Sharpen The Knives
(Damascus, August 21, 2013)
Awakened by incoming rockets making a whistling noise
Impacting with muffled explosions; he could not breath.
He punched himself hard in the chest to get air moving.
People all around were choking without air and suffocating.
More than fourteen hundred confirmed dead,
Over four hundred of them babes and children.
All the victims, staring up with open eyes
And their mouths wide open trying to breath.
A regime attack ordered by President Bassar Assad
Against the citizens of Syria in Damascus.
A terror use of poisoneous gas to impose terror.
Babes do not fight wars, they are truly innocent.
The President is a socialpath killer of his people.
While they choke to death, he eats his breakfast.
Bassar Assad is a marked man, revenge is normal,
It is required, it is fundamental to the beliefs of Muslims.
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Shite and Sunni War
(Qusayr, June 11, 2013)
Bashar Assad has succeeded.
The focus has been redirected
From regime change in Syria
To a Shite against Sunni conflict.
The old hatred in the Muslim World,
Of Shite's not being true believers
Has been exploited by Syria's leader.
He has inflamed these divisions.
Syria's Civil War is exploding,
Lebanon's Hezbollah fighting in Syria,
Qusayr falls to them after three weeks
Of horrific street to street battle.
Iran supplies fighters and war equipment.
The borders of Turkey, Iraq and Jordan
All have been violated and killing done.
Russia flies in arms to the Assad regime.
Saudi Arabia, the Qutar Shiekdom,
France and Britain support the rebels.
The USA reluctantly begins active support.
Israel sits on the fence, watching all.
Refugees' number more than a million.
The dead number one hundred thousand.
Cities and villages now piles of rubble.
The Shite-Sunni War has now begun.
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Checkmate
(Atareb, Syria, Nov. 27, 2012)
The 46th Regiment hunkered down,
Safe within their walled citadel.
The Free Syrian Army or FSA
Controlled the area outside the walls.
The Regiment was cut off from supplies,
After two months, they were desparate.
Food was being rationed as well as water,
Only ammunition was plentiful.
The Free Syrian Army attacked at night.
They breached the northern wall
And captured a section within.
Their foothold included a building.
They found artillery in the building.
They moved it into position to fire,
Their target, the headquarters building
And the soldiers of Bashar Assad within.
"Surrender or you will be killed.
Do you want to die for Assad?"
A white flag appeared in time,
The Commanding Officer approached.
"Allah is great and we are his children.
Bashar Assad is a bloody devil.
We beg for the mercy of Allah.
We are believers and we surrender."
Within the cellars of the building
Were crates of new Russian weapons.
There were hundreds of surface to air missiles
And the launchers that put them in flight.
Assemble, insert missile, pull safety,
Clear back-blast area for fifty meters.
Adjust sights depending on target distance,
Aim, wait for red light-beeper. Fire!
They followed the instructions with care;
A MIG-23 jet and a helicopter
Were destroyed by missiles the next day.
The war has turned, no longer a stalemate.
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Death Within
(Damascus, Syria)
July 18, 2012
A meeting of the Defense Council
Is in progress; an explosion detonates.
Ministers and senior advisors dead,
Others wounded by the blast within.
Three Ministers and senior military,
Killed in their very own headquarters.
No one is safe, the knife has turned,
For those who would oppress freedom.
The Syrian freedom fighters chant:
"It is going to end for killers."
"It is going to end for jailers."
"It is going to end for torturers."
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Invitation To A Dance
For President Bassar of Syria
There is going to be a party.
You are invited to the dance.
It will be a big celebration,
Everyone will be at the event.
Yes! You Assad are the guest.
You are the guest of honor.
No one can replace you here.
You simply must come to the party.
Their will be singing and drums.
The women will all be beautiful.
The men will dance in the streets,
Even the clerics will make an appearance.
The sky will be filled with fireworks.
The guns will be fired to inform all,
That we are celebrating an event:
"The Last Day of an Evil Regime."
You don't have to dress-up for the dance.
We'll give you a hood for your head
And a rope for your skinny neck.
You'll dance with the Devil this night.
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The Noose Tightens
(Damascus, June 8, 2012)
In a small farming village near Hama,
Syrian "shebiha", local Alawite paramilitary,
Hacked, stabbed and burned to death
All the Sunni farmers and their families.
This was the second such incident within two weeks.
Two days later in Damascus after prayers,
The people gathered to protest and march.
Government troops opened fired on them.
The crowd dispersed, but some took up arms.
A battle in the city took place into the night.
Automatic weapons and rifle grenades responded
To the soldiers and the tanks cannon fire.
Both side inflicted and suffered casualties.
The battle has begun, it has moved to Damascus.
The gunfire could be heard in the Presidents palace.
It is the beginning of the end for a terror regime.
President Bashar Assad should listen carefully.
When he hears the hammering of nails,
It may be for the scaffold he'll hang from,
Dancing in the air as his people celebrate.
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Terror In Houla
(May 25, 2012)
In a small farming town in Syria,
Two hours after noon time prayers,
Army troops fired cannon and mortars
That fell on the farmers of Houla.
This indiscript town in western Syria
Was now the target of their own Army.
The bombardment killed twenty,
But, that was only the prelude to horror.
Toward dusk, armed men entered Houla,
Some were in uniforms, most were neighbors
From a Shite town nearby and recognized.
