Could be I’m on a mission:
Convince the entire world
I am the World's Greatest Living
English Language poet;
Of course, genius such as mine
Goes generally unrecognized until
The posthumous crowd weighs in.
And yet, wouldn’t it be nice?

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Yes, wouldn’t it be nice?
(The Nobel Prize,
Tribute at the Kennedy Center,
A MacArthur Grant,
The Presidential Medal of Honor,
Reverent BJs from hipster groupies . . .
The Poet Laureate in his vicarage,
Enjoying my sweet twilight celebrity.)

(Cue “Guys & Dolls” soundtrack: “What's in the daily news?
I'll tell you what's in the daily news.”)
23: Beheaded at Nigerian Election Rally!
Amanda Knox Gets Away with ****** Again in Italy!
Kung Pow: Silicon Valley Penisocracy Crushes Ellen Pao
German Crash Dummy Co-pilot Flies Jet into the Alps!
Hilary’s Emails Are *****!
Sierra Leone Ebola Lockdown!
Iran: Kooks with Nukes!
Sri Lankan President’s Brother Dies from Ax Wounds!
Saudi Diplomats Evacuate Yemen!
Stampede at Hindu Bathing Ritual, Bangladesh Kills at Least 10!
Simply put:  THE WORLD IS IN A STATE OF ****.

Perhaps it’s time we turn again.
Seek solace in poetry—
“Yeah, chemistry,” insists my Sky Masterson,
My “Guys & Dolls” alter ago.
Surprised? You shouldn’t be.
All poets are gamblers & moonshiners.
We polish our chemical craft,
Sweet-talking the distillation apparatus,
Getting us, getting at linguistic essence.
Cunning linguists are we.
(Colonel Angus, are you back?)
Oyez! Oyez! The gavel raps:
“The Curious Case of Sam Hayakawa.”
We open this hearing to determine
Whether or not S.I. Hayakawa—guilty of
Numerous crimes against humanity & other
Professional Neo-Fascist “entrechats.”--
Whether or not he merits a kinder, gentler
Wikipedia BIO.
(Wikipedia ( i/ˌwɪkɨˈpiːdiə/ or  i/ˌwɪkiˈpiːdiə/ WIK-i-***-dee-ə) Wikipedia)
We open this forum, focusing on his
Courageous stand against the
SDS & Black Panthers, part of
An unlikely coalition: The Worker-Student Alliance
& It’s rival, Joe Hill Caucuses.
Da Name of the Place:
(“I like it like that!” Hot Chelle Rae-“I Like It Like That” lyrics| Metro Lyrics www.metrolyrics.com Lyrics to 'I Like It Like That' by Hot Chelle Rae. “Let's get it on, yeah, y'all can come along/Everybody drinks on me, buy out the bar /Just to feel like I'm.”)
The name of the place: San Francisco State,
1968-69, the longest student strike in U.S. history,
Led successfully to the creation of
Black & Other Ethnic studies programs
On campuses across the country,
And, one could argue,
Gave the green light to
Osama Hussein Obama,
Our first Uncle Tom President.
But I digress.

ACTING SFSU President, Dr. Hayakawa—
Perpetual audition, the pressure on,
Feisty, independent-minded & combative,
Screaming at that skeevy student mob:
(Skeevy as in “He bought the thing from
Some skeevy dude in an alley.")
Declaring “A State of Emergency,”
Calling in the SFPD, whose
Inexplicable slogan says”
“Oro en Paz,
Fierro en Guerra.”
Archaic Spanish for
Gold in peace,
Iron in war, by the by,
For you holdouts,
Those of you who still
Think the “English First Movement”
Breathes life still.
I’ve got more news for you:
That crusade died long ago,
Locked up, dark & shuttered,
Bank Repo thugs, their thick
Neck muscles flexing from side to side,
Sashaying across the parking lot,
Like John Wayne on steroids,
Right up to the front door.)
The SFPD: San Francisco city fuzz,
(As they were known at the time) &
The California National Guard, as well,
Obstreperously, generously catered by
Governor Ronald Wilson Reagan,
(Early stage, Alzheimer’s at the time.
But still very much “The Gypper,”
Still chipper in Sacramento.)
Ronnie--keenly interested in
The Eureka State’s congressional clout,
Lassoes a seat in the U.S. House of Lords:
AKA: The U.S. Senate, SPQR.
It’s still hard . . .

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Still hard to believe that California was once
Rock solid in the clutches of the GOP,
Gripped tightly in the Party’s
Desperate talons. But the grip slipped,
Slipped in the slip-sliding 1970s.
It got harder and harder . . .

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Harder and harder to remind
Leroy & the rest of his ebony posse,
That it was Abraham Lincoln—
“The Great Emancipator” himself—who was,
Our first Republican President.
The Emancipation Proclamation:
That toothless rhetorical flourish,
Based solely on Abe’s
Constitutional authority as
Commander-in-Chief,
Not on a law passed by Congress.
It was just Abe blowing smoke
Up their ***** again,
Just an egalitarian blast from
His Old Kentucky past,
A youth spent splitting rails,
Busting his *** just like
Any plantation ******,
A stark plebeian commonality,
Too deeply etched to be ignored.
Poor Abraham Lincoln:
Probably a **** Creek crypto-Jew,
Neutered by the opposition:
His very own Republican majority Congress,
Another example of the GOP
Shooting off its own foot, right up there
With Mitt Romney’s "47 percent of the people,”
The rhetorical gaffe which cost him his
Second & final shot at the White House.
But I digress.

