Recent Thoughts

We Shall Overcome Some Day

Deep in my heart, I do believe

We shall overcome some day

Guy Carawan 1960

O the ruling élite are strong

With power that seems insurmountable

They thrive on what is wrong

Pretending to be accountable

Corporate bankers and lawyers

Profit from organised strife

They are simply sawyers

Who cut up the timber of life

Then the media work their spin

Flaunting erroneous truth

Making dissent a sin

And from honour standing aloof

Yet the empire of gain is ending

With victims now fighting back

Now we poor folk are contending

Human virtue is on the right track

Deep in my heart, I do believe

We shall overcome some day

The goddess of law will achieve

What the history books clearly say

So speak up champions of virtue

Let your voices ring out loud and clear

The neocons now cannot touch you

You are angels who fly without fear

Those false towers soon will crumble

The liars will all fade away

Propagandists exposed will but mumble

As the pillars of greed decay

Danger Is A Stranger

Danger is a stranger when people do what is right

But enemies come in handy when neolibs choose to fight

War is but a consequence of profit at fever pitch

Lots of weapons needed to make their makers rich

But first you must have an enemy so invent some evil deeds

Praise the worth of conflict as what your country needs

Warfare is an industry beloved from pole to pole

American exceptionalism plays a leading role

Media barons stir the pot with unworthy causes

Telling lies with every breath as well as in the pauses

If young men die think only this of them

They are remembrance flowers cut off at the stem

And what of little children blasted to kingdom come?

Or burials of old folks to the sound of a martial drum?

Not to worry says the Press to a fake ovation

Spreading the word that’s quite absurd it’s the glory of our nation

So the conflicts continue with each carefully chosen foe

Death can take no holiday with war mongers on the go

Tainting the earth with their loud belligerent feet

With never a moment’s thought about defeat

Yet surprise can take effect at last

Leaving the hawks surprisingly aghast

For there’s an event to end the vile tirade:

It’s a sudden recognition of international trade!

Why O why should you slaughter that babe in the woods

When he alive with his family is a market for your goods

Let the songs of war give way to friendly rendition

That bans the guns in favour of free competition

Peace brothers it’s so wonderful you may say

As the reasons for war conveniently fade away

There is a logic in the dealings of foreign affairs

If weapons are replaced by peaceful wares

The Last Rose Of Another Summer

My mother planted that rose garden

It bloomed in another summer

She’s gone now

And the bed is filled with weeds

And other intrusive plants

Making their bid for dominance over intended beauty

It’s like a jungle of impertinence now

That garden

Unruly and seemingly proud of its chaos

Of its unfettered fertility

A plot once beautiful

But now transfigured by unintended growth

Yet one rose plant is still there

Proudly surviving the competition around it

And blooming

Yes still blooming

Undaunted by the power of the irrelevance nearby

Just one

The last rose of another summer

I picked it yesterday

For I knew she would be pleased

To have its perfume defy the untidiness of my house

It’s there now

Amidst the clutter

And I can smell its perfume

It helps me remember a spirit

That made me what I am

And somehow

Has me resolve to tidy that garden

As a gesture to a love that does not die

In spite of everything

One Kind Thought

I’m taking pills for depression

A last resort

They do their best

Despite the overwhelming task

Of keeping me on the straight and narrow

But somehow they just don’t go far enough

Sometimes

I am enveloped in the Slough of Despond

And I desperately try to move beyond

The despair of my own pathetic inability

To solve my problems

I search for other solutions and keep falling short

Until as a last resort

I write a poem about my sadness

That’s when the trouble starts

Approaching madness

As words have a habit of running away

With your equanimity

It’s all a matter of meaning

How to say what you really intend to say

No nonsense

No half truths that will lead you and others astray

Truth is such a rare part of modern life

And somehow despite my writing struggles

Plus all my thinking

I still find my spirits sinking

Sinking sinking sinking

Until something mind changing happens

I decide to tell Joan that I love her

And her smile

Miraculously completes the task of my pills

Last Train To Toronto

I caught the last train to Toronto several years ago

Discontinued service

The railway tracks are still there

Overgrown with weeds

A branch or two from dead trees lying across them

I don’t visit old uncle Snow any more

He’s even older than I am

Which makes him pretty ancient

He’s in a wheel chair too

So he doesn’t get out

I miss those talks about old times we had

Not possible any more

I have no car and I can’t walk ten miles 

With my withered leg

There were never many people on those trains

I think that’s why they stopped the service

The greatest good for the greatest number

Seems to be the way things work

In the political world these days

Wipes us odd individuals out

Pathetic minorities like Uncle Snow and me

Don’t carry much weight anymore 

So there you have it

A lonely life for the old fellow

And for me

I write him a letter every few weeks or so

And send him a Christmas card

That’s the way it is

Days pass

A television set for company

A radio in the morning at breakfast

And so the days go by without the trains

Charlatan Unnamed

Fiend

Monster

Distorter of reality

Cunning snake in Eden’s grass

Schemer dedicated to nothing but political gain

Champion of malevolence

Alter ego of murderers

Self appointed defender of evil deeds

Disguised as virtue

Architect of a house of lies

Cohabited by greedy obedient fawning fools

Passionate lover of yourself

Courting cronies

To support your infinity of deadly deeds

Insane darling of the inane

Voice of ineptitude

Mindless leader posing as bright

Last hope of villains

Who gather around you as agents of your intrigue

You blandly court them with your own fringe morality

As you loudly proclaim false triumph

Within your insidious framework of self interest

You are

A cunning fox amidst a tragedy of crows

Dark angels they are, wooed ingenuously by your false prophesy

You are their patron of political pretence

How loudly you praise your own fake manoeuvring

Like a seller of wares in a tainted marketplace

Who’ll  buy

Your pie in the sky?

There is no end to your fallacious schemes

Your voice is loud proclaiming a false integrity

Yet, distorted into confusion like static electricity in a storm

It fails to communicate to the wise

You are such a well-known star with illicit fame

I find no reason here to write your name

royciebaby

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