The slaughter of innocents began in earnest.
Victims were forced into one room,
A family of eight with babes in arms
Was systematically murdered in turn.
No mercy to a Sunni, that was the message.
The bloodletting continued unimpeded,
Families killed, victims of Bassar Assad.
One hundred and eight were buried,
Laid to rest in shrouds the next morning.
Assad is fermenting a religious war,
Where a Shite minority is forced into support
Of a bloody regime of hate and terror.
Thusfar, the Sunni have not responded in kind.
It is not their neighbors that they hate,
It is the regime of President Bassar Assad.
His days are numbered, no forgiveness is possible.
Vengence is required, Assad's death is foreordained.
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Murdering Idlib
(March 10, 2012 in Syria)
Another Syrian town is surrounded.
Artillery and tanks are poised for action
Against the citizens of Idlib,
A Provinvial Capital in the north.
The command is given to the artillery "Fire!"
Death and destruction rain down on Idlib.
The innocents are blasted while sleeping.
Homes become debris filled with death.
The tanks are ordered in at dawn,
Firing thier machine guns at everything.
Go into the streets and you die.
Stay in your home and you die.
The "goons" break down the doors.
They arrest targeted activists,
Dragging them off for interrogation.
"Will we ever see our father again?"
A replay of the terror of Homs,
Another city about to be murdered.
Violence, terror, death and depravation,
These will all visit Idlib by order of Assad.
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Oh Syria!
At night, at the checkpoints,
The men are taken from their families.
They are taken to be murdered:
"This is the price you pay for freedom."
Old men, women and children,
They flee from the terror of Homs.
Four weeks of bombardment;
No food, little water and death.
A regime gone mad with killing.
They kill all who voice opposition.
Citizens are only citizens in Syria
When they conform to the rules of terror.
No one is safe from fear and terror.
Women are raped in their own homes.
Children are sodomized while mothers watch.
The Mosque is violated and Korans burned.
Oh Syria! You cry out in pain.
Oh Syria! Evil is your Master.
Oh Syria! What hope do you have?
Hope for Justice! Hope for Guns! Hope for Freedom!
ADDENDUM
Allah is great and we are his children.
The family is sacred and must be protected.
Evil is here and guns will bring us freedom.
The rope of retribution will bring us justice!
|
Killing Homs
(February 17, 2012)
The Army of Syria does battle,
It advances on the city of Homs,
The third largest city in Syria,
One and a quarter million people.
They target the voices of change.
They shell the houses of women.
They destroy the schools of children.
Hospitals are targeted for destruction.
The brave soldiers ride in tanks,
They have helicopters to assist them,
They demonstrate their killing prowess
Against citizens who would raise a voice.
The shells rain down on the voices.
The water and lights have been cut.
The bullets richochet off the buildings.
The food is gone and people will die.
The world watches and debates:
"How do we stop the murder of Homs?"
The United Nations condemns with a weak vote.
Mourn with me, say a prayer for the voices.
|
Arab Spring, 2011
Dictators, Kings, Presidents,
They are all old men or sons.
The regimes are run by despots.
The Mullahs support ancient ways.
The youth are educated without jobs.
Their hopes and dreams are frustrated.
Their futures are questionable.
They want a vote, jobs and family.
The despots are on edge this spring,
Two have been toppled from power,
Two more are soon to be overthrown.
The casbah is rocked by revolt.
Every Friday after prayers to "Allah",
The people march in civil protest.
They march for change, for a future.
They demonstrate against corrupt rulers.
The regimes attempt to hang on:
They shoot the unarmed protestors,
Hundreds murdered in Yemen's streets,
More than a thousand gunned down in Syria.
The people are paying for change.
They pay with the blood of their children.
This revolution will not be suppressed.
This revolt will change the Arab regimes.
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The Ophans Revolution
(Syria, 6th year)
(400,000 dead)
(11,000,000 Displaced)
The people are in revolt throughout Syria.
They demonstrate in unyielding defiance,
Against a terror regime that controls everything;
Fifty years of fear, suppression and exploitation.
In the cities, each Friday after prayers.
The unarmed people take to the streets.
They want Basar Assar to leave Syria.
The President has lost the support of the people.
Assad talks smooth, but turns the dogs loose;
Snipers on the rooftops target and kill,
Armored vehicles turn thier killing guns on the people,
Regime aircraft bomb civilians waiting in bread lines.
The regime imposes terror as a weapon of choice;
Women raped within the sanctuary of thier homes,
Men arrested, tortured, murdered and dumped,
Boys taken from homes, beaten, raped and killed.
Some towns are deserted in fear of the regime.
The people sleep rough in the fields with thier children.
Many flee across borders to refugee camps.
Refugees, wounded, detained and killed, the toll rises.
This is a civil war, they believe they are ophans.
No press coverage allowed, only a few aid them.
The toll mounts: more than a four hundred thousand dead,
Thirteen million external and internal refugees.
The people are unbelieveably brave and do battle.
They fight for freedom, a vote, an opportunity.
They fight seeking human dignity and rights.
They fight for the future of their children.
And now they flee in terror and dispair.
|
We Will Succeed
(Syria, February, 2012)
More than twelve months of protest.
More than seventy-five hundred killed.
Perhaps ninety thousand refugees
And thousands more wounded.
The Syrian people are defiant.
They march in the cities.
They unite against the regime.
