Pour me another, me. I am my own barkeep now. Make it a double, Make it strong, Make it again, Make me numb. Make me numb to the house I am about to lose. Make me numb to the job I already lost. Make me numb to the fact I cant afford to get sick.Continue reading “Pour Me Another, Me”
To my new followers I say thank you and welcome! I hope you enjoy my political tirades and hot takes, but mostly I hope you enjoy my poetry. If you enjoy this blog I that ask you to please join my patreon. This blog is totally self run and run out of pocket, and sinceContinue reading “Join My Patreon”
Hello my pen, My long lost friend. I put you in your cup months ago, or was it years? You’re all I have now. These hands have toiled. This heart was broken. These eyes have cried. But still, my pen has ink. The hand that toiled Now wants that toil on the page, The heartContinue reading “Hello My Pen, A Poem About Writers Block”
Only a coward attacks with no face. Only a fool takes the time to make an enemy. Only a coward and a fool would ever throw a tantrum about helping someone else. Cowards and fools running amok, literally leaving plaque and death in their wake. We must do something, something now to deal with theseContinue reading “Only A Coward, A poem”
Too poor to write? Too dumb to be important. That is what you say when you scoff at the literate, When you make “beautiful” synonymous with “bougie” Literature and Revolution, name one that never had the other. Yes, the old guard is no longer revolutionary, but you still have much too learn if you replaceContinue reading “Insulting, a poem”
There is no going back, Our heroes are dead. We are our own heroes now. There is no going back. – There is no going back, The tides are swallowing us, A virus is choking us, Our “leaders” are killing us. There is no going back. – There is no going back, You can’t getContinue reading “There is No Going Back, a poem in the time of Covid”
Why I am going to write as much poetry as I will about politics.
Official Post from The Professional Protester : Your house is my home, Mr. and Mrs. Landlord.You have the deed,but I have the memories.It might be your property, but it is my life.The living room that you want to sell,That is where I saw our children play,Where I did puzzles with grandma,Where my siblings and I playedContinue reading “Your House, My Home (A poem about eviction) | The Professional Protester on Patreon”
Why do we take the joker out of the deck? The comedian knows more than the journalist, and the Jester was the king’s adviser. It is easy to keep your distance if we laugh at the messenger instead of killing them. Why do we take the joker out of the deck? Does the dealer fearContinue reading “Why Do We Take The Joker Out of The Deck? (Poem)”
What is a writer to do when he wants to write everything!?
A poem in the time of pandemic.
More goes on behind closed doors Than you shall ever know. Yes, corruption and malfeasance But that is not what I mean. Behind closed doors, An abused partner cries. Behind closed doors A child’s dream is denied, Because Mommy got fired. Behind closed doors A young man cleans up his Grandmother’s urine Just like sheContinue reading “Behind Closed Doors, A Poem”
Hundreds of lives a year, No rest for the wicked they say. But what is so wicked about selling something to feed a baby? When you have nothing to sell but flesh or a high, Is that really your fault? Hundreds of lives a year, Thousands rotting in the cold Or drowning in the rain.Continue reading “Hundreds of lives a year”