A Poem for the zeroes

See the old man on the park bench
With newspaper underwear
Against the cold
Who cares old man
Who cares
See the guy
Home from war
Staring blankly,
Red rimmed tortured eyes
Pigeons
At his feet
One shod with skin
The other steel
Who cares

One less soul

Ruh Roh

We battle the forces of the lizard brains, you see them every day. They tattoo their empty souls on the world. You can feel their little probes tickling your amygdala until you can hardly see what really is. They entertain you with pretty colors and empty words blinding you to what you really are and what is possible. They crush your spirit, steal your soul, still the music that you are made of. Don't be afraid, don't fear, you are safe in the arms of the cosmic dreamer. He laughs at these little things knowing their aspect as just another road one could choose. We don't need a book or many books or a universe of printed words. We don't need anything to gain the secret
beauty, it is an inside job.

Frank 's Got The Right Idea

DUMB ALL OVER

Whoever we are
Wherever we're from
We shoulda noticed by now
Our behavior is dumb
And if our chances
Expect to improve
It's gonna take a lot more
Than tryin' to remove
The other race
Or the other whatever
From the face
Of the planet altogether

They call it THE EARTH
Which is a dumb kinda name
But they named it right
'Cause we behave the same . . .
We are dumb all over
Dumb all over,
Yes we are
Dumb all over,
Near 'n far
Dumb all over,
Black 'n white
People, we is not wrapped tight

Nurds on the left
Nurds on the right
Religious fanatics
On the air every night
Sayin' the Bible
Tells the story
'N makes the details
Sound real gory
'Bout what to do
If the geeks over there
Don't believe in the book
We got over here

You can't run a race
Without no feet
'N pretty soon
There won't be no street
For dummies to jog on
Or doggies to dog on
Religious fanatics
Can make it be all gone
(I mean it won't blow up
'N disappear
It'll just look ugly
For a thousand years . . . )

You can't run a country
By a book of religion
Not by a heap
Or a lump or a smidgeon
Of foolish rules
Of ancient date
Designed to make
You all feel great
While you fold, spindle
And mutilate
Those unbelievers
From a neighboring state

TO ARMS! TO ARMS!
Hooray! That's great
Two legs ain't bad
Unless there's a crate
They ship the parts
To mama in
For souvenirs: two ears (Get Down!)
Not his, not hers (but what the hey?)
The Good Book says:
"It's gotta be that way!"
But their book says:
"REVENGE THE CRUSADES . . .
With whips 'n chains
'N hand grenades . . . "
TWO ARMS? TWO ARMS?
Have another and another
Our God says:
"There ain't no other!"
Our God says
"It's all okay!"
Our God says
"This is the way!"

It says in the book:
"Burn 'n destroy . . .
Repent, 'n redeem
'N revenge, 'n deploy
'N rumble thee forth
To the land of the unbelieving scum on the other side
'Cause they don't go for what's in the book
'N that makes 'em BAD
So verily we must choppeth them up
Or stompeth them down
Or rent a nice French bomb
To poof them out of existance
While leaving their real estate just where we need it
To use again
For temples in which to praise
OUR GOD
("Cause he can really take care of business!")

And when his humble TV servant
With white hair
And a brown suit
And maybe a blonde wife who takes phone calls
Tells us it is okay to do this stuff
Then we're supposed to do it,
'Cause if we don't do it,
We ain't gwine up to hebbin!
(Depending on which book you're using at the time . . . Can't use theirs . . . . . . it's all lies . . . Gotta use mine . . . )
Ain't that right?
That's what they say
Every night . . .
Every day . . .
Listen, we can't really be dumb
If we're just following God's Orders
After all, he wrote this book here
An' in the book it says:
"He made us all to be just like Him," so . . .
If we're dumb . . .
Then God is dumb . . .
(An' maybe even a little bit ugly on the side)

DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE
DUMB ALL OVER
A LITTLE UGLY ON THE SIDE

fz-

Pesky Fish and His UBA (Underwater Breathing Apparatus)

In Response to Depok-Magical Thinking

They Are Missed

PlanetZappa.com


Wie you littul
Why you little
Hoo nan pai yao

RIP Dimebag and Mayhem

My homemade slider

This fretless puppydog screams

Wanted Cookie Snatcher

I told him to keep his mits
out of the cookie jar.
Jeez, can't a guy catch a break?











What!

Moderne Jonay

The art of a budding Picasso 8 years old-my buddy. There is still beauty in the world

Lobsters

Did you ever pass the tank with the lobsters floating about in those markets serving the effluent and secretly want to set them free-just a thought

Lyrics a Temp

Trying to write a song this is all I got ..for now

It was asphalt bakin' motherfuckin' hot.

Nothing else is coming thru the
universal collective conscience.
It has been null and void of late
blocked with word shit
foisted upon me 'til I choke and vomit
All I can think of is
Fuck you very much
each and every soul dead
turd who says what 's good for me is
good for you.
Fuck you very much

santa

Felize Navidad
May all your wishes come true
Santa is on his way
sailing
thru
Crystal lit
Black night
headphones askew Singing and dancing
A quivering dandy
Getting a head full of
Aural candy

Regards,
Burnie

Another what the f...moment

Intelligence and wisdom
extinct
Led by howling idiots
Into the maw
Too horrible to name
A nightmare of our own
creation

Fools Reward

Charon at your service sir
The ship is fast, on course
Cold wind on full sail
Spinnaker a half moon of soiled beauty
Its gunnels a stink of rot
Sail on, the river of death
Eternal

B

my two cents

To all those who would send others to die for their own obscenities


People, soulless
Drab dust
sycophants of power
Wreckers, warts
As you rot in
Your own machinations
Your Karma inescapable
the skewer glints
fuckwits
Your passing will
be duly noted

Eric, Requiem for a friend

My daughter China called me last night, crying, to tell me that her/our cat, Eric had been hit by a car. He was found on the street, cold and soft. I don't think, or choose to think he suffered or he would have tried to move. As I write, I am filled with a sadness so visceral it hurts to the bone. In my sadness I choose to smile.
Eric had a sister named Phoebe who has a mind slightly askew, you can find her daily, four furry paws clutching the screen midway between the floor and doorjamb meowing over who knows what.
When they were kittens they wreaked havoc, we had no plants left, they knocked chairs over, broke glasses. It was a nightly battle, I would wake up to the mellifluous sounds of plants, glasses, pictures being flung with abandon all over the place. What fun they had, I threatened them daily, inquiring as to whether they wanted to live to see their next meal. As you well know, none of this threatening availed any results, they blissfully continued to be a two cat demolition team. I would yell at them, yes, I lost my temper, and they would give me the look, you know, like the thousand yard stare you get when you tell the police officer, who has just pulled you over for speeding, the many reasons why you should not get a ticket, you were late for your appointment at the local barbershop, this was your bithday, your mothers birthday, your grandmothers birthday, you were pregnant, or rather your wife was-sorry officer I didn't mean to imply that I was about to do what no man has done before.
Eric turned into this wonderful, affectionate, feline bundle of joy and tranquillity. He would curl in your arms and sleep there all night, lie beside you as you read or sleep at your feet. He would grab little rocks, pebbles really, and fling them over his head go chase them and do it again.
A cat can't speak, reason, do math or hold a job but they definitley can communicate, especially if they want something. Eric liked cereal, icecream and catnip. You might say he was an icecreamaholic, especially after rolling in catnip.
He was beautiful when he ran, a black streak across the lawn, now he runs among the stars.
Cats, like us,have a spirit and Eric, I hold your spirit in my heart.
Burnie

My best buddy Jonah