- “Socialist,” “public,” and other “nasty” expressions in American
We got a coupla problems here in this State.
Of course we should feed the poor—‘cause that’s great
Christian conduct. But we’re opportunistic.
The word “socialist” bad?—no, we’re just sadistic!
What we don’t get is, capitalistic
Wrongdoing is masochistic.
I’m sick of being right if I see all our sin.
Joe and Kamala, please, come on in!
Half of us Americans, making a living
Paycheck to paycheck—no way we’re giving.
Meanwhile the tax base is shrinking, it’s tiny—
People too ignorant to be too whiny,
Just suffering. Maybe they sort of feel
They can survive, just give ‘em a deal—
Making drugs, selling pills, they’re ahead of the law—
They don’t have much choice, there’s no good jobs at all!
They say, up by our bootstraps is how we must grow.
Alone, ’cept for family—that advantage is no
Privilege—it’s just luck, if you got it you’re good.
If not, you can die, you’d do well if you could!
Any idea of a safety net
For food, for school, for retirement
Is called “socialist” and rejected as wrong.
Yet this situation in Europe goes on—
People pay taxes, get a lot for their team—
Security, learning, inspiration to dream,
While we all—middle class, rich, the whole bunch—
Are psychotic at best, eating the poor for lunch!
So why has “public” become a bad word?
Are libraries, parks, and sidewalks for the birds?
Why great architecture, if not for my
Body, enjoyment, and my colored eye?
Being unique, feeling free in a strip mall?
Where independent ventures can’t trip, ‘cause they’ll fall?
I feel restricted. Oh, expletive!
I need some wild places. I breathe when I live!
Why’re the police breaking our necks?
For an extra bill, we turn into wrecks!
Tell me of bald eagle—now, who he pecks?
2. The United States of America isn’t looking at what other nations are doing!
Oh no, we cannot look to other nations
For how they work things, because inundations
Of good feelings, humanity don’t work here.
Or could it have something to do with fear?
Trump tells me things will be greater—they are
Already! He says so! Like Reagan, so far.
And I like being white, it’s easy to relax,
He says we are good, he likes to cut tax,
I don’t think I want to do things any better;
Too lazy to write the paper a letter.
So, changes? What if my dear neighbor sees
That I’m not so good—let me hide myself, please!
I feel that I’m finer, this thought is profound:
My ears are both closed and I can’t hear the sound
Of my pennies going to abuse the stuck poor,
The luckless—those folks who can’t find the door.
No, they must be weak and deserving of bad
Like aliens, Martians, I’m not like them a tad—
I’m superior to the ones down the hall
(Though if I can stand up, without friends, I’ll fall!).
So stop me from reaching you, save me! My fate’s
To continue the hushup, forget it, the gates
Are closed and this way it will stay, for us all:
I’m scared American—so very small.
3. How might we nurture our people?
My backyard is also yours.
It’s the ocean, sea that pours
Around our nation, closing us in.
The world is round; we share the din.
Who are the folks we’d like to meet,
Or should want to, to keep the beat?
Why hesitate? Can they teach us?
Help us, in hiding—can they reach us?
We’re members here of a society
And we have a card, we belong, we’re free.
It’s tough to rock around and be kind;
But when you do that, you help your own mind!
What are the tools of our trade—
Of stopping evil being made
By fear, distraction, and confusion,
Hurt we live with in profusion?
And how to define sanity? you may query.
I say to question of the ones who are weary,
Who see there is malaise, who feel our State
Is floundering, stuck in the mud of too late,
Of not there on time to see workers empowered
And having a chance to themselves build a tower,
For making a living’s not necessarily
Putting in millions—this I can see.
Let me tell you, my dad, and my mother, too,
Stand straight for this country—even when it’s a zoo.
We love America, have been rich and poor.
I suggest that our wise planners build in a door
For those of us with a spiritual bent,
Who believe in freedom, whose hearts are spent
In caring for others, in remaining human
Despite plots so bland they could never be true, and
The many voices stilled by lack of curiosity,
Folks dead inside who don’t do generosity.
I speak for the common man, also the wealthy,
The ones with perspective, who want to be healthy,
The folks who are sexy, have a love of humor—
My friends, who all agree that that Lump is a tumor,
We virtuous ones, who are also quite humble,
Who’ve been able to maintain that trait in this jungle,
Us mentally illin,’ who don’t know we are weaker,
And others, supportive of Mrs. Speaker.
Anthropology student, woman, artist, here,
Writer, too, I am these days. I fear
That we’re in a society that’s rather mean—
Unloving to children, and rude to the teen—
Bitchy to workers, parents are slavin’—
More than one job, to the Mayor wavin.’
“Keep me busy,” says my suffering friend, Ray.
“I need friendship and I want it today.”
England’s Minister of Loneliness might
Go beyond. Should it be Ray’s right
To have counsel, even some human contact?
‘Cause we live in a group, that’s just true—it’s a fact.
Certain things needed could be available—
Not a bad idea—I think that wall’s scalable!
Justice will triumph—I’ve seen it in me.
I changed and got better, in my mind, you see:
Let matchmakers, therapists try to solve fears;
I’ve been in treatment for quite a few years!
On a worldly scale, there’s the United Nations,
With their Bill of Rights and compassion creation.
And persons who we might pair off with, to live—
I finally found one; we have fun with a sieve—
We stay home and cook, in the kitchen we bake
Potatoes and such, then we walk by the Lake.
You listeners, I hope you take my example:
Give kisses, go ahead, enjoy a free sample!