They risk death each time they march.
Snipers target head hits to kill.
The Army is ordered to fire on protestors,
Even women and children are murdered.
The tanks guns blast the mosques.
Basar Assad is a killer of his people.
They hope he will receive justice.
They hope the Dictator will hang.
They hope for freedom and liberty.
They will march, they will resist,
They will organise and do battle.
They will topple this killer regime.
They will succeed, no matter the cost.
|
The Spark Ignites
(January 2011)
Wiki Leaks posted "SECRETS",
USA communiques from State,
On the web for all to see:
Tunisia's President is beyond corrupt.
A Tunisian vegetable vendor
Is insulted and slapped around
Because he didn't pay off officials
For marketing his staples.
He pours gasoline on himself,
Sets himself afire and burns.
He lingers in hospital for days,
And dies. Tunisians are outraged.
The spark of anger explodes
Against a corrupt and arrogant regime,
A regime of fear and suppression,
A regime hated by the people of Tunisia.
They demonstrate and demand change.
They demand freedom and democracy.
They demand the end of the regime.
In the night - the President takes flight.
|
The Last Pharaoh
(February 2011)
The light of change shines
With the flight of Tunisia's President,
A Facebook page calls for protest
Against Mubarak of Egypt.
At first, the protests are peaceful
And Mubarak agrees to some demands,
But he refuses to relinquish power.
The people demand his departure.
He orders "goons" into Tahrir Square.
They ride in on camels and horses,
Beating and disrupting a peaceful protest.
The battle goes on for hours with rocks.
Reporters are targeted and beaten:
"Suppress the news! Stop the filming!"
More than 200 dead and missing.
Cry; "Freedom" "Democracy" and "Change".
Change is promised, Mubarak resigns.
The joy of victory and feedom are heard.
The last Pharaoh is deposed.
A new Constitution is awaited.
|
Dictators Toppled
(February 2011)
The cries are heard loud
In the languages of the oppressed:
"Freedom" "Democracy" "Food" "Jobs".
The youth demonstrate for change.
The President of Tunisia fled in the night.
Mubarak has relinquished power.
The dictator regimes are in terror.
And the protests spread for change.
Yemen, Bahrain, Libya, Jordan,
Algeria and the Persians of Iran.
The roll call of oppressive nations grows.
The people want change and freedom.
Censorship no longer works.
Cell phones film the violence.
The internet spreads revolution.
The old guard is being toppled.
|
Net Age Dialogue
(Obama and Hilary)
February - 2011
The President of Tunisia has fled.
The protests are spreading.
Mubarak has finally resigned.
More people are demanding change.
The marching is ongoing.
The demonstrators are fearless.
The roll call of martyrs grows.
This is a true cry for democracy.
I have already voiced clear support.
You have also spoken loud and clear.
All peoples have rights to freedom.
Suppression will not work in the Net-Age.
The wars we are fighting currently
(In Irag and Afganistan)
Have hardly changed anything.
We have spent lives and treasure
With little to show for our efforts.
The message is as clear as crystal;
Imposing change with arms fails.
The people must impose change.
The "net" is the new weapon.
Mister President, I totally agree.
I'm directing funds from States budget
To expand internet voices for democracy.
The Net-Age will ring the freedom bell.
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De Oppresso Liber
(February 2011)
The people of Libya demonstrate.
They want change from forty-two years
Of dictatorship by Muammar Khadafi,
The "Monkey King" of the Middle-East.
Eastern Libya breaks away from Tripoli.
The people set up a new government.
They organize to liberate all of Libya.
They dream of a united "free Libya".
In Tripoli, Ghadafi fires on demonstrators,
Hundreds are killed; men, women, children.
Thousands are wounded and terrorized.
Tens of thousands become refugees from terror.
The people fight the army with sticks.
They ask Europe for help and arms.
They ask America for help and arms.
The "powers" condemn and freeze bank accounts.
This story is half told, the end unclear.
Freedom cries out against paid assassins.
Khadafi is delusional, paranoid and mad.
Khadafi needs to fall before freedom will blossom.
|
Victory Libya
(August 23, 2011))
It is a day of celebration,
The Khadafy forces have fled.
The city of Tripoli is liberated.
The country of Libya is free.
The regimes Army has been defeated.
The gun mounted utility vehicles
Engage the last of the diehards,
But nothing will void this triumph.
The people dance in Martyrs Square.
They celebrate the last of a despot.
They celebrate a great victory.
They celebrate a new beginning.
|
Requiem For Muammar Khadafi
(October 20, 2011)
The dictator of forty-two years is dead.
While fleeing, his convoy was bombed,
He sought refuge in a sewer drain,
Where he was found hiding by the rebels.
Still alive, he was beaten and killed.
An eighteen year old finished him off
And took his golden pistol as throphy.
Justice has been done to the oppressor.
On his people, he imposed terror.
He gave them torture and prisons.
When the prisons were full, he killed them,
To make room for new prisoners.
The Lord of Retribution is validated.
The "Monkey King" as he was called,
Dieded like a cockroach in a sewer;
First stepped upon and than exterminated.
The people are joyful and jubilant.
Sing out your goodbye: "Go to Hell Khadafi!"
Remember the thief and madman.
Remember the despot and murderer.
Dance in the streets, fire your guns.
Celebrate the end of a feared dictator,
Who did so much harm, to so many.
