Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the sun doesn't care
about your mood, your aches
and pained expressions
so blame the moon

blame your ex-girlfriends
and mommy and daddy
the unfairness of life
the imbalance of the Law of Averages

that should have made things right for you by now
blame mercury retrograde, bad luck, dumb luck
but never discount just plain D-U-M-B dumb
there has to be an answer for your hateful angst

maybe it's alien sex, of maybe it's demon sex
maybe it's being told to wear a mask, or maybe
it's Obama, I mean everything that ever goes wrong
you can bet Obama caused it

shit, he ain't even an American citizen
Trump on the other hand is God
a perfect being that inspires the nastiest T-shirts
we have our swastika tattoos, and our confederate pajamas

to curl into bed with, and we have Jesus to listen to our prayers
and his illegitimate offspring Donald J Trump
and whatta y'all got....I'll tell you !
you ain't got shit !

I thought the Civil War ended almost 2 centuries ago. Not sure why anyone is still hung up on it. My god that's all these 2-bit divide-and-conquer hucksters and demagogues seem to have left up their sleeve in their weak, nearly-exhausted bag of tricks, just more of the same godam bullshit, Us versus Us.

And yes, the sun is just the sun.

________

The Fake Puppet Master Must be Hung on His Own Strings

The Puppet Master continues to pull the strings
watching the audience looking in disbelief
"How could this be happening to America..?"

The refrain continues at our dinner tables,
our workplace that used to be, the uncles
the aunts and all the neighbors, they know

The Puppet Master will produce yet another
lie out of his bag of chaos and disbelief
How did we get to this? we ask ourselves

Fearful of even that truth floating above like
dark clouds, those Masters of Aerial Flotation
stalking the lands below can reek havoc

At a clap of thunder, a strike of lightning,
is there any hope of a tomorrow to bring
back our sweet yesterdays, all but memories

We see our dreams rapidly disappearing
our needs going unfulfilled where do we go
what has the Puppet Master brought us

BUT the Puppet Master cannot master himself
all a foolish lie that cheated so many,
his appearance a rude reminder of that clown

That painted face that hid the Truth he fears,
he'll stumble and we will see the true buffoon
and exhale our stress, our fears, our disbeliefs

The rainbow will cast its colorful arch across the skies
and once again we can rebuild a new life, better life
the one we imagined for Oh so many years...

So many years.... so many years... they come and they go
like life itself, it IS life itself that really pulls the strings
tuned to a beautiful harmony that brings alive dreams.


_____*_____
Cecil B. Lee


Welcome back, Steve Weaver, and your touch to inspire the poet in so many. Grazie, amigo