Senator Sam S.I. Samuel Hayakawa:
That inscrutable Asian fixer, is now U.S. Senator,
Republican, California, 1976-83
Pulpit-bullying his Senate colleagues,
Fiercely opposed to transfer of the
Panama Canal & Panama Canal Zone to
Panama: a diplomatic no-brainer; Duh?
Their freaking name is on both of them.
Senator Sam, obstinate & blustering:
"We should keep the Panama Canal.
After all, we stole it fair and square.”
And Hayakawa, later the driving impetus
Behind the Far Right “English Only” movement.
His co-founding an "Official English"
Advocacy group, U.S. English;
Their party line summarizes their belief:
“The passage of English as the official language will help to expand opportunities for immigrants to learn and speak English, the single greatest empowering tool that immigrants must have to succeed."
That’s how they sold it, anyway.
In sooth: just old-fashioned nativist
Anti-immigration hysteria.

Hayakawa: always the high achiever.
Hayakawa: The Great Assimilator,
Preaching his xenophobic Gospel:
“Immigration Must Be Reduced!”
Aryan rhetoric, of course,
A bi-product of radical authoritarian nationalism,
A movement with deep American roots.
Senator Sam: a Japanese-Canadian-American,
Always tried too hard to fit in.
Sam, comfortable in Chicago during WWII,
Not personally subject to confinement,
Advocated that Japanese-Americans
Submit to FDR’s 1942, Executive Order 9066.
“Time in camp, will eventually work to Japanese advantage."
Later, during the Congressional debate over
The Civil Liberties Act of 1988 . . .
(Passed the House on September 17, 1987 (243–141)
Passed the Senate on April 20, 1988 (69–27, in lieu of S. 1009)
Reported by the joint conference committee on July 26, 1988,
Agreed to by the Senate on July 27, 1988 (voice vote) and
By the House on August 4, 1988 (257–156,
Signed into law by President Ronald Reagan 8/10/88.
He opposed $reparations for WWII internment:
“Japanese-Americans should not
Be paid for fulfilling their obligations."
Some guys, I guess, would say, or
Do anything for Bohemia Club membership.
Plagued by night terrors, nonetheless,
His Manzanar nightmares, his vivid
Imaginary experience at other Japanese
Internment Sites: Tule Lake & Camp Rohwer.
Stalag (German pronunciation: [ˈʃtalak])
Stalags, infamous still,
“Stalags ‘R Us,”
Still palpable memories for
Issei ("first generation")
& Nisei ("second generation").
See: 323 U.S. 214. Korematsu v. United States
(No. 22: Argued: October 11, 12, 1944.
Decided: December 18, 1944.140 F.2d 289.
The opinion, written by Hugo Black,
Chief Justice Harlan Stone, Presiding.)

Hayakawa: a strange duck, of course,
But we mustn’t ignore his strong credentials,
And I’d like to disabuse anyone here
Of the notion that it was anything
Other than his academic record
That got his case to this Forum.
Oyez! Oyez! The gavel raps:
“The Curious Case of Sam Hayakawa.”
So begins this fractured Pardoner’s Tale,
This petition for forgiveness,
The Capo di Tutti Capi,
Presiding: the original Italian mafioso,
His Eminence--the Vicar of Jesus Christ,
The Supreme Pontiff
Pope Paparazzi of Rome!
Roma: the only venue large enough to
Dispense dispensation of this magnitude.

Hayakawa: everyone says his C.V. is “impeccable.”
But did anyone ever freaking Google it?
Just where did Professor Sam go to school?
Undergrad? The University of Manitoba,
Truly, by any Third World Standard
A great bastion of intellectual rigor;
Grad school? McGill and U Wisconsin-Madison.
He was a Canadian by birth,
His academic discipline was Semantics.
(As in “That’s just semantics,”
That all-purpose rejoinder in any argument.)
Professor Hayakawa, The Semanticist,
He taught us: “All thought is sub-vocal speech.”

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Hmmm? We think in words.
The medium of thought is language.
If you grok this for the first time,
Let’s stop to celebrate our enlightenment,
With a cultural nod of respect,
We salute our Islamic brethren.
Radical Islam: the new bogeyman,
Responsible for keeping lights on in Alexandria,
Paying the defense & intelligence bills,
Sustaining that sinister
Military-Industrial complex
Ike warned us about.
Hang in there, Mustafa, old buddy.
Like the Cold War, this insanity
Will eventually blow over.
Orwell’s Oceania will reshuffle
Its deck of global grab-***, and a
New enemy will suddenly appear.
Big Brother, as always,
In the full-control mode,
Simply put: on top of the situation.
So Hurrah!
Allāhu Akbar. “God is Great!
The Takbīr (the term for the
Arabic phrase: usually translated as
"God is [the] greatest.")

“All thought is sub-vocal speech.”
What a simple, yet profound insight!
Just a short hop, skip & jump to the
Realization that, perhaps, the clarity
& Power of our minds can be groomed,
Improved upon by mastery of—
In Sam’s case, anyway--the English Language.
Was this, perhaps, the germ of U.S. English,
The political lobbying organization
He co-founded, dedicated to making
English, the official language of the United States.
Hayakawa: a wooly conservative of his own design;
No wonder Governor Reagan loved him.

Dr. S.I. Hayakawa, a colorful and polarizing
Figure in California politics during the 1960s and 70s.
Can we forgive his daily afternoon naps.
Asleep on the floor of the U.S. Senate,
Leaving California so pathetically,
So ostensibly under-represented.
Senator Sam’s comatose presence at
Washington-on Potomac; the
District of Columbia.
A long time ago,
In a distant galaxy . . .
Far, far away.

