Long Deaf and dumb Poems
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There's a symbol for our justice,
Holding scales while she is blind.
Yet it seems the 'MAGAteers' have extended
This further, adding deaf and dumb to their mind.
Because they have made the choice not to
See, hear, or think, as they ignore reality.
While they follow a corrupted voice, laden
With false notions and irrationality.
This conviction has seduced their soul, with
Visions of fear and lethal consequence sustained.
Using a barrage of powerful fiction, giving faith
To a utopia without discord ... but they're ordained.
The stupidity is clearly seen, as they avoid
Any facts that disturb their view.
As these followers become so deeply entrenched,
They can't escape the shadow that's untrue.
Having seen the danger progress, while a
Fragile democracy wavers on the brink.
Watching a majority come under constant attack,
And a privileged minority tries to silence those who critically think.
Telling Time
David J Walker
I
It was our Kindergarten Dissertation
Tying our shoes in neat bow knots
Counting to100
And the recognition of the trek
Of the Big and Small hands of
The wall clock
in relation to
Recess and lunch
and time to go home
II
The race against the clock
Leaves one numb
The day is never done
as long as time presents itself
in the night sky
Baiting you to decipher its
Enigmatic code
III
There is no time my professor said
Everything appears and disappears
in the now
Every line of the universe
Measures another place and time
I am but a spirit
He said
Materiality is the illusion that we all see
But never agree upon
IV
Will the clock chime on the
Stage of space
Demarking today from tomorrow
What is there to lose in
Closing the shades of
a picture window
V
The thing is
No matter what you say
The clock runs
Deaf and dumb
And blind to the point of oblivion
The Tic-Tok of the wall clock
Picks pockets like
a common street thief
waiting for you to awaken
VI
But I remember
however imperfectly
There were days before these
That I can still reach with my hands
And we can agree
To some extent
Were real
That’s how I know I can tell time
By the scars and the stars
that had to come
from somewhere
I followed that cad Robyn Hood
and discovered he's up to no good
An expert at cheating
bad mouthing and bleating
His actions I've not understood
Oh how awful that folks feel so glum
Many now call him Robyn Hoodlum
He's a raunchy thief
who brought them to grief
He preyed on the blind, deaf, and dumb
Robyn has folks dancing like Muppets
He loves to treat them like puppets
He tugs at their strings
and then clips their wings
No wonder their confidence plummets
Heard the sheriff will arrest him soon
Robyn will be singing a new tune
While sitting in jail
He will cry and wail
In sorrow for acting like a goon
Sheriff found out Robyn is a girl
Her real name is Antoinette Pearl
Robyn Hoodlum wed
Now the sheriff is dead
and Robyn is engaged to an earl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11-01-17
Fairytale plot by Jan Allison, Marti Sutherland, and Lin Lane
There are no more telephone booths,
not the old type - the glass coffins.
The Atalanta hub is rocking,
planes and people buzzing in and out
of an anthill nexus
of distracted minds.
Calling London,
a city
that has red telephone boxes,
concrete-set booths
that all ring at once.
Wrong numbers are seeking answers.
There is a cacophony
in the pressed ears of puzzlement.
The airport begins to spin around,
faster and faster,
a shaky orbit encircling speaking lips.
Dialing fingers sweat, are too thick
for changing conversations.
Talking heads are searching
for one direct call,
one line in an ethereal ball of string.
Red boxes are bellowing now,
every voice is angry,
nearby glass booths
are trembling with a frustrated rage.
All these images are an allegory
for the deaf and dumb days of yore,
a distant time locked in its own
transparent sarcophagus -
drowned-out mouths,
even now
fitfully trying to connect.
Every Friday he visits our home, promptly , He presses the calling bell and stands calmly. , I open the door and look at him keenly , He is a new beggar but he is dressed neatly.
I give him a ten rupee coin willingly, But he refuses to get it, hesitatingly, I am asking the reason for not getting the alms, He puts his finger on his nose and stays calms..
I have come to know that he is deaf and dumb, And he gets alms only from the women,
My wife has come and given him money, He nods his head and keeps it sweet as honey.
One day I see him near the Shiva temple, He reads an English daily and eats bread, And he is a great puzzle for me and others , I don't know about him,I am not a mind reader.
One who fashions idols sees no profit:
Poor, deaf and dumb, in blindness brought to shame.
Let them assemble; now the pieces fit?
When fools convene, the outcome is the same.
The craftsman forges iron with tools and strength;
Soon tired, parched and hungry, he falls faint.
The wood, he shapes with planes and cuts to length.
Gods these? The conjured images are quaint!
