Poetry: Extended "Butterflies and Moths"

Poetry: Extended version of "Butterflies and Moths" or "Double Standards"

              I could never harm a butterfly/ But I could kill a moth

              Butterflies are graceful./ Moths eat your cloth.

              Butterflies are nice and bright./Moths burn up when drawn to light.

              On your sweaters moths do bite./ In your home do not invite.

               If moths were human I'd indict./ Through open window they'll take flight.

               But they'll sneak in when it is light.

                   I could kick some pigeons but I'd never harm a dove

                   Pigeons are squalid./ Doves signify love.

                   Pigeons are filthy when handled with gloves

                   Some say doves are from Up Above

                   Pigeons live life like a slob

                    But taste quite good when served as squab.

              I would never harm a bee

              But I could kill a wasp

              Bees pollinate flowers

              Wasps can sting you non-stop...(tbc?)

         

      

Poetry: "The Problem with Pesticides"

Poetry: "The Problem with Pesticides" [a work in progress]

             Pesticides will destroy the bugs but harm ye later on

             It will also kill the fish if gotten in a pond.

             Herbicides will kill the weeds and leach into the water

              Then one day the toxic waste will get into your daughter

              Toxic waste will cause great havoc in air, ground or sea

              The ones who often pay the price are often you and me

               Dioxin from the paper mills gets into the rivers

               Soon thereafter one day it gets into our livers... (tbc?)

Poetry: "L. Tryptophan"

 Poetry: "L.Tryptophan" [a work in progress]

           I'm not a huge fan of L. Tryptophan

           Asleep on the couch

           After meals in my house

           From turkey in the oven or a pan

           From a farm, in a van

           I'm feelin' so groggy

           My mind is still foggy... (tbc?)

Poetry: "Girls, Guns and Gadgets"

Poetry: "Girls, Guns and Gadgets" [a work in progress]

                 Girls, Guns and Gadgets

                 Such movies are fun

                 Like James Bond from across the pond

                 And his girls from around the world

                 Femmes fatales up against a wall

                 Not only guys enjoy the world of spies

                 Though the C.I.A. it always lies

                  And innocents they always die

                  When espionage comes about

                   Terrorism increases without a doubt... (tbc?)

Poetry: "A Writer's Alchemy"

Poetry:  "A Writer's Alchemy" [a work in progress]

                To turn graphite to diamond

                Or ink into gold

                'Tis every author's goal

                [To be] On bestseller listings before I'm too old

                 Turn paper to dollars

                 A fatter billfold

                 But editors can be so cold

                  Sell more books or go on the dole... (tbc?)

         

              

Expose' of Patient Mistreatment at Pembroke Hospital

Expose' of Patient Mistreatment at Pembroke Hospital

       Pembroke Hospital is a private psychiatric hospital in Pembroke, Massachusetts. A year or so ago the Patriot Ledger newspaper featured an article about alleged patient mistreatment by staff occurring between 2006-2007. I'm reluctant to admit it, but in late June of 2005 my boss sent me there by ambulance because in her judgment I was acting erratically and she assumed she was "helping me" or doing me a big favor by sending me to this horrible psychiatric hospital. Against my better judgment I signed myself in.

        In case you have never been in the setting of a psychiatric facility, being in such a place is a topsy-turvy microcosm of the world. If you express anger or frustration (a natural reaction to being locked up) you are considered  "psychotic" or worse and are subject to powerful psychotropic medicine or "meds" or even violent abuse from hospital-employed thugs (attendants or orderlies, etc.). What is considered  "normal behavior"  in a psych. ward would not be considered normal in the outside world and vice versa. Also, if you are nervous or aloof and don't try to socialize or interact with other patients you are also labeled and subject to unwanted and unneeded meds.

       I once heard a harmless female patient screaming loudly nearby. She was ganged up by hospital associates for refusing her meds. or for disrespecting the staff. I was tempted to come to her aid, but I wisely kept out of it.

       Once I was ganged up on by employees, man-handled and brought to the seclusion room to be forcibly medicated for something very minor. I was neither a  "danger to myself or others", so as far as I'm concerned they illegally medicated me. For that incident some of my blood ended up on the wall and pillow in the seclusion room. A worker took a picture of the blood even though he had a conflict of interest. However, I have no idea if the picture was shown to the so-called "human-rights officer" who herself had a conflict of interest and a bias toward the hospital employees who abused patients on a routine basis.