TEAR GAS.
Alas, long before he got to Washington,
Long before ever setting foot off campus,
He called for tear gas to
Disperse those pesky college kids.
I repeat myself for emphasis:
He authorized the use of tear gas at SF State.
Tear gas: a lachrymatory agent?
Actually, a potentially lethal
Chemical agent . . .
(Yeah, Chemistry!
To wit: Sgt. Sara Brown,
Referencing “Guys & Dolls” again.)
Outlawed for use during wartime,
Banned in international warfare
Under both the 1925 Geneva Protocol; & the
Chemical Weapons Convention;
“Tear gas:  a weapon of war against
The people. We believe that
Tear gas remains a chemical weapon
Whether used on a battlefield, or city streets.”

Thus, history will be your judge,
You unleashed tear gas on college kids,
So I wouldn’t expect a rep makeover
Any time soon, Ichiye-san, my ichiban friend.

Fidel Castro, the secular Pontiff
The day began with sadness Fidel Castro is dead despite the USA's bilious behaviour
And ill attempt to **** him, he was able to create a health system second to none
And also made the country with the highest literacy on that part of the world which
will stand the people well in the coming storm
He had many flaws democracy as we understand it was not on the list, mind the way
it is practised in the west is not impressive
I towering political giant his place in history is assured on a page of its own and not
lumped together with King    & Queens and other useless historical figure
We expect the lying Cuban mafia will try to enter, bring their I-Phones
and cheap day loans, one hope when they find life will tear them apart that they will
not forsake the socialist revolution and what Cuba was before Fidel Castro and can
so easily a place for gambling and prostitution  again

“If you or someone you know
Has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s . . . ”
You can tell a great deal about UNLV,
My Vegas morning, easy listening
Radio station of choice,
When I first sit down,
Sit down to work in the morning,
One can surmise from the
Target demographics of so dire,
Such sober pronunciamentos, by
DJ Mueller, 91.5 The Source»
Live from UNLV/KUNV
Las Vegas kunv.org/KUNV
The Jazz Lounge with
Frank Mueller, Thursday, 7:00 am-11:00 am.
So don’t say I never
****** your ****--metaphorically speaking—
Herr Mueller, my good friend.
And while we’re on
The subject: WORK.
They never tell you that
Writing is such ******* hard work,
Which explains my need to **** up &
Lubricate the mechanism,
Before I start.
But I digress.

Just in case you haven’t noticed,
In case you had not been taking heed, CNN:
There’s an exciting new, radical ******,
Left-wing personage & presence
Making a play for the main room,
Center stage, center ring
Global Palace & Amphitheater.
I refer, of course to
Pope Francis:
Media-savvy, media mensch,
Crafting his own image,
Playing to the masses,
Choosing the namesake--
Francesco—right outta the gate,
Zip outta some Franco Zeffirelli
“Brother Sun, Sister Moon,”
Saint Francis di Assisi,
Talent show.
Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio,
In Buenos Aires, Argentina,
He worked briefly as a
Chemical technician
(Read: “bomb maker”)
& Nightclub bouncer
(Read: “sadist”)
Before resuming
Seminary studies, 1969.
(Tribute PSA: October 29, 1969: Happy 40th Birthday to a Radical Idea! Bill Duvall, SRI computer room. Late 1960s, the evening of October 29, 1969 the first data travelled between two nodes of the ARPANET, a key ancestor of the Internet.)
Pope Francis is a master at technology,
As any aspiring Global Wizard must be.
He has a special web site:
“Papal Bulls & Other *******.” Palabras del Papa Francisco - News.va www.news.va/es/source/vatican-va Translate this page PAPA FRANCISCO. AUDIENCIA GENERAL Miércoles 13 de mayo de 2015. [Multimedia]. Queridos . . .

Francis: Pope in Rome,
Signing international treaties again.
The Holy See himself—that
Wacky Argentinian--
One of many Lefty Cardinals,
Pulls off upset ordination in
Vatican City, God’s little 110 acres,
Our world’s smallest city & sovereign state,
Patrolled by a wacky-striped
Swiss Wackenhut Swat Team,
The Vatican: former playground for Nero,
**** Command Central for Caligula,
Construct of Mussolini’s $92 million
(More than $1 billion in today’s
Ever more worthless,
Ever more inflation soaring money!)
Lateran hush money,
Vatican monopoly money,
Seed money for colonial expansion,
Il Duce signing on behalf of
King Victor Emmanuel III,
Remembered today
Mainly for his short stature, &
Exile to Alexandria, Egypt,
Where he died and was buried.
“Vic the Man,” as he was known
Here in the Principality of Monaco,
“Vic the Man in Monte Carlo.”
But I digress.

Just the other day, Pope Francis
Signed another international treaty,
Recognizing Palestinian statehood,
Generating praise from Palestinians, &
Criticism from Israelis, who said:
“The move does not advance peace efforts.”
“Even this Philo-Semitic pope,
This pope who cares about the Jews,
Even he doesn’t get it,” said
David Horovitz, Editor,
The Times of Israel,
Which is what one would expect from
The guy who wrote the book:
A Little Too Close to God,
Still Life with Bombers:
Israel in the Age of Terrorism . . .