A fallen log, a wooden irony:
With half, he cooks, with half he warms his bod,
The rest he worships! "Nothing, lord but thee!"
He prays, cries out, "Deliver me, my god!"
Where is the wisdom? Can you not discern?
Deluded hearts that pray to gods they burn!
(from Isaiah 44)
What sweeter thing could ever be
Than this upon my bed
Twice will I give that asked of me
Even my father's head
It tempts me more than Eden's fruit
That Eve to Adam gave
I am but deaf and dumb and mute
To see this naked Eve
To stroke slowly her bushy wonder
And find a hole to bury
My special stream like no other
Richer than milk and honey
The luscious taste of twinlike lips
The feel of fleshy breast
A drive upon God's own carved hips
Ecstasy on my chest
I could loose everything but one
Even diamond a treasure
To become every Eve's Adam
And come in countless pleasure
She arouses my arrow of desire
And from her I receive
Intimate passion like no other
The sweetness beneath Eve
we awoke to five machine guns
staring at us
all were American made
therein a comfort
another American in a foreign land
the caveat, Federales were holding them
we were naked
Sally from the Alley and i
wanted to ask us a few questions
i made my way to my pants
promising God, if you would
get me out of this one
i will never touch another drop
the caveat, never promise in haste
as she arose
five machine guns followed her
half-naked across the room
the caveat, opportunity invites celerity
quickly i slipped my grip on the rum
two swallows down
Paul's epistle to Timothy
a little wine for thy stomach's sake
and your frequent ailments
such as my hangovers
on the other bed lay
Tennyson, Kerouac, Yeats, Dickinson
playing deaf and dumb
along with a quarter pound of smoke
i will give you five to one
they take the smoke
and leave the poets alone
the caveat, they did
well gentlemen say i
none spoke English
i will give you five to one
i will get out of this
God pities drunks and idiots
already two get-out-of-jail-free cards
i did after hours of questioning
a refresher course on Mexican law
and the realization come morning
the reason for all of this
i would be burying another friend
because of alcohol
just when you have life figured
it slaps the smile away
Fergus Falls 96 The Patient Stones
“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom...You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough.” William Blake, Proverbs of Hell
Ceuta is a Spanish city in North Africa (population: 80K people). On July 30-31, 2026 it was invaded by over 60,000 mostly young men (no women or children) who breached the border from Morocco. Some went back, but many thousands stayed or went to Spain and no one tried stop or expel them
To those who let the hordes come in:
You are the enemy within
And care not for folks of yours
The fiends walked through the open doors
They didn’t care for the law
The riots worst we ever saw
Payback when Spain Okay’s their stay
But own people they betray
Somewhere hides the “greater good”
Netflix or even Hollywood
Should pick the story of conquest
About how we lost the West
The Muslim savages are best
Failed breaks, all riled, brutal fest
They didn’t stop, run amok-crazed
Yet Spain’s “left” remain unfazed
They don’t belong, the devil’s seed
In our world, with our creed
Projection of the things to come
Continue play blind, deaf and dumb
August 5, 2026
Life is cheap,
My lifetime taught
At first I cared
I even fought
I railed against
The powers that be
And tugged my chain
Of liberty
The word is out:
We all succumb
The wise, the great
The deaf and dumb
We’re in for it
That final swing
You miss the ball
There goes your fling
The papers keep
The numbers stacked
The file is deep
No turning back
The ticker on
The TV reads,
“Here are the dead;
There go their deeds.”
Statistic-lives
Blips on a graph
The Shepherd tends
The dying class
The romance gone
In system rigged
Close up, we never
Looked all that big
You catch the scene
Down in your pew
So glad it’s them this time,
Not you
The body’s waked
The eulogy –
“He was a friend
To you and me –
“A fine, fine father,
A husband true
He woulda done
Anything for you.”
The speeches end –
Off to the bar
And Sunday football –
We’ll take my car
Thirty-plus years
One company
In fifteen minutes –
No memory
And all your hurts
And all your shocks
Condensed in one
Mahogany box
Then down you go
Into the swamp
Where toads and worms
Do nightly romp
And on it goes
Around the clock
The loss and gain
Like Wall St. stock
No faces rear
Up from the dead
Identities
Extricated –
Yet one more loss
Yet one more stiff
You feel the steel
Of culture’s grip
And now the plague
A ship of fools
Where captains keep
Rewriting rules
We’ll never sail
To perfect port
Our journey long past
Did abort
The squall of doubt –
The berg of pain –
In arctic waves,
Truth is disdain
We’ll never know
That beacon’s beam
And maybe life
Was just a dream
A cry unheard
And none redeemed
And maybe life
Was just to dream