Parodies...(Kipling)

O, its Logan this and Logan that and Logan another time
but its thank you mister Mosteller when they open up their eyes
There openin up their eyes my boys their openin up their eyes
and its thank you mister Mosteller when they open up their eyes


O its healthcare this and Iraq that and Biden, "shut your face"
but its blame the dang Republicans when reform turns to mistake
Reform turned to mistake Amer'ca reform turned to mistake
an we god dang Republicans tellin ya'al you can keep the change.

Shadow

What have I become, this fenced in suburban jerk with 1.3 kids, a white veneered home, name brand khakis, and a job at the bank. I’ve become a shadow of the reality I long to taste, a robot trying to algorithimize emotion. I am merely the byproduct of a digital evolution. My sea of tranquility is filled with acid, my atmosphere is perforated by the necessities I want, my oxygen is cut down to buy apartment complexes at obscene rates so that on Saturday night, when I’m hanging out with the people I don’t like, from the job which I hate, eating at a place Bill Gates would consider outrageous, I can discuss the property I somewhat own and its meaninglessness worth and finally fit in with the people I already established that I hate. I am the shadow of a once existing man, now so scarcely alive I might as well be dead. I function only on what my digital self does in its futuristic hell-hole of a world, for I am his shadow. I have exited the world of beauty, into the second hand creation of programmed computerization. This world of today has me looking up at my former shadow, now in full form as I have dwindled to its mimicking black state gliding along through what I can only assume to be hell, trying in vain to recapture the beauty I have lost. In this world I am all that I dreamed of in my nightmares, living in the so-called land of the free, where this disclaimer is true. “You now enter paradise where no man goes hungry, but all starve, the refuge for the homeless, in which all live on the streets, the land of the wealthy, where all beg, the land of Christianity, in which all men are hypocrites, and the land of the free, where all men wear chains.” It was I who fastened my chains, and I who threw away their key. I bound myself to my shadow and die in this treacherous dream. I have no pulse, nor breath in me as I wander around chasing my shadow as it dances about in digital hell and I follow it to our doom. I pretended once that I alone was the master of my fate, but I died by the hand of my once living self and am captured and left to die. You may find me one day hiding behind the sun following my shadow to our end, you might call out, but I cannot hear, deafened in my race to death so fast I didn’t even enjoy this place. I am a shadow now a by-product of this humanist revolution, and I urge you to shed your tears for me. For I locked myself in with no escape to a place I cannot be, trapped inside suburbia and no one can hear my screams.

Time and Time again I fall

I haven’t always lived in hate
There was a time when they loved me
Now they simply turn and laugh at my inviting gate
As they gossip and chirp about me
Not so long ago it was my statue in the park
I was worshipped and loved by all
But now they’ve all but tore it apart
My balcony taken from underneath, no one to catch my fall
It was I who tore down my pedestal
My arrogance and sense of pride
I built myself up with medals
And worthless, I am all but died
When time and time again I lifted up
I simply made it harder,
For brick by brick from underneath
Further still I fall
I have not to arms to catch me,
Only those to lift me up
And higher still I crawl and screech
Harder still, the fall.

...It was then that you carried me

Though in this sea of tumult find,
I lean on him and i am fine,
Death crawls screeching away from thee
As stronger still, you cling to me
This wave ahead is bigger than them all
But if i trust on him i shall never fall
I look down in complacency
Questioning if he's still carrying me
And as i flee from grace's grasp
And fall into this pending doom
He calls me back upon his lap
And as i die i am home at last