It is tempting to ignore the
Sheer ego, the colossal megalomania
That is Jorge Mario Bergoglio,
Truly a personage of great moral suasion,
Whether he’s cleaning the feet of the homeless,
Dialing up strangers for late-night chats or
Convincing the self-described atheist,
Raúl Castro to give Catholicism a second look . . .
This pope who took the name of a
Nature-loving pauper,
This Pope in Rome,
Francis:  Transformative,
Revolutionary gust.
Pontiff, from Latin: “a bridge,”
Spanning the God-Man divide.
We are talking about a brotherhood,
That survived both Borgia & Medici,
And other assorted kink-fests for centuries.
Just what bizarre peccadillo
Required the resignation of
Benedict XVI, in itself, a
2,000-year first?
Francis:  the first Jesuit Pope.
Francis: the first Pope from America.
Francis: “The circumstances surrounding
Benedict's decision to step down
Will titillate scholars and the journalists alike,
For many years to come,
Given his resignation came so soon
After the “VATI-LEAKS” revelations:
Vatican bank corruption,
Pederast-priest cover-ups, &
Other ignominious fiascos
Requiring significant damage control.

One would think that an institution
With their own royal observatory,
The Papal See’s inter-galactic,
Night-vision telescope, Mount Graham,
Southeast of Tucson, Arizona,
Could steer clear of faulty stars.

Baby,
     I
           think that
      maybe,
We've ****** up.
    Cause we've been force fed such fractured fallacies like,  
A Jewish zombie who is his own father,  
A chosen people, and immortality.
       Oh and did you know slavery was OK?
        How about ****?
Yeah the problem with an endless line of orphans is the exponential loss of the truth of our cosmic dead-beat dad.
                                  Well now,
The hand that feeds has fallen short, with the founding fathers roll in their graves.
Whilst silly sheep support Disillusioned delusions dressed,
in
Red White and Blue,


Wait for their cue, because
The Republic
is being held at gun point, with modern Gestapos ready and willing for the killing.
The final days of momma democracy await.

Zealous jealous and out for blood, with a cross across their chests as they proclaim; "IN HIS NAME, WE SMITE YE!"

Now thats just jurisdiction to judge the jury.

And now

She showers us
With this Vampiric ecstasy,
As they mask our mothers ****** under the banner of God.

As they
             wipe away the blood gushing,
      from the slit throat of
Lady Liberty,
with whats left of our crumbling
Constitution,
only to wrap her in a once glorious flag, now despoiled with
The poisonous blessings bought by the pontiff of flame
whose pseudo fame is a sign
that this clandestine facade will end soon.

Yet still we must deal with another contradiction, another, convoluted convulsion of consciousness severing our ties with that
good ol' American dream.

So watch them promote our fall, greeting hell-fire half-heartedly, these sanctimonious masses amass, a menacing masquerade.

See they've paraded on the moral high ground pointing the finger without the grounds to back themselves up, aside from a dusty old book and the rusty rapturous moans of defiled men.

As chosen children I chide you, for archaic superstition must be left behind, a fact that most may find, a tad bit unacceptable, even while you drive your SUV's and gorge on Mickey D's, while you gun down doctors and destroy human intelligence. Remember the dark ages? Guess who made them dark.

Your men on top ****** male prostitutes and tap dance in the mens room, denying every allegation; look, this is a nation stuck on revelation hell bent on escaping damnation.

And they say I'm the Devil! One worth the reapers embrace, those carcinogen caricatures carried by the book.
When fear rules their hearts,
Destruction and War
beget by their weakness.
                          Now all I say is throw it all away, Live, ****, and Love. Just imagine a world free, free from terror, war, hate, separation, and segregation.
             Imagine finally clogging that cancerous ventricle our country holds so dear.
   Imagine the end to a crutch,
A spiritual mod,
Imagine a world,
Without the illusion of God.

There was a time in Europe long ago
When no man died for freedom anywhere,
But England’s lion leaping from its lair
Laid hands on the oppressor! it was so
While England could a great Republic show.
Witness the men of Piedmont, chiefest care
Of Cromwell, when with impotent despair
The Pontiff in his painted portico
Trembled before our stern ambassadors.
How comes it then that from such high estate
We have thus fallen, save that Luxury
With barren merchandise piles up the gate
Where noble thoughts and deeds should enter by:
Else might we still be Milton’s heritors.

The Roman pontiff as a man
walks closer to God in every human.

Finally, a little girl remembers the song
thanks to the thief and a good story.
Do you know your family's wisdom?
Jessica Jackson is not keen but ready
to choose to be a full-time student.

Life on Earth goes to Anthony Strong's
Poverty in the Pacific, and more.
I asked him how much music I wanted
to make. He said, Do not forget the deep
feelings of the family and, finally,
the songs and the perfect baby.

Jason Jones is not his father.
For these full-time students,
I hear dead skin, dry, voices
and concerts, sick room,
of age. They have asthma,
deep breathing, lessons, colors,
texts, emotions and advice.
Do you have a bank account?

For Everyone, coffee is personal
and money pain, language, bread,
smiling sleep, safety, hands, age,
immigration status. For the logistics
service of coffee machines and
private banks, money, better negotiations,
bread dust, sleep, security, cultural
personality, cultural heritage, joy,
praise and then real life, the good
leader of the CDS, Jessica Jackson
is a clear student. Listening to the ancient priest
Translations of the priest Frequency पुजारी priest,
pujari, decorator, pontiff, worshiper पादरी pastor,
priest, father, church, secretary, pontiff.

Famous पुरोहित priest, chaplain, presbyter,
clerk, Definitions of nominal consecrated
priest 1 Catholic Church The Orthodox or
Anglican peoples have the authority to perform some rituals
and administer some sacraments.

