Oh,
how
tragically
sad
it was
to look
at
the
local news
that day;
with my
coffee mug
in hand
after a
lovely night
with a
good book,
and then
I learned
that
a wooden cross
was burnt
up
at a park
before
my people
on our
shared
glorious
urban
city streets,
while uprooted
trees
and debris
fought
harshly
in the wind.
(“Utopia and Terror Merit Badge”, 2010, original oil)
The wave of Democrat Socialism
Sweeping America today
Is no different than China’s Cultural Revolution
The DSA want to abolish (not reform)
Police, prisons, borders, the Senate,
The presidency, and Supreme Court
Because they are all remnants of an old order.
So just like the Red Guard youth
They seek to destroy “The Four Olds”
To usher in a New Wave of chaos
A tsunami of Hope and Change
To make way for the shining Utopia
That will of course naturally arise.
It didn’t work in China,
But that’s just because they didn’t do it right…
Get ready America,
Here comes some righteous change.
Don’t hold your breath, just hunker down,
Pull your family close
And keep your powder dry.
(8/8/26)
The Scrub Jays
Deserve All Their
Dominance Too!
Clever And Wise!
Pecking All The
Gray Squirrel's
In The Head...
"Our Horde Is Sound!"
*******
PECKPECKPECKPECKPECK!
-Gray Squirrel
05-04-2026
When the cries of a baby come
Women dance to beating drum
Welcoming the child with smiles
Bringing powders in their styles
When the black baby smiles
He lights the way like fireflies
And leaves man grinning till he's blue
Holding his hand in his view
When the black baby grows
He brings joy wherever he goes
Playing games of hide and seek
Taking man’s name to the peak
When black baby becomes a man
He finds his way and brings forth Obian
Another black baby he bestows
Giving man all that glows
I left my heart in Melbourne
A rift in time and space
Before becoming airborne
To go back to my place
I left my heart in Melbourne
In blueness of her eyes
In every club and tavern
In which we spent our times,
In parks, in zoos, in forests
In places where we roamed,
But more important further
I left it in her home:
I left my heart in Melbourne
Inside her warm embrace
As though inside a cabin
Containing all of space
Where sweetness flowed like river
And gentleness like snow
Fell on us, and we shivered,
As her gifts Life bestowed:
I left my heart in Melbourne
And I returned, half-me
And half-impassioned maven
Of the Eternity:
Which we had found together
And by it were transformed -
Two spirits, of one feather,
In sunshine and in storm
Desiring to make heaven
And in its light to burn:
I left my heart in Melbourne;
To Melbourne I'll return.
If you are going to wear this hanbok
you must honor its silent rules.
Yes, they are particular and precise
but this is our lineage, our breath.
The jeogori must sit just so across the chest
Your left side should fold over the right—
never the reverse, for that is for the deceased.
Your sleeves must bloom like morning flowers,
the chima skirt should bell outward
a perfect circle when you twirl.
Your hair cannot be loose and wild,
it must be gathered in a neat bun
adorned with binyeo pins that catch the light,
not your light.
