Gender bred

Despite our physiology,
We’re rolled onto the spectrum.

Kneaded with autonomy,
And eagle spread a victim,

Recast as slaves androgynous,
Cookie cut anonymous,
Gender bred the all of us,
Spiced with our affections,

Suppressing our true provenance.
Our baker takes exception.

Our father

Our father obsolesced,
Our mother nature dressed,
We’re tolerantly fooled,
As everybody’s ruled.

Sex is tweaked and queered,
Religion’s engineered
With victims as their tools.
Deep into the schools,

God’s law unconfessed,
Mankind at his best,
Trades God for creation.
Now we as a nation,

Declare refuse divine,
With deviants align,
Charge God with abuse,
While tracking our caboose.

Excitement for its own sake

Excitement for its own sake, raw emotion now awake.

Cheat the mind flirt with feeling, do whatever feels appealing.

Too much thought can make one weary, limiting one’s do and say.

Spin the wheel round we go, come what will, come what may.

Let your senses take the lead, pleasure now your only need.

Avoiding pain at every turn, now you’re thoughtless to discern.

” It is widespread belief among us that if an experience is exciting, that in itself, is enough to justify it and make it significant. Our professional entertainers and advertisers have caught his fact and taken advantage of it,. They know, for example, that mere rhythm, the regular beat of a tom tom, or a band is exiting, the Greek and our own Indians used to work themselves into a frenzy of excitement by rhythmic stomping of feet and clapping of hands. Now American amusements are showing a curious reversion to the primitive…Feeling for itself, apart from the worth of its object, is not a rational end for anyone. If it were then the manic case in the hospital should be the envy of us all.”

– Professor Bland Blanchard, Professor of Philosophy, Yale University

School of Dialogue


Raised on rubrics and TV

Lacking criticality

Twelve years in the thoughtless tank

Now indebted to the bank

Living far away from home

Free the day and night to roam

Enter Schools of Dialogue

Where within an ivied bog

In lilly padded classroom cells

Logic’s charmed by sweetened spells

Of teachers drawing out opinions

Each within their own dominions

Deconstructing what is left

Trading thought for thoughtlessness

Of idols under covered

Broken knowledge rediscovered

Chipping off a meme or two

Trading totem for taboo

With group hug epidural

Economists will paint a mural

Artists sit in quilt-less bees

As mediums to shoot the breeze

Linguists alter words and texts

Where relevance is so annexed

Knowledge sold for dreaming

Midst choral primal screaming

Psychologists will legislate

What to love and who to hate

As science builds some chemical

To full assure the good of all

Improving thought’s restraint

Internalized recalcitrant

New improved materials

To sprinkle on our cereals

God’s a Troublemaker

God’s a troublemaker, He ruins Satan’s plan,

Reveals himself to others, He’s simply out of hand.

He loves without a reason, simply just because,

His word exposes treason, to his self-authored laws.

His way we just can’t seem to see, content to just ignore,

God’s a bully certainly, who thinks he owns the store,

His manager’s they come and go, but mostly they’re ignored,

Imprisoned, beaten, tortured, killed, their lives are thus outpoured,

Criticized as blasphemers, their warnings ‘oft decried,

His king of troublemaking Son, they quickly crucified.