After leaving Perth, he was a priest
in the Anglican Church
of St. Augustine in Bull
in New South Wales. Deck 2
was used to **** fish caught in fishing.

If fish is needed for the ***,
it should be killed quickly
and cleaned with a priest's knife,
and then left out of sight.
The word 1 ordains the priesthood.

As the church in Wales at that time
did not allow women priests,                                he had to wait until January  
for his priest in St. Asaf's cathedral.
Examples of priest The priest
of Shinto blesses the circle that is
considered sacred ground. Finally,
a girl tells the song, thanks to a thief
and a good story. Do you know
who your family is? Jessica Jackson
is not a spray, but she is ready
to choose a full-time job.

Listen to the strong settlement of the land,
poverty in the Pacific Ocean and much more.
Greetings, transfers, Asian friends Hada,
Chennai and most of the Gozo INGG links
are the fastest and most successful phone
and service efforts. Clean, clean, clean, clean,
shield, sun, sometimes in real life and love.

Valentine's Day, at public events,
do you want to meet the baby?
I asked him how much music I want to make.
Do not forget the deep feelings
of the family and, finally, the songs
and the perfect baby. Jason Jones
is not his father. For these full-time students,
I hear dead skin, dry, voice and concert,
sick room of age. They have asthma,
deep breathing, lessons, colors,                                       emotions and advice.

Do you have a bank account?
Everyone, coffee is personal
and money, pain, language,
bread, smile, sleep, safety,
hands, age, immigration status.
For the logistics service
of coffee machines and private
banks, money, better negotiation,
bread dust, sleep, security,
cultural personality, cultural
heritage, joy, praise
and then real life.

The good leader of the CDS, Jessica
Jackson is a clear student. Listening
to the ancient priest Translations
of the priest Frequency पुजारी priest,
pujari, decorator, pontiff, worshiper
पादरी pastor, priest, father, church,
secretary, pontiff Famous पुरोहित priest,
chaplain, presbyter, clerk, cleric.

Definitions of nominal consecrated
priest 1 Catholic Church The Orthodox
or Anglican peoples have the authority
to perform some rituals and administer
some sacraments. After leaving Perth,
he was a priest in the Anglican Church
of St. Augustine Bull in New South Wales.

Deck 2 was used to **** fish caught
fishing. If fish is needed for the ***,
it should be killed quickly and cleaned with
a priest or a knife, and then left out of sight.

The word 1 ordains the priesthood. As the
church in Wales at that time did not allow
women priests, he had to wait until January
for his priesthood in St. Asaf's cathedral.
Examples of priest The priests of Shinto
bless the circle considered sacred ground.

I have a man with a pointy hat
Lives under my desktop lid,
He came for muffins and jam, and that,
I call the Wizard of Did,
His beard got caught when the lid came down
So I had to trim it back,
But he says it’s comfy and warm in there
So he’s turned it into a flat.

I thought at first I would charge him rent
But he wasn’t too keen on that,
So I suggested a garden tent
And he said he’d pass the hat.
I’d try to type in the early hours
But he’d bang up under the lid,
‘How can I get my beauty sleep,’
He said, the Wizard of Did.

‘You’re going to have to pay your way,’
I said, ‘It’s not for free,
‘You’d better come up with something good
That’s of some use to me.’
‘You say you struggle for plots,’ he said,
‘Well I can help with those,
‘I’m full of people I want to be,
I just need different clothes.’

The Wizard was as good as his word
He’d pop up now and then,
Whenever I’d sit and scratch my head
He’d mention Holy men,
Then march along the top of the desk
With mitre, staff and cross,
And make me kiss the pontiff’s ring
On the eve of Pentecost.

He’d play the role of a murderer,
He’d play the role of a clown,
He’d play an old sheep herder-er
With a crook in a shepherd’s gown,
He’d pop up with a pirate’s patch
And ****** pieces of eight,
Or keep me longing for Molly Brown
When my ship came in too late.

Whenever I sat there at a loss
For a line, a rhyme, a verse,
He’d throw a bag on the table top
And say, ‘Now pick a curse!’
He’d turn mine into a haunted house
And he’d stalk me in the gloom,
And have me making a pact with Faust
In a dark and lonely tomb.

And now when I think my muse has gone
That my stories have been spent,
I tap-tap-tap on the table top
And he says, ‘You must repent!
I’m not a bottomless pit, you know,’
Climbs in, and closes the lid,
I say, ‘You promised a constant flow,’
And he groans, ‘I know… I Did!’

David Lewis Paget

♗  ♗  ♗  ♗  ♗  ♗  ♗

Hopery, changery, stranger-than-strangery
tip the good vicar your hat—
as he sits with Obama, the global Gautama
indulging in neighborly chat.

Popery, popery, changery-hopery
grant the old Pontiff his wish.
Then summon a bishop to season and dish up
a kettle of catechized fish.

Changery, hopery—swing from the ropery,
garnish the Vatican stew.
The Cardinals compassed, the media rumpused
the Protestants joined in, too…

Fakery, changery, safety in dangery
lack of direction was lost
as it became clear that no concord was near
and the threshold of lunacy crossed.

Changery-hopery, soap-on-a-ropery,
buy the Obama a beer.
Let the Lord’s liberation enlighten our nation
as forums and quorums get queer.

Hopery, changery, babe-in-a-mangery
hail the immaculate mess;
until limbo is purged and repentance is urged
and the canonized con-men confess.

Babilo-mockery, roll with the rockery
kiss the pontificate ring;
til’ the old Argentinian wax Constantinian
causing Gods angels to sing.

