How thick his curtain and drawn too tight!

The Philistine not only ignores all conditions of life which are not his own but also demands that the rest of mankind should fashion its mode of existence after his own.” – Goethe.

Straight faced the Philistine advises:
“Won’t stick my neck in guillotine!”
Instead he declares, no surprises:
“Like my butt in a limousine!”

No use for intrigues Byzantine
or time for Sistine Chapel
(or the fifteen or seventeen)
Prefers fries to an apple

As always by strong insistence
he brooks no interference
Perplexing perverse persistence
in painful perseverance

He’s always certain
though rarely right
How thick his curtain
and drawn too tight!

The First Couple of Empire

Written in 2015

First couple of Empire
so tall, fit and lean
leading us in quagmire
smiling, waiving, preen.

While both o so chichi
ain’t he a bit preachy?

Should’ve minded caveat emptor
of “Change You Can Believe In”!
stuck with “Hope and Change” Emperor
who proves ever deceiving.

Misses no chance to endorse
while he’s killing by drone
‘The World’s Finest Fighting Force’.
Predecessors’ true clone.

“We left Iraq”, says he, “Heads held high!”
How (aghast!) can that be, why?
When million people had to die
still nothing sensed gone awry?!

+)
-chichi = showily or affectedly elegant or trendy
-‘heads held high’ = “The last American soldier will cross the border out
of Iraq with their head held high, proud of their success and knowing
that the American people stand united in our support for our troops”
– Obama, Oct 2011

From (not by) Reality deserted

Twisted like acrobatic acts
to engineer outcomes perverted
opinions offered up as facts
then glibly, haughtily asserted

On recklessness binged
in forward pose
pours on claims unhinged
anything goes!

These days seem veracity
as well as morality
eclipsed by mendacity
in foam bath banality

In times erstwhile weren’t we restrained
by facts as being impregnable?
Perhaps too old to be retrained
for when few norms are detectable

Now floating away dazzled
from Reality’s shores
we’re too creaky & frazzled
to keep pulling the oars

Thus on waves of distraction we’re drifting
when did we last do something uplifting?

+)
facts = “Factual evidence, since it is an impediment to what we desire, is banished” – Chris Hedges

edited 08/15/24 1730

If wrung drained, filled with misgiving

Day dawns in anticipation
morning opens up ‘wide screen’
There’s fleeting exhilaration
as off to work we careen

But soon fades the day in routine
stuck on the corporate track
where indignity and caffeine
afford little joy or slack

If at the day’s end we’re found drained, filled with misgiving
shall we still be counted among the truly living?

Lacked restraint, unfazed by complaint

Lacked libationary restraint
until his dignity drained
Unfazed by concern & complaint
too tightly to habit chained

Used to drain bottles full throttle
when was that kind of fellow
Now fills a hot water bottle
since he turned cold & mellow

So there, we can now credibly debunk
that the bottle per se gets us drunk

Finding small talk fulfilling

What’s our pleasant ‘small talk’
but schlock while lolling?
Keeps humming, spiked by squawk
boorish & galling!

Seldom turns elevating
those leisurely oozings
of whiny ventilating
self-victimized musings

Mostly regurgitating
that not much worth saying
How tiresome, aggravating
much like brainless braying!

Small talk like cloying pies
whose flavor fading hasty
Expectations belies
beyond sugar, flour pasty

Inside hooey crumbly crust
gooey, gluey filling
for which lips & taste buds lust
rarely found fulfilling

Is not small talk a pie
over which we should cry ?

Compunction’s millstone

Am craving solitude
Platitude detracts
as likewise certitude
when flimsy one’s facts

While I try allay
compunction’s millstone:
“Don’t linger, go away
leave me to bemoan!”

Am trying to atone
for my turpitude
trying scrounge some backbone
but lack rectitude

Leaves me fending off despair full-blown
by keeping my nose to the grindstone