For so many years: "Go to Hell Khadafi!"
|
Buried In The Desert
(October 25, 2011)
He lay half naked in a meat locker
On public display for four days,
A new kind of state funeral
For Muammar Qaddafi, ruler of Libya.
After mid-night, a convoy arrived.
He was prepared for buriel:
Wrapped in a shroud, placed in a coffin.
His son and one Minister joined him.
They drove into the expanse of desert,
Stopped at an empty location,
Where the Muslim cleric said prayers.
All three were lowered into the ground.
They lay in unmarked graves
At an unknown location.
No monument, no mourning, hidden,
With nothing but desert sand to cover them.
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Election In Iran
(June 2009)
The regime counts votes
And declares victory.
The people in disbelief -
The election was stolen.
Facebook and Twitter,
And revolution in Iran,
Filmed on cell phones,
Distributed on You-Tube.
The government censors.
The government filters.
The government blocks.
Information is revolution.
The people in Iran
Find holes in the Internet,
The messages keep flowing,
Each a scream for justice.
|
Neda: The Voice Of Iran
An innocent walking in the street,
Targeted by a regime sniper.
His bullet flies and hits his victim.
Neda's last words are: "It burned me."
She dies in the streets of Tehran,
Amid protestors of election fraud,
Killed in an act of terror,
To quell the voice of the people.
A passerby films her death
And the whole world can see
The blood staining the street
As her life flows from her.
In the Farsi language,
"Neda" translates as "the voice".
The voice of freedom is not silent,
It sings loud from the rooftops.
|
Battle Of Ashura
(Tehran 12-27-09)
On "Ashura" the holiest of holidays in Tehran,
The crowds marched to protest a dictatorship.
The regime rules after rigging the elections in June,
Stuffed ballot boxes are not legitamacy.
The police attempt to disperse the marchers.
They fire tear gas into the marching crowds.
They wade into the crowds with swinging batons.
They shoot their guns into the air as a warning.
The crowd surges forward without pause.
They overwhelm a police station.
They torch police vehicles in protest.
The police fire into the massed protesters.
Many protesters are wounded and ten are killed.
The illigitimate regime murders its own citizens.
The people of Iran are stunned at the killings.
The world watches the choatic battles in the streets.
A police van with protective grill work
Drives into the crowd and does murder.
The injured and dead are left in its wake.
The stunned onlookers are shocked by the brutality.
The next day, fifteen hundred are arrested.
The regime will use violence, force and intimidation.
The citizens of Iran cry from the rooftops:
"Down with dictators! Give us justice!"
|
Weep For Lebanon (Trilogy)
Hizballah provokes Israel-
With a planned kidnapping:
Two Israeli soldiers now hostage,
And five killed in the combat.
The dogs of war are unleashed.
Israel responds with artillery fire,
And launches pre-planned strikes;
Its Air Force ready to destroy.
The targets are the infrastructure.
They are designed to cripple,
They are destruction of commerce,
They are the communication links.
While terror and death prowl,
The people of Lebanon flee.
They seek refuge away from the bombs,
They cry out to the world for justice,
The big powers talk of self-protection,
The rights of the Israeli people,
While a new democracy crumbles:
In response to a terrorist provocation.
Lebanon Villager
The roar of the beast;
It tears asunder the morning,
It explodes in a canopy of terror,
It is tanks and war planes.
They have come for revenge.
They have come for retribution.
They have come to do havoc,
And I am truly frightened.
Our simple lives are no more.
We no longer know tomorrow.
Our world is being destroyed.
By the mighty Israelites.
Lebanon's Black Truce
A peace in Lebanon,
With both sides holding guns,
With destruction all around,
With hatred deeply ingrained.
This is the end of a war
That has achieved nothing;
That has wrought a new generation
Of children that hate their neighbors.
The politicians and the generals,
They each declare victory;
But the dead do not vote,
And the grieved only have tears.
Lebanon has been torn asunder.
Israel is still fearing terror.
The dogs of war are still angry-
Only a weak leash holds them in check.
|
IRAN: Death March
(February 2011)
The government of Iran is fearful.
The Ayatolla who is the dictator
Has a message for demonstrators:
"Sedition will incur mass executions."
The people of Iran know this is real.
They know executions are on going.
Friends and dissidents go missing.
The bodies are returned for burial.
The governments "thugs" on mortorcycles
Will be out in force to intimidate.
The people who march must be prepared.
The chance of martyrdom is present.
The Ruler threatens peaceful demonstrators.
Dissidents are threathened with mass murder.
Obama, raise your voice for all to hear.
This is barbaric and madness by a despot.
|
Japanese Tsunami
(March 11, 2011)
Close off the coast of Japan,
An earthquake rattles.
This is a 9.0 monster,
Larger than anyone could imagine.
The earthquake generates a tsunami,
A wave of immense volume -
Seven to ten meters high,
It sweeps all in its path.
The people of this land
Are hit with this water mass.
The time to escape is minutes,
It swallows and churns all in its path.
Thousands doomed in a killer wave.
Lives changed in a moment.
Towns demolished in an instance.
A landscape littered with broken dreams.
Say a prayer for souls no longer here.
Bow your head and weep for mankind.
Don't ask why! There is no answer.
Life is precious, treasure it each day.
|
Hurricane Sandy
(October, 2012)
The storm meandered toward the East Coast.