Jiggery-pokery fooling the folkery
monkery second to none…
what was once sacrilegious is now a religious
conventional focus of fun.

Papacy, lunacy piping the tunacy
Father goose mothered the egg –
but it cracked in the nest while the stupefied West
lit a match to a gunpowder keg.

Yessiree/nopery—smoking the dopery
opiates dulling the masses
who bow genuflecting, with candles reflecting
the shine of their Latinate *****.

Fakery funkery, pachyderm trunkery
hierophants never forget
but the clown and his trainer cut loose the restrainer
and cancelled the circus’s debt.

Piggery, smokery, tighten the chokery
offer the refugees bacon;
their mullahs may howl with a slaughterhouse scowl
but the empire’s free for the takin’…

On a throne in Rome is where satan is seated; eating the flesh of man; like a pagan Caesar being fed grapes. He sits, awaiting man, to kneel before him: kissing the ring.

Drinking the blood of man, by his royal cup; that which he never touches with his own fingers. King of all kings, lord of all lords; pope, pontiff patriarch and arch-bishop of all Christendom -- rejects you Rome.
From the schism to the Reformation, yet the prey are tempted as you ****** a bogus return. To/from an institution steeped in crises; openly admitting its satanic infiltration. Men adorn you with biblical claims of negative revelation. As if your satanic throne was of divine establishment. Claiming a unity that never was. Your foes thinking 'denominations' are a division of Christ's Church. While you knowing that 'a house divided cannot stand'.

Awaken your souls hiding among the farther Eastern 'Church', or those farther West. Separated brethren --or-- imitation Christian may your throne be carried on your shoulders by those observing your divine monarchy. Hail Popery! As you in self-pity's pedestal sight Peter. While the post-Protestant ecclesial coward prey sight Judas.

© S. Wesley Mcgranor

He conjures conscience
constable of contrived control
pontiff in a pool of dogmas
commanding total touch
filigree lover, a shadow-figure
poses in folds of his focus
I am flush
He is the fury
Two isotopes fashioned for synergy's
ping-pong pleasing poetry
The poise
that invokes,
magic... Sticks and midnight
Strokes.

Magnanimously.

I try to bring love
as if it were the last remedy
in this, our irrelevant reluctance of relish,
our satin satire,

when we swell, swirl, swish
somehow we understand
kindled by this kink
kissed by kismet's lending allure
Luridly
He is the murk
Once I was the pure...

He stirs manx and mesh
a mint-tingle on my flesh
an open oyster
which offers black pearls
And quicksilver hush
Wrapped in a maddening shell
he is my guilty blush
I am his kiss and tell...

they are all asleep
I am not
I cannot find slumber
I am cognizant
I ingest my cafe through my sipping lips
I type right now... at this moment

My hands and body sometimes shake and ache
(shake and bake- hmmmm, "I see daily humor in that stroke")
I pry my appendages apart in the sunlight hours

Why does Nick Cage play this role and how does the Pontiff entertain his?
Where do hobbits come in and the fae make for a common place in nature? but I do recommend

I do recommend

Luther walks forth in yon majestic frame,
Bright beam of heaven, and heir of endless fame,
Born, like thyself, thro toils and griefs to wind,
From slavery’s chains to free the captive mind,
Brave adverse crowns, control the pontiff sway,
And bring benighted nations into day.
Remark what crowds his name around him brings,
Schools, synods, prelates, potentates and kings,
All gaining knowledge from his boundless store,
And join’d to shield him from the papal power.
First of his friends, see Frederic’s princely form
Ward from the sage divine the gathering storm,
In learned Wittemburgh secure his seat,
High throne of thought, religion’s safe retreat.
There sits Melancthon, mild as morning light,
And feuds, tho sacred, soften in his sight;
In terms so gentle flows his tuneful tongue,
Even cloister’d bigots join the pupil throng;
By all sectarian chiefs he lives approved,
By monarchs courted and by men beloved…

What is it then
what do you want and
when do you want it?

Religion?
ask the pontiff.

Sunday fails me again
the clang of the bell and
the fall of the rain and the
vicar crying Jesus as if he's
the one in pain.

I have no idea
how I got here
where it began
whether he was a man or
a god or the son of a god
or just plain old fashioned
odd, but it seems to me
that if he was all that he'd
of got a pat on the head and
not nailed to some planks
for the
rank and file to file past
and for the cranks to decry him.

Not being keen on the
reverend or the chapel
scene
I take a scenic walk through
the rubble and grime and take
time out for
a talk with myself.

And sometimes I understand
and others I don't what
I want and want it when,
but then again and then
again and Sunday fails me
yet when I look closely
I am really not sure.

