Religions and holy books are a lot like the training wheels on bicycles.  They're great to get you started but, sooner or later, you need to grow up, toss the training wheels and become responsible for the path your bicycle is on.

     It's a good thing we have the words "them" and "us" in our vocabulary, or we'd have to invent an artificial means of separating our-selves from others. 

     Never mind.  We already invented religions and they'll keep us separated - even into eternity.

     Once I compared a politician to a vulture.

     The vulture was angry.

     "After all, " he told me, "I'll never lie to your face and try to convince you that I'm stripping your carcass for your own good."

     I apologised to the vulture.

A comment on "The Inverted Pyramid"

     A bit of social observation and/or poetry should be strong enough to stand on it's own when you hear it, but I prefer to present it to a reader rather than a listener.  In this way, I can influence them with how it looks, as well as how it sounds.  The visual form also defines and enhances the rhythm that the writer sees for that piece.  With this poem, the physical appearance emphasizes the inherent instability of an inverted pyramid in the social model.   

The Inverted Pyramid

Lawyers ignore the truth while argueing for those who pay them

Politicians argue for whomever pays them the most

While appearing to work for us

Who argues for the truth

Who argues for us

Who argues

Who

comment on "time and distance"

     Despite the apparent simplicity of this poem, it was a challenge.  With the first verse in hand, and not a clue where it was going, the decision was made to keep the verses at three lines and the last word of each verse had to rhyme with the last word of the prior verse.  Second, the poem had to reach a recognizable conclusion.  And third, once a verse was left behind for the next verse, it could never be changed! 

Time and Distance

. . . so I sez

now look here Blind Billy

and why don't you see

we only travel

through time

from sneaker to knee

we pay for the time

but the distance

is free

when the distance

is done

we enter our plea

to beg

a new chance

from the Last Referee

to repent

and reform

we promise with glee

but He knows

of our record

does the Last Referee

and He knows

of our need

to disagree

so He gives us new life

a new chance to do right

another yank at the cosmic goatee



A comment on "At Home With The Homeless"

     This piece was written while I was (belatedly) going to college.  The sub-title was added because some of my classmates thought that it may have been exaggerated a little.  It wasn't.  The people who lived there had nowhere else to go, except for the streets.  I lived there because I got a break on the rent for cleaning up every morning and for policing the residents at night.  My decision to leave was made one morning when I realized that confrontation and violence had become a way of life, i.e. I was at home with the homeless.

AT HOME WITH THE HOMELESS

(A Gentle View)

     Welcome to the Orford Hotel.  We know your biggest fear; that when you get evicted, you're gonna end up here.

     Welcome to the Orford Hotel.  The last stop for the helpless and homeless, the weak and the weary.  Leave your dignity at the door, there's no need anymore.

     Welcome to the Orford Hotel, where the hallways smell like bare feet and beer farts, strong enough to make an onion weep. 

     Welcome to the Orford Hotel, where the dead and the dying are buried without a prayer.  Where pastime becomes passion and emotional brutality the fashion.  Where residents are hesitant to care any more or drink any less.

     Welcome to the Orford Hotel, where we stay in shape by running in place and running out of time.  Where we amuse ourselves by abusing ourselves and living in our dreams.  But the dreams are dying, and the nightmares are coming and common, and still we sleep.

     Welcome to the Orford Hotel. . .