       At least once I was body-slammed to the hard floor by a group of hospital employees. They and I were lucky that I didn't break a rib or another bone or end up with a long-term injury.

       In the morning and evening there was a mandatory assembly for patients to discuss their progress. The head psychiatrist or attendant ran those groups with an iron fist. Such groups were really kangaroo courts with little or no tolerance for dissent. If you said or did something they didn't like they'd send you to your room, up your meds or sic the violent, abusive attendants on you (sometimes all three).

        In my view, medications were coercively prescribed not to "help" patients improve or recover, but to make them compliant or  "under control" while there.  I didn't need to go through the ordeal I went through by being at the hospital for about a month. I was threatened with possible six-month commitment if I didn't agree to stay there until they wanted me to leave. That really would've screwed up my life.  Next time a busy-body wants to put me in the hospital I won't stand for it. If worse comes to worse I might agree to a med change, but I hope I never go through the hell of being in Pembroke Hospital or a similar facility again.

Poetry: "Only Fate Is Crueler Than The Human Heart"

Poetry: "Only Fate Is Crueler Than The Human Heart" [a work in progress]

                Only Fate is crueler than the human heart

                Unrequited feelings can rip your chest apart

                 Attraction can seem so a la carte

                 Precursor to a broken heart

                 It seems so difficult to start

                 To avoid a lousy tart... (tbc?)

Poetry: "18 Children" A work in progress

Poetry:  "18 Children" [A work in progress] Based on a real family I heard about

                 Eighteen children living in a shack

                 Their father's a drunk, their mother's on her back

                  None saw a dentist, so they all had plaque

                  Once teeth rot they never do come back

                  Their waste [was] thrown out a window, it landed in a stack

                  Eighteen children in the woods of Maine

                  Their mother's on her back, their father wields a cane

                   There's little more to eat than leftover grain

                   In the cold of winter they feel a lot of pain

                   The roof it always leaks whenever it does rain

                   Their overalls have an awful lot of stains

                   They may have even starved if rodents were not slain

                   Eighteen children living in the cold

                   Their mother's on her back, their father is a scold

                    Huddling together, for warmth they had to hold

                    Eighteen children sleeping on the floor

                    Their mother's on her back, their father often swore

                    Huddled altogether near a drafty door

                    Covered with a tattered coat 'cuz they were so damned poor

                     Their father was oblivious and he liked to snore

                     In the early morning the cold it made then sore

                     Eighteen children wading through the snow

                     Their mother's on her back, their father is their foe

                     How did they survive when they lacked a lot of dough?

                      They often did go hungry with little food to grow

                      Eighteen children lacking enough food

                      Their parents could use birth control,

                       But they had a giant brood.

                      Eighteen children in the frigid weather

                       They really could have froze to death,

                        But they were tough as leather... (tbc?)

         

     

    

                

                    

             

"A Vampire/Demon Scenario", Part 2 of 2

Experimental Fiction: "A Vampire/Demon Scenario", Part 2 of 2

       We'll establish a ruthless, diabolical dictatorship lorded over by the Living Dead, with the Prince of Darkness as our deity and Lord and saviour.

       Before the dawn, we'll retire to our respective coffins. We'll close our bloodshot, nefarious eyes, but we'll be completely aware and alert for any foolish mortal who would dare to harm or kill us Creatures of the Night. They can't even bother us with useless, worthless and ineffective crucifixes or holy water, try as they might.

       If they want to plunge a wooden stake through our black hearts, let them try! Van Helsing or a certain perky, adolescent Vampire Slayer had better watch their step(s) around us. Most of the time we only harvest the old, the weak and the sick, or the ne'er-do-wells, mobsters, drug addicts, rapists, murderers, terrorists, the arrogant and insolent miscreants, reprobates, and those who buy, sell, wear or advertise fur.

       By the way, our chests and torsos are almost as  strong as tempered steel and as hard as an oak tree. For all I care, they can try to plunge a t-bone steak into our chest cavity.

       Our children: the bats, mosquitos, scorpions,leeches, gnats, fleas, ticks, scorpions, wolves, werewolves, and man-made or natural monsters of the world, will stalk and lethally attack any and all who dare challenge us... THE END

[When I shared this story rudiment in a writer's group they claimed " it wasn't a real story" because "it didn't have a beginning, a middle and an end. While no Steven King, I'm proud to have written this story though it may need to be revised a little bit.]