The watery waves of Marcus Island and Max Max springing to mind in many areas of the Museum; Words are a mistake, then at the pleasure of my work; John, John was a true soldier, the minor elements of the New Dawn and, in general, a flash of fire at the end of United States history in the shadow of death; and what is my Max Max source? And my mouth and my fingers, my mouth to your mouth, mouth, my mouth and your eyes, and sir, I do not know the names of your feet, to teach and encourage the people, to hide them, us, at this moment. all the same, we talk about using the hairy thing, in fact, it is a function of solving the problems of the pontiff in rapid increase, adoring the Holy Spirit called Spirit, in the bread sticks and in some cases, the drink of the night, when the air is clear, as in Isaiah, the voice of one in freedom? In recent years, photos of girls singing music, is like a business; 1 - Go to the room, and tell people? The service of the DEA is limited to the other lights in the United States, at the end of the day, with decorative materials and ornaments and ornaments. § If not, it is true that they compete on such a screen, on a world track and, therefore, the Maecenas' car for the land speed record is also announced in Asia with Cicero at Maecenas' side, which is common folklore in the mountains. - and in the mountains. in front of the destruction in the end, this is what will be done ... do what he did, and ask about the legend of the Drugs of Osiris, that we know is him

Through the desolate Dasht-e-Lut desert. Brisehal's huge shadowy structure moved him when he clothed himself to the whole of the Middle East, even disobeying his parents; beings unpopulated from places of contemplation that were emerging from their great mountain of the enchanted desert. The lemurs were overflowing, wandering alone as if wanting to hold on to the last sparks of politics that remained for them to surrender in their own unencumbered exile. Brisehal was a canine-headed mountain similar to Anubis, but millions of times the size upward and hydrochloric, like the prospect of parishioners entering the garden-kingdom of Heaven on their laps. Before shaking the day with the movement of his trembling footsteps, Brisehal spent two years moving day and night on the surface that became attractive to Solari's lux. Brisehal in this fifth codex was liquefied in the black layer of the wind tunnels that were by Dash-e-Lut, until the sensory layer of Dasht-e-Kavir, being attracted by the tunnel of the cave 308 meters high in Intra geological Patmos, all the sculptures and images of the cusps were made near 103 meters of initial altitude in this vertical subway, in connection with parallels that were retracted in cubic tons, drilling the dolonines or geological depressions in the extensive Lut, for a giant born from the laments and lacerations of Vernarth, when he was mentored by arrows in the middle of the Gaugamela field, even moving Maceo. When the sinkholes moved noisily, smaller mountain ranges were conceived deduced with the greater effect of their rotating nerves.

They were immense thunderings that even scrubbed even the nimbus spheroids reddened by Dasht-e-Kavir's clamor. He turned from left to right, pretending to exile the Lut Desert, tubed from his pro-generation by two bundles of high-density optical or fibral rope that he energized, and that could cohabit with Vernarth disabled in his odyssey of the Horcondising (Paradise of the lineage of Vernarth to Gaugamela).
Canto de Brisehal: “the veil that shelters indifference, has been knotted in the hatched abdomen of the earth, and of the doline that protected me from the folio that exchanges what has or will happen. The feat of all those who suffer from standing and lying down, have three routine abortions in their relative white pregnancy, which made me nest in love for my lord Vernarth. The Eritrean Sibyl, neither in Greek nor in Latin, has to circumvent the breviaries of the Pontiff Maximus who speaks while he sleeps, of aniline nights where no one perishes awake. "

Sibylline for the Saudi, from the vortex the gulfs that hide are directed,
from where they are reborn as choirs of Aeschylus, behind the springs of Agamemnon, where Clytemnestra opens the plains that make the

Shamal runs through its dry mood dew, but wet with Eritrean sap, it is an affront in subtropical springs that dry up tears from the sturdy fallen body, in tears that will not be heard by the tenacious hemp...

Al-Haffar, pierced in arrows on his thighs, arms, and pectoral, where the star opens, shining for those who die for it in the first sheet-lightning of the Thorayya night,

with violent hugs to receive who from a codex, receives the fifth bowl, for the violent winds of fishermen who ditched themselves from the wind into fine dust, and from the cleft hands of Aldebaran, peepholes of bilges of ogres that are born hellish to die as, pious in the arms of the Eritrean Sibyls, and in prologues of Brisehal with so many meters of wingspan, notwithstanding that no rye in a greater degree, which has to be ceremonial to them at the expense of a revived Libyan Sibyl.

Sally the ever so cunning clown
Said to Ratzo the equally cunning Pontiff
Hi Benny, how’s your holy business?
You cannot Benny me without an edict
It goes with the religious territory
Said his haughtily high hatted holiness
An’ there’s no business like gods business
Even to sinners and heretics like you
Ok said Sal you’ve got your edict
What does that make you, Pope?
Is that Ben the edict or Benny the dict
I’m cool with either nomenclature
The latter has more comic possibilities
But the former is beautifully ridiculous
An’ that’s always appealing to a clown
In a purely professional capacity
No, That’s Benedict, one word
And a brace of good looking syllables.

I [ know ] what it’s like.
Indoors with an Outdoor Mind.
Fever blink sparrows in Calligraphy’s
Eponymous Wreck of droll Elan.
Outsized Inside,
As ripples in a quiver
may Be in Two Blazes
At Once.

While Love can be
Nowhere near You
When You
Want.

II

I have stopped singing in the usual way, now more concave and scattershot
With bare-bones clacking rough gibberish to the masses in discreet columns
of deployed madness… Cherub-Stung Pontiff of a Dirigible -
Swinging from an Aether Star
Hooked on hooks and crashing
Into something
Glorious!

I have too often the perks
of cerebral Detente
with my Impossible Oceans.
I Swim .... to soften the scales
of my deep fish
Kabuki

I Never Know
Cool Things.