4. Well, solutions are out there, people!
You hurt my feelings, US of A.
Saying I’m not alright if I’m gay,
Or feminine or black or broke,
When, my friend, you gonna get woke?
For all our faults, this nation of ours
May not always be here, there may be no cars
In the future. It’d behoove us to open our eyes;
Some day, there might be a fabulous prize
For living together with folks from around
The planet, for singing, for making some sound
With diverse peoples, who might know solutions
For our faults, our so American pollutions.
You hurt my feelings, US of A.
Building on top of docking my pay,
Enlisting arrest when we decide to speak—
How long, my friend, you gonna stay weak?
The good news is that our minorities
Who live in this nation, don’t deserve the tease
They get—often these folks, and you and me,
Are cool—like, some say “Yo soy” or “I be.”
They give us perspective, they show us who’s who
They’re like detectives in their know and their new
And we’re like them, we need them, it’s great that we’re in
A place that welcomes all. One nation we’ve been!
You hurt my feelings, US of A.
Saying I’m not alright if I’m gay,
Or feminine or black or broke,
When, my friend, you gonna get woke?
5. We could make life a lot easier for a lot of people!
In some other countries the folks are allowed
To do small capitalism, and proud
Of their fruit stand they are. And why don’t we
Give some small housing? Austin, Portland—see?!?
One might just heal when they come to possess
Their own door knob, and even to feel blessed
To live in a space where they can just cry
Or take a nap, in privacy. Sound good? Let’s try!
‘Cause people are touching, and people need warming.
They want to run inside when the bugs are swarming.
We all have toes which belong to our feet—
Directing us whither we tread, who we greet.
Do we feel we don’t need manners with our neighbors?
Friends, enemies—for all folks—we must labor
For shared results, progress, two folks on the see-saw—
Neglecting each other, can’t get high, it’s a law
Of nature. (Good deeds make us happy together!
Gifts, sharing, good-natured acting—whatever.)
Enjoy being ourself as we impact another,
And they’re holding us, like a sister or brother.
Family and friends—we do need ‘em.
See all the nations who know they must feed ‘em?
Not leave fellows to rot while leaders drink up,
But help people be strong, all join with a cup!
6. Prevention
Is prevention a concept no one understands?
Do I have to wear a sign that says, “I’m a man?”
Spending of taxes, tens of thousands per year
To keep one guy jailed ain’t the worst, I fear.
“We’ll put them away for a year and a day.”
Lotta good that does now—they killed my man, ow! Hey!
I would much prefer if the killers got assistance
Before they grabbed guns, expressed their angst at a distance.
Prevention is justice, not “right punishment”!
We don’t need more cameras, we need to circumvent
The violence running the streets of our towns
The poverty of half our folks—why keep ‘em down?
7. Guns can’t help me feel more secure.
Of course guns don’t kill folks, people do—
Yet gun-slinging brings responsibility too
Bad people are not right enough for guns
But are qualified shooters? No. It’s not done:
We humans cannot muster the responsibility
To always use guns wisely. The ability
Gets fuzzy when emotions are awakened—
The technology itself engenders care not to be taken!
There’s a lot of youngsters out for some life.
Having weapons around, they see, causes strife.
They are interested in the future—is that lame?
Who are the folks that should be feeling shame?
When “with child” happens in a tube
When no use can be found for lube
Then tell me I’m no animal
Who needs warmth, whose rhythms pull
Me through my life, in winter rain,
Me feeling joy, me feeling pain,
‘Cause I am one with human needs
I cry to you in voice that pleads
That here I sniff and air goes in
And there are you, and here we been
We’re touching now in simple skin
I say your name—you let me in.
8. Maximim wage
What would equalize our poor and our wealthy
Is a maximum wage, it would make us more healthy!
No more starving ‘Mericans, it would include
Other income, too, so as not to be rude.
There are rich folks here, but, too, many poor,
And the middle class is now shrinking some more.
I’m sorry, I forgot why homelessness is sane—
Look around, poor people can’t be to blame,
With such bad supporting, from first grade to twelfth,
In prison we’ve cut training, dumb for ourself.
How ‘bout a retirement wage for the old?
Many folks labored hard, but there’s no
Help for the needy, who’d work if they could—
Walking the edge, a better life should
They take part in, instead of ending up ill,
Costing the State much more than it will
Pay for some kindness—it’s virtue’s now nil!
Exactly what do the rich do with their money?
If their neighbors were fine, it could be really funny—
They could get creative, but the way it it shakes up,
It’s not just the blind man who begs with a cup!
Less people in desperate conditions—why not?
A larger tax base would sure help us a lot!
I say “us” ‘cause we’re Illin,’ and should make some noise
To make sure that a little kid has food and toys,
Is learning to read while his sister is studying,
Grandfather’s tutoring, not sort of muddying
His brain—he’s been active, works even today.
Far away from the doctor’s where this family stays.
Mom is contributing to her society.
Dad has enough meal to feel relaxed, quietly
Shares his new ideas in an email or two
Pet dove says, from his kitchen perch, “coo.”
Peace is what? Another bad word in this day?
Really? I don’t quite see it that way.
Although it would be maybe scary to know
The thoughts of these poor folks, I think we should go
Towards permanent healing, not fast-food life—
The good things are there, ‘cause our people are rife
With talent! It would be wise for some folks
To write some comedy, not hide from some jokes
And the humming, the songs of their brothers and sisters,
Intimacy with the moms and their misters
Who vote. It’s not just for the fans of the famous,
It’s for the fans of freedom to play, and not shame us!