 

"A Vampire/Demon Scenario", Part 1

Experimental Fiction: "A Vampire/Demon Scenario"  [Lately,in this weblog I have given short fiction short-shrift. Today, I will try to make up for that]

         Be my succubus. I'll be your incubus. At the stroke of midnight we'll bare our sharp, scarlet-tinged fangs. We'll scamper through the woods and feed on our crimson sustenance.

         First you, then me:  We'll expose our alabaster throats like submissive dogs and suck just enough liquid plasma [blood] until we are sated and giddy and intoxicated with a perverse and demonic delight. Then we'll levitate three feet off the ground and disappear into the night amid the pea-soup fog. We'll blend into our surroundings and see with phosphorescent and luminescent eyes.

           We'll commune with and command the creatures of the night and vermin to do our bidding. If we feel up to it we'll ride motorcycles forged in the pits of Hell. We'll become bats and our leathery wings will flap into the opaque sky in the dead of night.

           We'll use our echolocation [sonar] system to locate prey to feed on and we'll recruit some of our victims to become our slaves: to become unrelenting, unpaid mercenaries in the growing legions of the undead. As soon as we are able, we'll take over the entire earth and cosmos and harvest sweet, red, salty, tasty blood from our minions. [Part 1 of 2 ( to be cont'd)].

Poetry: "My Paycheck Stinks"

Poetry:  "My Paycheck Stinks"

                My paycheck stinks!

                 It might as well be in invisible ink.

                 It's gone in a blink.

                 Flushed down the toilet or lost in the sink.

                 Gone down the drain

                 By working there what have I to gain?

                  All I get is a poverty-stain...

Risque Poetry: "Prone and Supine"

Risque Poetry:  "Prone and Supine"

                   Prone and Supine took a nap

                   They wound up in each other's lap

                   Their parents didn't need a map

                   They didn't need to set a trap...

                  Prone and Supine went to a dance

                  Somewhere in the south of France

                  Perhaps they went into a trance

                  They wound up in each other's pants...

                  Prone and Supine had some fun

                  They stuck around 'til they were done

                  Prone was a priest and Supine a nun

                  From the Vatican they had to run...

Song Lyrics: "Pristine and Pretty"

Song Lyrics: "Pristine & Pretty"

                She was pristine and pretty

                She sure has changed

                'Til she moved to the city

                 She's scrounging for change

                 It sure is a pity

                 She used to be witty

                 Now she's acting so strange... (tbc?)

       

Subversive Poetry: "There Ain't No Heaven..."

A rather risque poem:  "A Rocket In My Pocket"

                            I have a rocket in my pocket

                            Ever searching for a socket

                            Searching for a little socket

                            With some kind of sprocket

                            With her picture in a locket...

                                   "Love's a Game..."

                            Love's a game with bullshit rules

                            And we all play 'cuz we're all fools

                            Searching for our innate tools

                            Scoping out the swimming pools

                            Pretending we are always cool

                            Showing that we are a tool...

Subversive Poetry: "There Ain't No Heaven..."

Subversive Poetry: "There Ain't No Heaven (and Hell is Here)

                          Life is tough so you gotta be rough

                          Hope a lawyer gets ye in the clear

                           There ain't no heaven and Hell is here!

                         Don't let the Devil call your bluff

                         Work real hard but have no career?

                         There ain't no heaven and Hell is here!

                        Don't let The Man give ye guff

                        Try to dwell without your fear

                        There ain't no heaven and Hell is here!

                        Sometimes take more than enough

                        Live and work while others jeer

                        There ain't no heaven and Hell is here!

                      Life is rough so you gotta be tough

                      Endure thyself another year

                      There ain't no heaven and Hell is here!

                      Don't let the Devil call your bluff

                      On New Year's ye pretend to cheer

                      There ain't no heaven and Hell is here!

         

                       Sometimes bear more than enough,

                      So have yourself another beer

                      There ain't no heaven and Hell is here! ... (tbc?)

Poetry: "The Enemy of My Enemy"

Poetry:  "The Enemy of My Enemy"

                 The enemy of my enemy is a friend

                 You never know who you'll defend

                 Break the rules or let them bend

                 Time to let the fences mend

                 Forgiveness is an ancient trend...