Until I Burn.

poise zen dystopian rant

This prognosticator doth predict
potential based at current rate
sinister debacle that will
instantaneously annihilate,
United States storied republic,
which alarming horror
points to instantaneous annihilation
of America the beautiful;
(ohm my dog) turbulent
endemic chaotic spate

within human race poised to strike
doom and generate
shock tummy once
amp pull goldenlocks,
now revealing a shiny baldpate
erratic behavior attendant prescient
intimations presage apocalyptic fate
while current commander in chief
didst unwittingly generate,
and sow the seeds of anarchy sparking

global conflagration that will create
instantaneous prime evil
total mortal kombat,
cuz "FAKE" mandate
issued, when Trump went ballistic
loose sing rockets red glare,
when pressing hot button to demonstrate
thermonuclear supremacy,
(albeit a moot point),
would render superfluous need to late

to draft intestate
last (or perchance first, second,
third...) will and testament, tete a tete
perhaps minuscule (nee infinitesimal) bomb
turns out a dud (Amazon, Toys "R" Us
Walmart, or  store
of choice reject) aye narrate
finding Don irate
(blaming "crooked Hillary," democrats,
gumby...yours truly...)

the list goes on, thus no need to iterate,
thus a sudden religious fervor gripped
the wide webbed world
attributing why weapons did not actuate
which found pontiff in high demand
in an attempt to accommodate
frenzied zeal attributing aborted blitzkrieg
to divine intervention with bajillion
talking heads airing where to dedicate
material trappings to indigent, great

full not dead, plus those petty
criminals rightly or wrongly,
the strong arm of
lanced law did incarcerate
bowed down on daily and nightly basis
exploding huzzahs every
human did *******
"not prematurely," where
all walks of life did integrate,
a spontaneous international

utopian revelation awoke
with linkedin diversity to promulgate
protecting the planet took precedence
yea right Matthew Scott - dear mate
only in the context of
this poem I did create
on December twenty third
two thousand eighteen,
and now hemming and hawing
CANNOT wait,

thus conscientious, fractious, and incautious,
members of the electorate
must not shirk their role
as arbiters of life, liberty,
and the pursuit of happiness
obliging themselves obeisance
to the fifteenth amendment
of the United States Constitution,
which prohibits the federal government
and each state from denying

or abridging a citizen's right to vote
"on account of race, color,
or previous condition of servitude,"
when said legal resolution
ratified on February 3, 1870,
as the third and last
of the Reconstruction Amendments
cuz the wise ghost of Abraham Lincoln
did not procrastinate.

to keep it simple
my report today consists of
last night 3 throat strikes and a right cross i take from a kid
just to listen to me, those are my civil rights

next, i got to actually log in to the bureau for a few minutes

my mom told me when i was a little boy, i don't remember exactly what age but that was the job.

im supposed to find the missing people right now, teach life saving skills.....

gonna go vape

so the testas have been following families again, that was the job

now the girl wants to study theatre, she enjoys that much
as for the rest of you guys, the sun leaves rome
it doesnt sneak into ireland, the pontiff will rise again. amen

The 10 days of her weight is called
the heart rate of the sky. Heart depression,
mind, and in order to save the heart,
windmill student plans will be reduced
in the clean and long-term way. The
plot is really wise to control the fire.

They say the Pontiff's influence will grow
with their hands. Lovers of the Lord's
cable along with the people who want
to become slippery, the eyes of the tank,
the eyes of the flowers, the distance
falls in the pit, flowers find all the parts
on foot, and blessed revenue to the opposite
side, and Ashram's attack on the hardness
of the jumper, Yi suddenly disappointed...

His mind is wrong with him &
throws him in a new language.

Jack's black, black, black, cold 1000
consecutive years of fall is the death

of many women, cataclysms,
remember wisdom and death.

Greek for the musician
of the cartoonist is full
of grief beautiful from
the birth of the speaker
and Christ of the coffee

The waves of Marcus Island and Max Max
based in many areas of the Museum; Words
are a mistake, then pleasure is my job; John,
John, was a true warrior, he could smell the
ingredients of New Dawn and, in general,
the flash of fire at the end of a gun barrel;
the United States is in the shadow of death
and what is this Max, Max, Max? And my
mouth, mouth, mouth open, mouth, my mouth
and my face, and sir, I do not know the names
of these feet; to teach and encourage people
to care for them, at this time, it's the same,
we talked About using mystery sounds, in fact,
it is a function that solves the problems of a
pontiff in rapid increase, like With the Holy
Spirit called only the Spirit, in bread and
in some cases in the graduation of night wind
blowing as in Isaiah, the voice of one in freedom?
In recent years,the photos of girls singing music,
such is business; 1 - Go up to her room, and tell
her people what? The services of the DEA
are limited to other flames in the United States?
At the end of the day, with decorative material
and ornaments and more ornaments. § If not,
it's true; That They are competing for a screen
test, and we have a song and therefore,
the Maecenas car built for the land speed record
in Asia is Also Announced With Cicero, Which
becomes a common story in the mountains -
and in the mountains in front of the destruction,
but at the end this is what will happen ...
he did what I did About the Osiris Polio
Statistics, Known only to him and me.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown,
A crown of blood, of love, of frown.
He fights the demons, in and out—
Such is the man who soars with doubt.

Provider, Protector, Pontiff, King—
Each role a weight, a stinging sting.
The price is steep, the path is grim,
It strips the soul and hardens him.

Parallel lives now blur the norm,
Behind calm eyes, a quiet storm.
Smiles conceal the tears they hide —
Each man must pay, with self and pride.

"Be bold," they say. "Be strong. Be brave."
Yet none can see the toll it gave.
The pain, the shame, the silent cries—
That is all that is left when honor lies.

In mirrors cracked by time and years
He sees a face he can not revere.
A man of strength, yet worn and torn,
By battles fought since he was born.

And still he walks, though limbs may shake,
For others’ peace, his own he will break.
A living myth, a silent vow —
But who will crown the weary now?
~Kngblaq