face
Mitch determined his body movement wasnt fast enough

He would need more powerful stuff 

He tried the conventional weapons the second amendment permits

Mitch decided he needed a way to fire rockets 
He spent the next following months collecting parts and supplies for his weapon

Mitch obtained gun powder from Austin, metal from Birmingham, and propellant from Boston 

He finally had assembled a gun that would fire rockets and was manageable by a single man

And it would not be long before Mitch would be able to test his hell in a can
Mitch stood in a field with his hell in hand with the tornado barreling down

Mitch fired two shots at the base of the tornado with no affect, Mitch was picked up an hurled into the nearest town

Mitch was frustrated but would not admit defeat

That had to be a way for this tornado to be beat
And as he lay in a pile of rubble gazing at his adversary 

He saw a glimpse of something eerily extraordinary 

at the top of the tornado was what appeared to be an angel flapping his wings

And if you listened there was a ominous song he sings
He sung ring around the rosy

Well this song filled Mitch with great fury 

Mitch developed a plan to meet this angel at the top

And end make his life of destruction stop
With hell in his Mitch revved his Harley and gunned it towards the tornado

Mitch drove directly into the storm like a pyscho 

But miraculously Mitch was rotating upwards in the funnel cloud

He was grinning as the storm pelted and pummeled 
Once he reached the top he shouted at the angel 

“Remember me?” And pulled out hell

He blasted the Angels left wing and then the right

The tornado stopped and there was a still in the night 
The only thing moving was Mitch and the angel free falling

The angel was screaming whilst Mitch was just smiling 

They both hit the ground with an earthshaking thud

The angel groaned as he lay in a puddle of blood 
The angel asked, almost to himself, “why, why had this happened”

Mitch rolled to his side and said, “I was going to ask the same thing”

And before they could say another word the Harley fell and crushed them both