                   Untitled

               Cask and flagon

               Slew a dragon

               On the day [I] went off the wagon... (tbc?)

             

Poetry: "Another Mall"

Poetry: "Another Mall" [a work in progress]

              They built another mall

              But the forest had to fall

              In those trees were birds and bees

              Pollinators of the food we eat

              With nowhere else for bees to go

              Our produce will no longer grow

              Before all trees are gone bye-bye

              Don't let the useful creatures  die...

     

Poetry: "Through the Keyhole Voyeur", etc.

Poetry: "Through the Keyhole Voyeur" [a work in progress]

               There's no known cure

               For a through-the-keyhole voyeur

                So draw your shades and lock your door

               For Peeping Tom wants to see more.

                  There's no known cure

                  For a through-the-keyhole voyeur

                  So lock your door and draw your blinds

                  For the peeper never knows what he'll find...

               "4:20"

              At 4:20 we puff

              'Til we've had more than enough

              We do this every day

               Though illegal it stays

              And hope to keep the cops away...

                 

                

Poetry: "The Voyeuristic Mystic", etc.

Poetry:  "The Voyeuristic Mystic"

               I'm a mystic, voyeuristic

               Some would say I'm narcissistic

               I'm absolutely atheistic

               And hardly ever altruistic...

              "The Futility of Prayer"

              It's pointless to pray

              For God's far, far away

              Instead you can prey on believers today

              Who spend their day amid chemical spray,

              While children they play day after day

               In solar ray, with melanoma they'll pay

               As their elder folk lay near a cafeteria tray...

               An untitled work in progress:

             My mother's in the nursing home

             My father's in the grave

             My uncle's in the madhouse because he rants and raves

             My aunt is in the poorhouse for all the dough she gave

              My boss he likes to treat me like I was a slave...

Poetry: "Tic, Tic, Tic..."

Poetry:  "Tic, Tic, Tic..." [a work in progress]

         

                 Tic, tic, tic, time goes so quick

                 Dwelling on [it] could make you sick

                 Tic, tic, tic, time goes so fast

                 Pleasant times weren't meant to last

                 If you live you're doin' time

                 And being born's your only crime

                 Pay attention to the clock

                 As the reaper starts to knock

                 Become dependent as you age

                 On your lifespan Death may rage...

                 

                  

                 

Poetry: "Fungus Amongus"

Poetry: "Fungus Amongus"

  

             Fungus Amongus

             Mold on our bread

             Eat too much and you could be dead

             Or wake up sometime later with all kinds of dread

             And the ambulance-driver would pick you up from your bed...

Poetry: Reedited "T and A or TLC"

Poetry: Reedited "T & A or T.L.C."

               T & A or T.L.C., which one will it be for ye?

               As a rule guys choose T & A, every night and every day

               Girls choose love, or T.L.C., at least as far as I can see

               You might get both if you date a nurse

               But she will choose which one is first. 

Subversive Poetry: " Enron Crooks"

Subversive Poetry:   [may eventually be simul-posted on my political blog "Rage Against the [Bush] Regime" at http://www.the midnightrambler-theiconoclast.blogspot.com]

                    "Enron Crooks"

           Exploiting a loophole, they flouted the law.

           Deceiving the people, their character flaw.

           While we were distracted, they stole all our money.

           Not even comics would call this crime funny.

           Many corporate marauders get off scot-free,

           'Cuz CEO-crooks are more politically important than we.

                  

Subversive Poetry: "I Pledge Allegiance"

Poetry:  "I Pledge Allegiance ... to the U.S. Constitution"

          [Simul-posted on my other blog: "Rage Against the Regime" at http:www.themidnightrambler-theiconoclast.blogspot.com]

            I pledge allegiance to the U.S. Constitution, not the flag

           Under Bush, the Bill of Rights is burning like a rag

           If burning flags becomes a crime

           The First Amendment's not worth a dime

           Bush's pals can't take Dissent

            To Iraq or Afghanistan our sons are sent

            Let's put McCain's campaign to bed

            'Til Right-Wing thinking is buried and dead.

            "Failin' with Sarah Palin"

            With Sarah Palin McCain is Failin'

            His campaign ought to be bailin'

            Except for Voter Suppression

            McCain should be Trailin'

            The Grand Old Party is thankfully ailin'

            And into the White House Obama should be sailin'