Hatred is simply a fractious bug on the brain
which doesn't always wash away with the rain
that is neither the rain of love nor that of homily
But if you solemnly profess belief
in the God right above
let this even to atheists be relief
that God only means love
for no religion preaches hatred to man or family
The wronged wishing to be placated
The tortured wishing to be avenged
Embittered humans provoked to evil hatred
forgetting we are all but Adam's progeny, one kindred
Alas, hatred's a scenario that so costs humanity
Most of us are tired of hearing
of this cause and effect' circle of violence and repercussion
Why wilfully make yourself a target and fall in lasting perdition?
We don't wanna hear the hate crimes is a virus
that has no earthly cure
Since compassion is a vaccine to
prevent it for sure
Yet some might think this is easy to sing and easy to say
Gosh, but don't the world need
more die-hard supporters of peace till judgement day?
Keep the peace and spread it.!!
Do your bit, come use your wit.
Swat and squash the hate bug from your mind and heart
Promote love and compassion even with words and art
A fly flies in;
You want him out.
That's what a swatter's
All about.
You hope he lands
Where you can reach.
(Some spots have rules
You should not breach.)
Like on a vase
Or someone's head.
You need a wall
Or door instead.
And then you aim
With what you've got.
If luck is yours,
You've made the shot.
The fly falls down
Upon the floor
And then your swatter
Waits for more.
Bugs~
arrive~
do bomb dives~
swat team ready~
Die!~
4-8-17
man wrestles with his existence
while nature dances
to the melody
of the wind
Remember the hard times
For it will be around to teach our kids
And when their day has come to
All we'll see is red lipstick , loud cologne
Blasting tunes of our youth and theirs
Though we may stop them from becoming adults
The bad times are what may turn them quicker
Back porches equipped with mosquitos
Scented ale lingering around
Mary Jane's scent is everyone's favorite aroma
Remember the times
They bring past, present and no hope for the future
The call comes in to meet
To rendezvous at a secret place
I quickly get suited up
And take my rifle from its case
As we drive down the road
All huddled up in a van
Checking our equipment
Preparing to execute the plan
As we approach the house
Not knowing what lies ahead
With a halligan in hand
they lie asleep in bed
The battering ram strikes
as break and rake hooks crash
Confusion fills the air
with broken shards of glass
Securing hands in zip-cuffs
The METH-lab’s still hot
Just another night
In the life of S.W.A.T.
Swat by hands of spite,
our sprite
(unsquelched)
sprinkles from her reserves
to revive a sacred rite;
in her hands,
speckles of if
become when.