Category: Poems from the book Id Biscuits

Caring Versus Pretending

People will pretend to care,
if you give them something in return.

People get paid to pretend to care.

Who really cares?
Who cares enough to ignore the rules,
when it’s time to break them?

Because sometimes the rules are wrong,
and the dreams are right,
because without the dreamers,
you’d never be moved to fight,
for something better than this chaos,
halfway between darkness and light.

Poems from the book Id Biscuits

Circles

We’ve been dancing circles all night,
trying to forget about the news.

We’ve been standing up again,
singing against a world gone wrong.

The world’s so heavy these days.
Every heart’s just turning blue.

No time to rest—
time to shine your light.

You know that evil’s just bound to lose,
if goodness is the path you choose.

Ride the merry go round of history,
and find the way to peace and truth.

Poems from the book Id Biscuits

Carts

While you’re busy lusting over a cart
crammed full of credit card acquired
cheap Chinese crap and mass produced art,

created by corporate slaves,
working for less money than they can save,

there is a man who wanders the streets with a cart
full of everything he’s got left in this world.

Some people can feast for a thousand years,
while other’s only dinner is the salt of their own tears.

It ain’t about giving up every little thing you’ve got,
so that everyone who has is like everyone who has not,

but we’re racing to the future, and there’s some values we forgot,
like caring and sharing with those who society ain’t got.

If you really think about it we don’t need a whole lot,
but we’re all busy photographing every item we just bought,

as if that’ll fix all the problems in this world mounting high,
while we’re all busy trading pieces of the same pie.

Tell me. What do we really need?

Poems from the book Id Biscuits

Y

Y

Before they named us millennials,
they called us Generation Y.

Now we’re all growing up
and starting to ask all of our elders, “Why?”

If your outrage is much higher in a traffic jam
than when unarmed people die,

or you whine about a building burning
but not the injustice of a murder untried,

or you care more about a flag taken down
than those who in a church lost their lives,

or you feel more upset over a sports loss
than the killing of a toy holding child,

then you must ask yourself
where your priorities truly lie.

Step outside of your selfish
pinhole of apathy
and give compassion a try.

Poems from the book Id Biscuits

Chicken Wire

He was talkin’
about free range chickens,
labeled free,
but still in fences

when we came across
in of all places, Marin,
a sign saying, “Trump 2016,”

nailed high upon
a tall tree
by a large ranch,
enclosed in barbed wire fence,

so I got out,
and started walking.

Two birds flew from my hands
as I strolled past
the sign for the candidate
I wish we’d all dump.

Poems from the book Id Biscuits

How do you Measure your Rulers?

One must be a little subversive
to undermine evil with goodness.

Wage a witty war of words
to right wrongs of words of war.

Speak out against the silence–
the silence of apathetic approval
as hatred boils to the surface
fueled by futile fans of fear,
stunning the sensible souls.

Refuse to submit to the tyranny–
the tyranny of unchecked fear.

Show hatred the doorway out
for freedom and love rule here.

We have two choices this year,
and the choice is pretty clear.

Choose unity and love
over those who peddle fear.

Poems from the book Id Biscuits

Dear Bigots

Tear down that stereotypist
who writes the news rags of your mind,
telling you this way just can’t be,
because it ain’t the way you were designed.

Tell me what age were you when you got
so paranoid that you forgot
this is the land of folks who’re supposed to stay free?

You ain’t got the right to hurt
other people just cause they disagree.

You see, everyone can be anyone,
a little good or little bad,
we all do right or wrong,

and just because we’re all different,
don’t mean we can’t still get along.

You speak your words of thuggery
designed only to tear us apart.

While you deal in high class skullduggery,
I’ve no shield nor defense but my art.

Poems from the book Id Biscuits