Each ivory tower needs so much power and water
Society is the fall guy for the pie in the sky AI lie
Cultures savaged ravaged caricatures by vultures
Slyly trying to deflower mother nature’s daughter
Dodgy dealing resources stealing planet’s reeling
Preach each data centre like a cultural placenta
Layers peeling players say mentor no glass ceiling
Am a lamenter of break neck tech wreck dementor
No healing waste from haste paste without feeling
We’ve heard it before the computer is our future
Smoke and mirrors AI on the fly the latest suitor
Us all just a data commuter for a leech not tutor
Beseech purloining then coining no way to teach
The conceit of the deceit is an elite cheat ripsnorter
Train bots brain rots turns us into tots & lots of have nots
Only glower of people power can stop the slaughter
The streets are full of madmen
The bedrooms they are too
After hours of internet p..n
What do you expect? What do…
The kids carry guns
Challenge their arrogance
And they’ll kill you too
The madhouses have been emptied
No funds to house the insane
Waiting lines are crawling all over the city
Snaking in tangled descent into Hell’s reign
The cemeteries are ready to open their tombs
The dead will come to meet the mad
In a sanguine ceremony of riot and wounds
I see the coffins open
I see straight jackets flying like sails
Over dark rivers of blood
Splashing out in the tempest gales
I speak to myself “Put on the amour of God’s holiness
Stand against the schemes of Hell
Against the schemes of authority’s unwinding deceitful spell”
Shipwrecks are following from fraudulent choices
One upon another, upon another
Crashing against the rocks of eternity
Amidst the exploding noise of drunken whores' voices
All are drowning in self- made poison
Flowing for centuries from sick societal breasts
Sinking with hearts of stone into a deadly bottomlessness
I
The forest of generations
Each tree with a tale to tell
Upon the rings of their foundations
Where each history dwells
Tress of new and trees of old
Wear leaves like feathers
To display their colors in bold
A culture’s greatest treasures
Peaceful lives preserved
Fallen seeds writing new histories
Until the process was disturbed
By unexpected naval deliveries
A new species brought aboard
And spread among the trees
Where years’ traditions are stored
We’ll replace them with these:
That eat away at the leaves
Like a caterpillar without a cycle
These cultural thieves
Stole with greed on their arrival
Although some free of evil
Just a species displaced
A threat to the people
When their local culture’s defaced
As they die away
Their colors become one
A global shift underway
Their histories undone
For every leaf that falls
A culture’s dead and gone
Hearing the distant calls
As we approach the dawn…
Find a cool place with tolerant people
Move right in, enjoy (or rather exploit)
Their kindness and abundance
Get firmly planted, reproduce
Bring your families over too
And the very cultures and oppressive systems
You supposedly were fleeing
Until suddenly before they know it
You have become intractable
A social and political force
Of chaos.
(11/6/25)
embrace unity
what society expects
sells out life's purpose
The Left and Right today
Are like East and West,
Different worlds that never shall meet,
Or if they do meet
Won’t hear or understand much
Of the other anyway.
Each is in a bubble,
Comfortable and secure.
The difference is,
And it’s a difference that makes all the difference,
One bubble is based in LaLa Land
While the other is at least grounded in truth,
As dirty and ugly as that sometimes can be,
Yet a truth that can at least call a spade a spade,
And not have to nervously glance over its shoulder
To see if someone thinks that’s somehow racist.
Shovels matter after all
In fact where would our civilization be
Without them?
And yet in our world today
Only half of us are needed,
And it’s always, never
The other half.
(8/16/25)
japanese folklore
sweet souls of the departed
gentle fireflies
african culture
fireflies are bad luck
such diversity
To Hell with Cultural Appropiation or Cultural Copy.
It is very very wrong and unconscionable unless we are copying uplifting values only.
Copying poor value systems like smoking drugs, ganja or cigarettes, over excessive rum/alcohol drinking or eating, gun running, crime, and even gloryfying submersive gansata rap lyrics are wrong for our children's sake. these are bad examples.
I promote instead bigging up our own local Culture to the fullest.
Cultural Apporiation merely teaches us to homour and repect foreign Culture
While relegating our very own.
Why covet a next man's culture when yours is much better??
I want us to love up our own culture with a passion so high and true
That it reaches out to the very sky.
To strive towards good positive culture should always be our true Covenant.
And so you see Cultopiation to me is more like Cultural Miasappropiation.
SEE also my song on youtube called Gultural Hypocrisy by Lord Cam
In halls where silence speaks louder than words,
I stand, a beacon amidst the unseen.
Their gazes, sharp as unspoken swords,
Pierce through the facade, where I've always been.
Once, my voice resonated with pride,
Now, it's drowned by murmurs and disdain.
Yet, I endure, with dignity as my guide,
In a place where respect is hard to attain.
But within me, a fire continues to burn,
For teaching is more than a mere profession.
It's a calling, a passion that will return,
To a realm where my worth is not in question.
So, I'll rise above the shadows they've cast,
Seeking a future where my spirit is free.
For in the end, it's not about the past,
But the legacy of the teacher I choose to be.
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