Another cold front was moving down from Canada.
The mixture of cold and warm moist air is bad
And "bad" is what "Hurricane Sandy" became.
New Jersey was hit directly by the storm.
Seacoast towns were battered by the ferocious waves.
The evacuation was mandatory and frightening:
"Will our homes still be there after the storm?"
New York City swamped, subways and tunnels flooded.
The airports closed and thousands of flights canceled.
Power generators shorted out and a city in darkness.
No power, transportation curtailed, darkness and fear.
Over one hundred people killed in this storm called "Sandy".
Fifty billion dollars in estimated economic damage inflicted.
Family homes of generations washed away overnight.
Teardrops enough for lives that have been changed forever.
A once in a hundred year storm is the description of this storm.
A late hurricane, a cold mass from Canada and high tides:
The formula for disaster, disruption and destruction.
This is the first wave of "global warming" to hit America.
|
CAPITAL MARKETS WHIRLPOOL - 2008
If this is the way it was -
This is the way it will be.
It is the history of repitition,
Programmed within the algorithms.
The black box of algorithms
Can calculate the chances.
It can create great wealth,
With a strong dose of leverage.
The Masters of the Universe
Gather in their billions.
The algorithms make great sums,
And we all admire greatness.
All the money in the world,
It was bet, and bet again.
Great wealth is made by leverage.
Great minds work algorithms.
A black swan comes from nowhere,
And the algorithms faulter.
All trades deminish with leverage,
And billions flow from the coffers.
And now their is a great stew:
The black boxes are throw in,
The algorithm boys are throw in,
Masters of the Universe float on top.
|
Madoff's Massacre
Bernard L. Madoff ponzied $50 billion.
The sum is staggering in its size.
The losses ripple well beyond the splash.
This scam will impact thousands of lives.
The Securities and Exchange Commission,
The governments enforcement agency
Ignored warnings and reports of malfeasance.
The rules were in place, enforcement was lacking.
The investors trusted "Bernie" L. Madoff.
He was an honest broker and a good man.
This is the tale that is told to the media.
His credentials were beyond reproach.
The results of investing with "Bernie" were good.
Each year, he reported consistent returns.
No matter that markets were down, "Bernie" performed.
His audits were false and a "signature CPA" endorsed.
When he was quiried, he told his clients:
"It is a proprietary trading system,
Enjoy your fortune and don't tell anyone.
Trust me on this, I know best."
Family fortunes wiped out, celebrities duped,
Charitable funds gone - good works halted.
But the greatest impact will be on the very word:
"Trust! Trust me! Believe! I am an honest man!"
Note: Bernie Madoff died in prison not having complete his 150 year confinement on April 14, 2021 at age 82. He asked for forgivness, not many forgave him.
|
BURST LEVERAGE '08
Leverage! Leverage! Leverage!
This was the word for growth.
In the previous few years,
Prosperity and commerce grew.
Now, the system almost fails,
And the culprit is leverage.
Leverage went ballistic -
Thirty to One and higher.
A slight misjudgement proved fatal:
Banks are emptied, no longer lending,
The largest insurance company,
It made bets, without insuring.
The "Masters of the Universe",
Residing in the investment banks,
Wagered with leveraged foolishness.
Their "House of cards" crumbled.
Government in absolute panic,
Appropriates billions to dispense
In an effort to stabilize
The credit system of capitalism.
Leverage is a dirty word.
Investment bankers are villians.
"Masters of the Universe" are fools.
Capitalisms "shrapnel" wounds all.
|
HOOK-UP, '09 Begins
The 'bubble" broke.
Wall Street is down.
Main Street is hurting.
Government is scampering.
Appropriate billions.
Bail out banking!
Bail out automotive!
Bail out the USA!
Woe unto us people,
401's are now 201's,
Retirement is a joke -
The money is gone.
My mortgage is behind.
The "repo man" has my auto.
My wife is leaving me.
I need a job.
Unemployment keeps rising.
The belt is already tight.
My insurance has run out.
I need a parachute.
|
Meltdown Hearings
(June 25, 2009)
The crisis is beyond crisis.
Congress is taking testimony.
Bernanke is the target.
He saved us, from spiralling down.
Members are preemed for camera,
Looking very impressive indeed.
Questions are prepared by staff,
They each have their five minutes.
Chairman Bernanke tells all.
No pressure at all, just facts,
The country was tanking
And a deal needed to be done.
Congressman shout: "Fire the man",
He refuses his whipping.
He believes he did quite well,
Considering "the end was near".
|
"Blasted Algorithms!!!"
The flow of numbers is constant.
It can be higher or lower every day.
It can be multiplied or divided tomorrow.
It can be with interest or not.
This is the science of mathematics.
This is the science of programmers.
This is the science of investment bankers.
This is the science of gamblers.
Show me the numbers and I will know.
I will know that the economy is growing.
I will know if the markets are tanking.
Because numbers talk, I will know.
Now, someone must set the parameters.
Then experts can develop the algorithms.
Should the guidance be off the mark,
The results can be catastrophic.
Thus, developed the term: "black swans".
Until a pair were seen in Australia,
No one believed that black swans existed
"Black swan" shocks are algorithms doom.
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Dance Of The Capital Markets
(mid-2010)
I am not making a return.
The market is down and so am I.
Interest rates are below one percent.
Ten year Treasuries are at three percent.
