Poetry

I had a nightmare,
That the people of this Nation,
For the first time ever,
Will be in real despair,

That one day we will be judged,
By the color of our words in flair,
And not the contentment,
Of our characters, yes, I had a nightmare,

That this Nation,
Will rise a new Emperor,
Off its common sense,
From a ghost of terror,

In blood it will be spelled,
Over the Legislative walls,
Strokes of Judiciary Bush,
Demon-cracy for all's.

Julian Bravo, June 1st, 06.

Within the Walls of Freedom,
The sun shines so bright,
The colors are so many,
It all seems so right,

So many Arena Heroes,
So many Stars and Gold Icons,
Synthetic worship awards to all,
And to the most overplayed songs,

Good evening from the World News' big three,
Crafted news with intrinsic values it's all you see,
There is no evidence that blood will ever smell,
And last, a cat on a tree almost fell,

Belittle and ignore, but monitor any noise,
Of all and any alternative voice,
Financially honor the educated mercenaries with a degree,
That for a buck or two,  muffle you and me,

Social engineers of the veggie brain,
Forcing our thoughts to pace in pain,
In the greatest ever freedom of speech,
We speak our minds about chicken processed peach,

And one last award to the newest breed of the human race,
The thesaurus intellectuals of this social disgrace,
Where the idea serves as the vehicle for ancient words to expose,
A pretentious sign of intelligence in self divine verse and prose,   

United we stand,

I don’t mind gas prices from war in Iraq
since I have three shares of Exxon stock.
so I am prepared for oil shortage shock.

Halliburton shares are now on my buy list
for their war profits prove hard to resist
engineered to build each new terrorist.

Iran’s atomic threats don’t bother me,
because I support George Bush diplomacy.
proved  so successful exporting democracy.

Now Mid East war fronts will surely expand
with two more years with Bush still in command
prepared to lead us through foreign quick sand.

Deficits and casualties will sure increase,
as we have our leader allergic to peace
using war threats as election strategies.

I sent an e-mail to my friends
It took three years to make amends
I thought it bright, I thought it smart
They thought I was Bonaparte.

Oh my E-mail, you broke my heart
The one I sent for a new restart
It made my buddies howl and hoot
My battered brain had to reboot.

--

Micro-gremlins made me the fool
Dumped me in the delete pool
I started in a loving format
Now I'm just an e-doormat

Damn you e-mail, you're so cruel
A power surging devil's tool
I thought I'd written wise and true
Back it came, with a virus, too.

--

That note I sent with so much hope
With that silly little joke
Back came replies, about sixty-six
Said don't cc these stupid tricks.

Oh that e-mail was so dumb
I tried to attach a bunch of fun
But e-errors made it worse
Now I want to hire a hearse.

--

So then I went and scanned my file
The one I'd entered with a smile
Now I see why they're so pissed
At those e-glitches that I missed!

Oh glib e-mail, composed in the park
The one that sang just like a lark
The one I should've held on to

I wish for you all as the New Year encroaches,
Bold and creative strategic approaches
To defeating the lies by election officials,
Whose major concern is filling their satchels
With bundles of goodies like payoffs and bribes,
And friendships with vendors who do not subscribe
To audits or paper or trivial matters
Like accurate results and similar blather,

But push for solutions to fill up their coffers
Like touchscreens and printers and other such offers
Of machines that lose votes and breakdown and fail;
Who sell us elections without paper trails.
And no one would listen for years upon years
To the small group of people expressing real fears
Of votes lost and stolen, of breakdowns and freezes,
of vulnerable systems with holes like Swiss cheeses.
But then in a twinkle in 2005
When scarcely a soul thought freedom alive,
Santa came through -- A surprise in his sack!
He brought in a Finn to conduct a bold hack.
He brought in his elves in the form of investors
To sue for their rights ‘gainst crooked divestors. 
He brought a suprise, an election top honcho

Mother of the American Civil Rights Movement

Tiny, fragile lady
Embracing the eight winds of:
Prosperity, decline, disgrace,
Honor, praise, censure,
Suffering and pleasure,
Graces the stage
Like a messenger of hope
In the light of a new dawn,
A time of dignity and humanity
Civil liberty and equal rights,
A new civilization forged
Through tears and laughter,
Friends like never before
We open our hearts to spiritual vigor
And create a lasting peace.
With your leadership, education
And a moral code bring freedom
To the future based on the
Tyranny of the past,
And the conflict of the present
We press on tears flowing
Seeking presence of mind
And determination to overcome
And fulfill our lives with
An indomitable strength
In the spirit of nonviolence.


A Tribute to Rosa Parks on Her Birthday 

If there be God, He must be miffed
to witness mute, while man wild dare
pollute their most essential gift
of seas creating clement air.
Will oceans, once with algae green,
replenish air from seas unclean?
Would God be proud, that man has learned
to squeeze the oil from ancient clay
and fashion goods to earth returned
as plastic trash that can't decay?
Will trees, our smoke makes weak and bare,
no longer grow in poisoned air?
If our Creator, we must please,
inventive man should soon take stock
of chemicals that foul our seas,
transforming Earth to lifeless rock.
Will Seals applaud the end of man
who made their seas his garbage can?
We've changed this world to comfort zone
without regard for any guest
and think the world is ours alone,
all life must serve at our behest.
Will some form of life still linger on,
or something care when man is gone?

Bill Clinton lied about his whore,
which was his blasphemy and sin.
George Bush lied on the need for war,
defends it still with Karl Rove’s spin.
Which liar, I ask, has hurt us more,
weighing  the Iraq mess we’re in?

I celebrate your new robotic fleet,
the unmanned killer plane technology.
Behind a far-off screen controllers mete
out surprise attack on unsuspecting enemy.
They continue to war, denying defeat,
and punishing us for the philanthropy,
of our reward expectant GOP elite.
I too face hidden bombers I can’t see,
when I patrol that same endangered street,
so I need  robots who will die for me.

Regard this man whose word stokes guilt or tears,
to mold our minds to mock his own.
His pronouncements flame our submerged fear
inventing villains that we must stone.

  Rush loathes compassion, preferring hate,
no sinners would this man forgive.
His animus pays, but it would be great
if we would learn to live and let live.

  While praising God, Rush will demonize
with distorted truths he panders as news.
This Goebbels of hate, we should ostracize
and also all merchants pimping his views.