Asking the Congress to rewrite laws
That benefit and enrich themselves
Is asking the wolf not to eat the lamb.
The wolf will eat the lamb.
The lamb cannot avoid this fate
By pretending it is not worth eating.

The wealthy are well rewarded
For not caring about the poor.
To make them care the only way
Is to offer them  tributes.

The rich want you to buy
Their trinkets and toys
And leave the lawmaking to them.

As long as we let the rich
Write the laws and control
Enforcement, the law
Will be slanted in their favor.

Nothing fuels fascism like poor people,
So the rich will raise prices and
Thus keep the people poor.

Dishonest people will always
Blame someone else for their crimes.
In government, they will blame
Honest people trying to do the job
They were elected to do.

If a person fails to be outraged
At the actions of criminals,
He is either criminal himself
Or a defense attorney,
And that person may be
Both at the same time.

Among the biggest mistakes
One can ever make
Is believing campaign promises
Where no evidence exists
Of any plan to keep them.

As long as politics are run
Like a beauty contest,
Nothing like democracy
Ever has a chance to succeed.

In a democratic country,
The common people must
Expect to participate
To make it work.
That means they must work
Within the system to ensure
All nefarious people and laws
Be discovered and thrown out.

Undefended rights are only
Privileges grudgingly by government
Dispensed as alms to beggars.

In a representative government,
Everyone must be a representative.

Yesterday is a terrible day
To plan to fix things.
Today and tomorrow
Are the only time we have to do it.

If a representative
Does not walk his talk,
Stop listening to his talk
And watch his walk.

Do not expect industry or military
To protect your rights.
They are both monetary institutions
Addicted to power.

If Congresspeople earn fortunes
By serving the people,
There can be no equity
In representation.
Corruption will rule the land.

Lobbyists should be imprisoned
if they are indistinguishable
From extortionists.

Voting districts need to be
Based on the needs of the people,
Not the needs of the bank accounts
Of our leadership.

Offshore bank accounts should be
As illegal as they are immoral.

Rooms have been silent
Now they are filled with our voices
The silence is gone and our rights will be born
Conceived by the notions of our mothers
And birthed by our sisterhood and determination
Yes my sisters,
Together we will give our hopes and dreams life

Hope is the last refuge
of the broken and bruised
the painfully confused
who feel ill-used
yet hold on to
a chance to renew
the positive that is
long overdue.

Hope is a smile
that breaks tears
causing some to fall
and others to disappear.
It is a fool’s game
of poor predictions,
bets placed from
bad positions
but still sustain
the lost
and unforgiven,
those painfully driven,
living in the dreams
of what good things
tomorrow might bring.

Hope is a trinket
saved despite the need to eat
so, that when this homeless man meets
his long lost loved
he can give that gift
to the man he misses.
It is a warm spot on
a sidewalk vent,
a hand offering two dollars,
a stranger offering conversations
to break the cold blindness
of this windy winter loneliness.

Hope is daylight
to a prisoner who
moves to make things better
in an unfair system,
an institution
that tries to turn them
into numbers,
less than human
equal to dollar signs.
It is consuming all that bull
running down that rodeo clown
goring him to the core
and making it out
of that gated door
before idiots slam you
back in again.

Hope is a good ear
and a mouth shut
someone who hears
what other people
need so badly to say.

Hope is the lessons
that I have learned and lost
found and forgot
given and taken.
Whether I was right or mistaken
fool or genius
hope is the stream that
swims between us
in shared language,
in shared body movements,
in shared history.
It is the energy
that directs us towards
better days for
all people.

Hope is good
not necessarily
making its lack evil
but it is what people
need to get by,
a reason to stay alive.

Hope is transitive,
equal to what we do
to make dreams reality.

Ultimately, hope is the promise of
compassion yet to come.

He was the meanest kid on the playground
If the kid he picked on was half of his size.
He abused his playmates if they were weak
Had freckles or wore glasses on their eyes.
He was not a handsome lad in any way.
It was almost like he took it out on the world
That none of the guys wanted to play with him
And he seldom got lucky with the girls.

There was the slightest hint of intelligence
But it was always of the devious kind.
Nobody ever thought this kid would turn out
To be the type to make fortunes with his mind.
Taking little kids lunch money from them
Was why he even went to school each day.
If he looked a bit older and wasn’t lazy
He might just have hid out and run away.

He didn’t play ball or do any kind of work
And his mom waited on him hand and foot.
You could tell when he reached legal age
He’d find a woman who would follow suit
And treat him like a six foot baby brat
As if he was a gift to the whole world.
Of course he was in luck there because
It’s easy to hook up with  that kind of girl.

At work he will call all the women sweetie
And soundly slap his cohorts on their backs.
He’ll always remember his boss’s birthday
It pays to keep the important things on track.
If he can block a promotions of co-workers
Who are not Caucasian and Christian,
He will stick to his hidebound beliefs
And stick to ideas of The Dominion.

And if this reprobate ever has children
They will grow up to be just like him;
They’ll subject siblings and playmates
To their own temperament and whim.
Because bullying is passed by parents
From their parents to their own children.
And bullying adheres to no rules about
Morality, propriety, intelligence or wisdom.

The King would leer
and see Caesar sneer
at the folly of loving fools.

Oh, how I know I long to
be made for love.
But in loving you
I am made an ***.
For loss of senses
becomes euphoria
and fairy madness
falls on my blind spot
in a tempest
even Ariel could not abate.
Winds would shred my soul
and see timber set afire
by the lightning of desire.
Using its light to play Othello
flipping white for black.

Oh, Juliet my dear
I fear my love for you
is just an act of suicide.
Still, I would die
happily, as all other lovers do.
For there is much ado
about nothing while
melted men of shadows
and scripted puppets
lose themselves
not in facts
but the opposite of that.
Love makes a poet of me
and a fool of us all.

Jackals  and *******
Clowns and criminals;
Lies and libelous lambastes
With integrity minimal.
Grande Guignol politics
From pusillanimous politicians
Poisoning the populace
With only selfish ambitions.

Sleight of hand shysters
And self-appointed diplomats
Throw out all their morals
And set out the welcome mat
For those the most likely
To pay the highest bribe
And have no care if they sell
The land from under the tribe.

So what if water is poisoned?
As long as they make money.
After all, the rich aren’t harmed.
Now isn’t that incredibly funny?
Who cares about the future?
What matters is right now
And the profit they can make.
It is what the law will allow.

And those that wrote those laws
So cleverly and quietly confused
The very people stupid enough
To so gullibly to be thus used.
But jackals and *******
Really aren’t animals at all.
Nor are they household pets
Who come when they are called.