Haven't they heard about inflation,
Not to mention taxes are rising?
Costs are going up all around.
My yield is stuck in the mud.
The government spends without care.
Don't they know each dollar of debt
Is a future tax with interest owed.
My grandkids can expect "poor".
The global currency is the dollar.
We should be able to leverage that,
But regulations, laws and taxes,
Are deleveraging the dollar for sure.
Congress and the President spend.
I wish I had some money left,
But all I get are promises and hope,
While waiting for my taxes to go up.
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Demography Is Destiny
(Post 2012 USA Election)
Who the electorate are does matter in elections.
There is a diference between a male and a female.
There is a difference between blacks and whites.
There is a difference between Christians and not so.
People believe, they have hopes and aspirations.
The landscape is ever changing in its make-up.
The economy has cycles, they are the norm.
Education reflects different levels of knowledge.
All of this, the blendings are the demographics,
How a country and electorate forever morph.
This last election demonstrated the changes.
This land is more a mixture than ever before.
The biggest block of voters is not a party.
It is not Democratic. It is not Republician.
It is the women voters of this country.
The fastest growing block is Latino's.
A voice in politics must talk to the voters.
All the diverse views need to be addressed.
You can try to buy an election and some do,
But the money is swallowed up in negativism.
The message of the 2012 election is clear,
The old demographics are no longer working,
The new diversity has come to the forefront.
Talk to the people, reverse this trend of exclusiveness.
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Weep for New Orleans
Hurricane Katrina swept in,
From the warm waters of the Gulf:
A force of wind and rain and tides,
A powerful harbinger of destruction.
At first, it looked like a near miss,
But then, the water surged and overflowed.
And the levees began to crumble,
And soon New Orleans was flooded.
No food, no drinking water, only death
Or evacuation: a whole city fleeing-
To seek shelter, to seek help.
Watching people die on TV.
The people plead for our assistance.
They are on the rooftop islands.
Fires burn buildings down to the water line.
All are dazed, all seek help now.
Looting, mayhem and bedlam begin.
Hundreds will die tragically.
The people of New Orleans are in hell.
Weep with me for New Orleans.
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Tsunami
The earth splits and shifts
In the Indian Ocean
Off the coast of Indonesia,
And a Tsunami is created.
A surge of water travels
As a ripple across the ocean,
And makes landfall in waves-
Giant waves of death and terror.
The destruction is massive,
Striking down rich and poor,
Killing workers and tourists,
Leaving death in its wake.
The numbers and tragedy grow,
As the disaster unfolds.
In disbelief, we hear reports
Of thousands lost in the water.
The disruption is beyond belief.
The tragedy beyond comprehension,
As people in far-off lands
Reach out, asking us for help.
Tsunami Requiem
The world mourns for the many victims,
The victims of a tsunami wave of destruction -
That sweap the shores of the Indian Ocean,
As thousands were swallowed by the sea.
Be they fisherman, tourist, or farmer,
They were by the sea that Boxing Day.
And their lives ended by a terror wave
That took them too early to their end.
We mourn the Muslims of Indonesia,
We mourn the Buddhists of Thailand,
We mourn the Hindu of India,
We mourn for all the others who are gone.
Remember them for all the lives they lived,
Be they Prince or be they fisherman.
Remember the mothers and grandparents,
Remember the children who are all gone.
Mourn with compassion, for mankind is grieved.
Mourn with sorrow for lives not yet lived.
Mourn with your tears for this tragedy.
Mourn for we are human and life is a blessing.
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FireStorm
The fire had been advancing for days.
Rick and Jeannette thought they were safe
On their three acre site above the creek,
Their beautiful retirement home in the trees.
All of a sudden the wind picked up,
Blowing sparks and embers in the air.
The fire spread around Paradise township.
The wind whipping and jumping down a canyon.
The Sheriff drove up their driveway.
They had fifteen minutes to evacuate.
They grabbed photos, clothing, eyeglasses,
And last, they grabbed their insurance papers.
They loaded both cars and were escorted out,
Now hearing the the whop-whop-whop sound of choppers.
They looked back at their house on the hill top
As the firestorm, approached fast and furious.
All the churches, schools and even the fairgrounds,
Were full of fleeing frightened evacuees.
They sheltered with a friend in Oroville
And prayed their home would survive.
Twenty-four hours later, they returned
Hopes high that their house survived.
As they drove down the road. Trees were gone.
Ranches were gone. Fences and houses gone.
The bridge was charred and still smoking.
The firefighters were dousing the hot spots.
They were waved through and went up a knoll.
They crested the hill and looked down.
The workshop was still standing and intact.
The redwoods were charred and blackened.
The house was gone. Only the chimney stood.
They stopped their cars and ran to each other.
Embracing and in shock, they cried for their loss.
All of their possesions gone, their history gone.
Their beautiful retirement home was gone.
It was a smoldering ruin of spent dreams.
This smokey panorama of destruction was Now.
The swiftness of events left them stunned.
All of the comforts of home gone.
A firestorm exploding and changing their lives.
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The Old Man and The Fire
(Bud and Emma McCrary)
Gusting winds whistle up the mountainside,
Driving the wildfire from a small foothold.
It spreads up a gulley where brush burns.
The embers fly and a firestorm takes hold.
A large white house stands in its path.
A mandatory evacuation order has been posted.
