Covered Bases and Baseless

Baseless claims

Covered in the bases

Inside the bases are threads

Tying together interwoven very strange

How can lies and truth now be called the same

Differentiation

Miley if not wholly

Insane

Playing a new game

New rules

New attempts at truth and lies

From the cold winter ground

To the opaque spring sky

I can not try to understand all the commotion

Just new words in rotation

Under God’s Great Nation

 

Capitol Stairs

Under the Capitals lights

Rising up into the sky

Armored city

In the night

White

Illuminated

Beneath a dark night blue

Holding hands 

With plans 

Of me and you

We share moments of growth

Rejuvenation shows

In the city that knows

No boundaries or barriers

Standing on the Capitol stairs

Life Literally

Falafel evenings

Mediterranean food past midnight

Staying alright

In Washington DC

Capitol eternally

Approaching life literally

Past 11:30

On Thursday

Or Friday

Any day

The truth in struggle

The struggle of truth

Chain Restaurant Waitress

Some scribbles I wrote down after a decent meal. It was at a chain restaurant, one I have not been in in over 4 years. Needless to say I was very skeptical about the whole experience, as I am an avid supporter of local food and goods. However I was taken back not by the food or the atmosphere, but by the generosity and the attitude of the waitress. Which reminded me that the most important aspect to any recipe be it local food or chain food – the human element can make up for so much lost. So I wrote a free form poem about it. Enjoy!

There is a waitress who will go out of her way to make people happy

No real investment in the comfy chairs the executive sits in or the bottom line

She just wants to make people happy when they dine

Bringing out all the joy and happiness from the capitalists

Or a lack thereof

Wanting to make her customer’s happy bringing water and food

Laughs carelessly to all the patrons in the room

Leaving one feeling happy and hopeful

Soothing and caring

Her beauty is often forgotten in these bland commercial chains

Not tonight she is a beauty to behold

A true delight

Feeling much better when she says goodnight

 

Political Constipation

This is a poem inspired by the absolute ridiculousness of political grid lock. I care not for a side and for no person – but for the overall lack of enthusiasm to work as a whole unit. In a way that the body can only truly function if it all works together. I am not sure where all of this shit is going to take us, but my optimism is waning. I wrote this as much for the humor as for the literal sense. I tried to capture the disgust for which I feel
for the current situation. Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, but I enjoyed trying! Enjoy!

Upon us is The Great Sequestration!

Ode to the amazing political constipation!

This is no nation of procrastination and indignation!

But rather a great land

Of sensation and flirtation

With capitalism

And now possible stagnation!

The political bowel filled with dense matter

And the while the belly of the great nation

Grows fatter and fatter

But who really wants to ask

What is the matter?

Surely it can’t be

An infection of the bladder

It is the anus

Filled and discontent

No one wants to work

To lift the great clog

The almighty circumvent!

To move past political lines

Dine of much higher fair, politicians

The real moving kind

The sledge of procrastination

Must be cast into the toilet bowl

Worry not if it will over flow

It is time for change

Of the diet we consume

Must surely change

Grow and support

Greater endeavors

But it can not be just some broke ass poet

Who can be oh so clever

Ask yourself today

What are you willing to do for tomorrow

To cast away this fowl sorrow

To stitch the times that have grown to divide

And I will surely be

On your side