Jalapeno Pepper Blog

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that we may choose the brothers we keep
we shall not be we shall not be abuse
by brothers who would bleed us and diminish
his brother’s hearth and home
then claiming ownership by blood

for who can choose save their own path
or judge this one right or wrong
beyond what feels
one way or the other

when we can’t say what we feel
we’re in the wrong casa
wrong family wrong friends
we all gonna say things others don’t like
when anger turns red it is anger within
look out!

true righteousness does not shout.
look around you
who’s shouting it out?

seventy how many ways to leave your lover
yeah, singing it Willie,
“Ya gotta know when to fold,
when to walk away,
and when to hold.”

thanks and praises dear Willie
i pray someday you’ll meet
my musical Keyes.

~

one quizzical eye seeing
one tender throat still singing
one small heart knowing
her last song is the saddest

all feathers dropping
all wings broken
all hope fleeting
his last breath is the longest

and what do they say
little girl little boy
o the world’s not
running over with joy

knowing humankind
making their own Armageddon
foolish foolish not knowing
it is not they who name the day

nor the gods in heaven
nor the satans on earth
nor false prophets for profit
but the last canary’s croak

“I will save US cries the tea bag”
“I will save US cries the politician”
“I will save US cries the self”
there is a choice

when all the cows come home
when clowns dance on pins
when chickens don’t need a reason
will there be eyes to see and ears that hear?

~

~

yes my dear there is nothing to say
all the toys broken the children have run
we took the carrot and broke the stick
it’s ok the flowers didn’t come
the offer gets us thru another day
honk yer horn if you see Jesus

you’re kidding i say
i see him every day
see those baggy pants and raggedy shoes?
by the hundreds, by the thousands
they came
and they follow him still

what’s your trouble old lady old man
there were no good old days
there’s only tomorrow and tomorrow
nobody stays forever – ask
the little boy dead in his mother’s arms
when tomorrow is

off i am to pillow my head now
and pray it goes to sleep
could you sing me a lullaby?

hush little momma don’t you cry
when you wake we’ll bake a cake
Danny boy’s comin’ home
with the morning sun

truly?

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billions starve
billionaires wannabe trillionaires
Wall Street replaces Ft. Knox
50 US cities break heat record
growing the economy is King

shoulders fold around themselves
vision narrows
cocoon begins to chill
still ears hear the humming machines
no butterfly will come of this
soon to be shroud

we can’t go home this time Kathleen
the daises have all passed away
nor can we meet
on the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond —
as has been written by the ancient ones
“During times of feast by the rich
and famine by the poor
personal sacrifice is requested.”

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