The old man had settled in these mountains,
After the war, more than sixty years ago.
"I'll make my stand here, this is my home.
We'll cut the brush and build fire trails.
We have water and we will fight the fire.
My sons are here, my wife stands with me."
A fire engine arrives and prepares for battle.
Foam is sprayed on sheds and out buildings.
More brush is cleared and more trees are cut.
"This house will not burn." the firechief states quietly.
The blaze spreads to the northern gulley,
Coming to within ten feet of a shed.
The water hoses do their work, and it is doused.
An ember ignites the south gulley and fire rages again.
The firemen in their flame resistant suits
Go in and tear out burning brush.
Trees above ignite and tar pitch explodes,
Blowing the tops off the redwoods: "Run! Run! Run!"
All escape, but they come back and fight the inferno,
Twenty four hours in smoke and flames.
Now everything is black except the glowing embers
And the white house of the old man and his wife.
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9-11 Requiem
A plane crashes into the South Tower,
And fire engulfs the upper stories.
A tragedy of great proportion
Shown to TV audiences instantly.
A second plane flies into the North Tower,
As disbelieving audiences watch
This attack with flying airplanes,
Loaded with passengers shocks all.
A third plane headed for Washington,
Is retaken by courageous passengers.
It swoops down from the sky and crashes,
Killing all aboard in a fiery explosion.
The last of the hi-jacked airplanes
Is flown into the Pentagon,
Killing more innocents at work,
As the nation watches on TV.
On the fifth anniversary of the tragedy,
I mourn for the lives not lived,
I mourn for families still grieving,
I mourn for a nation seeking revenge.
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Conversation Between Two Sheiks
Oil at twenty-two dollars.
That's not really too bad -
But, it sure would be nice
If we could jack-up the price!
There is a way to do that.
You just stir up the mullahs,.
Give them something to rant about,
To the masses in the Mosque.
How will that increase the price?
The mullahs always preach the Koran.
Where does religion become commerce?
I really don't see your logic.
The Americans and Jews are rich.
The mullahs can agitate a bit,
About exploitation and injustice.
They will get the activists moving.
Yes, I think I understand.
A few bombs in the right places,
Give them a little uncertainty,
About their future. Hike the price!
Yes, let's call it a "terror premium".
Let's say something like, ten dollars.
That is, ten dollars a barrel.
That will raise a lot of money.
These are big numbers we're talking.
Ten dollars is forty billion extra.
We spread that around a bit
In the Mosque and with the activists.
Yes, religious and social donations.
These are very worthy causes.
The people will applaud us:
"Allah be Praised, you are clever!"
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Bushwhacked
Who are these guys working for?
The price of oil is up, and rising.
We're calling up the Reserves to fight,
And looking for a way out of there.
The terrorists are multiplying,
And watching "Blackhawk Down",
Learning how to win against Americans.
Give me a break, and let me out of there.
Anymore victories like this one,
And we'll not be able to afford
To bring our troops back from there -
The cost of gas may just be too much.
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Baquaba
A suicide bomber explodes
His car in a marketplace.
The war in Iraq goes on:
Fighting, and killings, and terror.
A name not heard until today;
Baquaba losses fifty-eight,
Women and children, and men.
Lives ended while shopping for bread.
The victims are all Iraqis.
Victims must feed this cruel war.
Fear is the weapon of choice,
Explosions send the message.
"Get out, take your democracy!
We do not want your beliefs.
In this land, we are Muslims,
And we believe in Allah".
Churches Blasted
The bombs go off in Baghdad,
This time in front of the churches:
Death, injury and mayhem -
A warning to the Christians.
No one is safe from terror:
A car bomb detonates,
A rocket grenade explodes,
A mortar round is fired.
The aim is clear and profound,
Terror is the messenger,
Bombs, guns, and fear are weapons.
Muslims will rule in Iraq.
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Fullujah Roadblock
A roadblock in Fullujah;
Military in uniform,
Stopping and checking all,
Some pulled over and taken.
They are taken over the hill.
They are forced to dig their graves,
And then executed for crimes -
Judged by false militia.
Imposters on the road judging:
All who pass through this town.
A town where laws are written
In the sand with victims blood.
Leaflets In Fullujah
They are handing out leaflets,
In the Fullujah town square.
It is an offer to young men:
Kill an American and collect.
Yes, that is true in Fullujah,
A bounty on the heads of soldiers.
Each dead American can earn,
For the killer, one thousand dollars.
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The Heart Of A Believer
Four Americans attacked and killed,
Their bodies set on fire and burned.
The charred remains hung from a bridge,
TV cameras recording these events.
The terrorists in Fullujah rejoice.
"Go home Americans! Go home! Get out!"
A message sent in horror to the homeland,
We Muslims do not want you here.
The Marines are sent in, vowing revenge.
They kill the enemy in Fulllujah.
And they are ready to destroy the Mosque,
When words came from Washington: STOP!
The Fulllujah terrorists proclaim victory.
The Arab World once again can see,
The Americans have tanks and planes,
But, they lack the heart of a believer.
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Echo Company Returns
Echo Company returned today,
After seven grueling months.
These Marines are veterans
Of fighting and losses in Iraq
They fought the street battles,
Oftentimes, house to house,
Always wary, infinitely alert:
To the enemy and death.
One hundred and fifty men,
All glad to see family and friends.
