Last Full Measure

Dare not betray dear native soil/ Nor diminish their sacred toil/ Though the tension starts to roil/ Hostility remains on slow boil/ With fools declaring, "No blood for oil"/ Stand strong amongst the brave/ Though this may lead to the grave/ This is how patriots behave/ Those who would not be a slave/ The sacrifice they gladly gave/ For liberty that they save

I Am Darfur

In sweltering Sub-Saharan heat/ Without the tiniest morsel for me to eat/ As the dictator in Khartoum/ Plots for my family and me doom/ My sisters ravaged and my brothers in their tomb/ With more janjaweed coming/ Will they be here soon?

Who Has Power

A tribute to my Kentucky neighbors, now on their knees in supplication midst the fallen trees. The magneto is spinning as I cogitate/ With a furrow on my brow/ As the dynamo sends power, across the wires here and now/ I spy the broken power pole and what is there a-scratchin' but a liberated cow/ I'm glad my light bulb is buzzing as blue grass hides under the white/ I'm thankful I'm not there freezing in the wee hours of the night

Our Natural Rights

They dismiss both Holy Ordinance and natural law/ Striving to take over, like nothing you ever saw/ The ill-fame growing till it bursts the heart of man/ And their Red rejoinder is the mindless mantra "Yes we can"/ So some few patriots that remain/ Will strive to fight this spreading stain/ And build the bastion and prepare to take a stand/ As the murderous Marxist ideology creeps forth across the land/ Only cowards and Communists can be quiet at this time/ As Obama and his minions plot their monstrous crime/ You may deprive us of our freedoms and steal our very lives/ But like a phoenix rising, free men are sharpening their knives/ You may take our rifles/ But we will craft a bow/ The fuse of liberty will burn long and slow/ One evening when the tyrant rests/ We'll strike the mighty blow/ And those who robbed our God-given rights/ Will have no place left to go.

Ba'al's Bloody Butchers

The foemen came but once/ Nigh on eight years/ Trying to kindle all our fears/ Soiling September with treachery/ Trying to bring down this land of the free/ The Jihadist considers himself brave/ But the wretched throat-cutter is a knave/ Our ancient sages sheathed the sword/ Preferring to follow the word of the Lord/ Then Mohammad arose with fury and fire/ With world domination as Islam's desire/ Cloaked in whole cloth of righteousness/ Slaying even those with petty differences/ They believe seventy and two virgins do await/ But I presume a grimmer fate/ "Allahu Akbar" won't cleanse their crimes/ We must dispatch this menace that haunts our times/ We can leave the millstone and the plow/ To turn back Islamo-fascism here and now/ They've done murder in stain and sin/ But our faith and goodness will prevail-we will win.

The World Stage

They shudder as the Muslims rage/ Apologists, appeasers, cowards/ They silence themselves/ Cloaked in stealth/ You would not want to end up like Theo van Gogh, would you?/ Craven, crouching, tomorrow's slaves/ Will their timidness spare them from their graves?/ The ostrich is flightless/ Too many are sightless/ With their million idols and god is a tree/ Not one of them would die to be free/ After Pearl Harbor, they lined up like lemmings, unafraid of giving their all/ Because they knew there was heaven/ Now they worship at the altar of money/ Though their lucre has fled them-I find this funny

Wail Freedom's Passing

The lovers of liberty lie row on row/ Their blood the axle grease of liberty/ They stand silent sentinel across the Potomac plain/ They willingly paid the price/ The ultimate sacrifice/ To earn what we are about to give away/ Do not squander their precious gift/ Soil the flag they died to lift/ Remember we are more than a body of land/ No measure of devotion is too grand/ The time has come to take a stand

The General Welfare

The wave of conservatism crested/ But it's ideas were never bested/ Most of the warriors just walked away/ They abandoned the field of play/ Left the hustings yesterday/ Allowing Marxists to hold sway/ So can we get our nation back,/ Restore the rightward track?/ Yes, if we take another tack/ Stand up, speak up, use our precepts on the attack/ Editorialize, criticize, put truth to their lies/ Do not sit back and watch as liberty dies

Cornucopia of Emptiness

There is a time of plenty, but there is never plenty of time/ This flooded desert yields a treasure trove of deeply held regrets/ A bank vault filled with IOUs and debts/ A king's storehouse of guilt and shame/ Perhaps I should have changed my name/ I know no esoteric arts/ I haven't broken a thousand hearts/ But then I never ran off and left/ Or turned to a little theft/ I always believe I will win the next day/ That's why I pray you stay/ But I guess if you do go away/ I'll still have to go on with the play/ I suppose the show will go on even after both of us are gone/ On the downward slope you can hold on to hope/ Grab for the rope as the avalanche of dreams cascades down/ And you feel you are starting to drown/ Burned to a cinder, turned to ash/ When we have outlived our cash/ All that remains is our trash/ Well, now it's time to dash before our values begin to clash/ Don't leave annoyed, after all we still have this giant void/ Enjoy this wealth of poverty/Bereft of all our property/ Surrounded by this last lament/ Where to go when your last dollar is spent/ The air leaked out of the ball/ I am left to ask, "Did my life just stall?"/ Nobody has seen it all/ But we are in free fall.

The Poet Speaks

I have plenty to say/ But nothing to sell/ I have so many tales to tell/ Of sophistry and sadness/ Of mirth and madness/ Of bread and salt/ But not a recipe/ If anyone cares to hear from me

Babes in Ritaland

They put a chemical straight jacket on the next Buddy Hackett/ And tied him into Don Knotts/ When he most needed hugs/ He was given just enough drugs to warp his growing brain/ The events that should last/ Go by in a blast/ So fast and with such pain/ Slow things up with speed in a cup/ And keep a boy in line/ He's the teachers' and doctor's pride/ Even though he's dying inside/ She could be another Mary Cassatt/ But they've turned her bright colors gray/ The pill pushers stole her creativity away/ This is the bildungsroman of the sedated generation whose imagination was medicated into submission each day.

Callous or Confused

Ecstasy is an altered state/ Intimacy sparks a great debate/ Are we really in love with what we declare to hate/ Or just striving to stave off inevitable fate/ It is verified that we are not in control/ That's why we are terrified to lose the soul/ The one thing certain is we will be late/ The only question is the date

Splinters of Sorrow

Who has not faced lust and loss/ Who has not borne the awful cost/ Who can deconstruct the anatomy of desire/ Who can extinguish the primal fire/ Only a fool would try/ Lonely ever lonely/ Saddened, never knowing why/ Ennui bleakly spoken/ No love there for me/ For I am not Joyce Kilmer/ I can not love a tree

Captives of Darkness

Through the millennium, man sought to raise the heel of the oppressor/ In '76, by blood and fire, the boot was lifted./ In 2008, the foot fell hard to trample the rights of man./ Purchased at a cost so dear/ And relinquished with many a tear./ Look back and remember how sweet the sip of liberty/ Recall the taste of freedom

An American Stalin

There is a tyrant in the weeds/ Claiming he will care for all your needs/ Beware of his plans and deeds/ For he was raised on Marxist seeds

A Campaign Jingle

"Steady Hands at the Helm" : The ship's not sink'in and we ain't bail'in/ 'Cause we can count on McCain and Palin/ They will bring us smoother sail'in/ That maverick pair McCain and Palin!