But, they left behind comrades,
Twenty-two died in these fights.
Their faces have an edge to them,
The leanness is easy to discern.
But, it's their eyes that have changed,
Darting about, always looking up.
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Najaf Checkmate
The battle rages for three weeks.
Bomb blasts shake the city,
As war planes bomb the rebels,
And smoke rises into the night sky.
They will fight to the last bullet.
They will die for their beliefs.
They will defend their temple,
It is sacred to their bellief.
With tanks sitting just beyond
And the final assault prepared,
Word is received from London:
Peace is possible, stop the fighting.
The Grand Ayotollah
Demands the surrender of the Mosque,
The departure of both Armies,
The restitution of peace.
And so the Shites have a victory.
They rule the holy city of Najaf.
The image of the temple in flames,
Is enough to stop the tanks.
Oxymoron
The Nine-Eleven Report is out:
Not only couldn't they connect the dots,
It looks like they swallowed them raw.
I hope they didn't get indigestion.
We definitely have a big problem.
We are organized to fight the cold war,
And the terrorists are not the Russians,
Wake-up in the theatre, the cold war ended!
It is time to reorganize and move on,
An Intelligence Czar in the White House
Where information can be shared each day,
And we'll finally know, what we know.
Oh, it is definitely the right time:
One thousand days and counting since Nine-Eleven.
Time does go by, when you are terrorized.
I hope they know, that we know, they don"t know.
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Terror's Impact
A hostage in orange jumpsuit
Pleading for his very life,
With terrorists dressed in black,
Flashed upon your TV screen.
The horror to come is known:
Another victim whose pleas go unheard,
Another head dismembered from a hostage,
Another threat to do the same again.
This form of intimidation really works.
People are frightened by fanatics,
Who practice cruelty without remorse,
And are declared heroes by extremists.
The terrorists play off our emotions,
Using TV as a tool to intimidate us.
To win, we must become more terrible.
This is not possible in a democracy.
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Fullujah Killing
In the streets of Fullujah,
It is house to house fighting.
Oftentimes, buildings are cleared
One room at a time, a tough job.
In the cellar of one building,
A slaughter house is discovered,
Where terrorists cut victims throats,
While filming terror for TV viewing.
The insurgents hide in the city,
Which once sheltered many thousands.
A sniper in a minaret fires.
A rocket man launches a missile.
All must be taken down, now!
No more waiting for murderers.
No more waiting for kidnappers.
It is time to kill in Fullujah.
Democracy In Fullujah
Terrorists are headquartered
In the city of Fullujah,
Forty miles west of Baghdah,
The city known for its domes.
They have kidnapped and killed,
Innocents for executioon,
On TV cameras in this war.
They fight to intimidate.
And so the soldiers and marines,
They go into Fullujah,
And they impose their might -
To eliminate these terrorists.
The battles last for two weeks.
It is sector by sector.
It is house to house.
Each room is a conquest.
In the end, the rebels are killed.
The city is scarred and burning.
The dead bodies feed the wild dogs.
Democracy has come to Fullujah.
Christmas In Mosul
In the Iraqi city of Mosul,
It was a brilliant sunny day.
The weather, warmer than usual.
The soldiers lined-up for lunch.
A rocket hits the mess tent,
The blast is horrific and deadlly,
With shrapnel tearing through flesh.
Some crawl away, others cannot.
The dead number more than twenty.
The wounded are more numerous.
The unit had one month to go,
Before thay rotated back home.
Too many paid with the ultimate price,
While waiting in line for chicken.
The cost of democracy is high,
When it is resisted with rockets and bombs.
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Suicide Bombers
They prefer rigor mortis before democracy.
They prefer martyrdom before freedom.
They resist change we try to impose,
Upon their lands of the Mohammed faith.
The mullahs tell them this is their duty.
The mullahs tell them we are infidels.
The mullahs tell them to kill the infidels,
And expel him from the lands of the Prophet.
And we cannot understand this belief,
Because it is foreign to our own beliefs.
Mohammed's words as written in the Koran,
They are the words of God as the mullahs preach.
Spreading Democracy
I reread the Constitution,
And the Declaration of Independence,
I'm looking for the legality -
Of spreading democracy globally.
No where can I find a mandate.
Even the United Nations Charter,
It fails to order up democracy.
Without the laws of man, there is no order.
Who gave us the mandate to impose
A form of government we enjoy,
Upon others who may not be blessed,
By geography, resources, and immigration.
We are unique in our developement,
As are all countries in this world.
Democracy is wonderful for us,
But, it may not be best for all.
It is better to help others find the path,
Than to push them down the road.
A mandate made by the President,
Is not a mandate from God above.
The Deadliest Day
Thirty marines and one sailor,
Flying a routine security mission,
Over the northern Iraqi desert,
In a storm, their helicopter crashes.
All are listed killed in action,
Four more marines killed in an ambush,
Add two soldiers to the dead tally.
All killed in action today in Iraq.
The butcher's bill keeps rising:
More than fourteen hundred killed,
And ten thousand greviously wounded.
The families of too many mourn.
The President holds a news conference,
And he talks of freedom and democracy,
He speaks of staying the course,
On the deadliest day of the war.
The wheel of life turns no more,
For those who have been killed today.
Their is no staying the course,
When you are dead and gone forever.
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Clash Of Civilizations
A policy of anti-terrorism,
Is the tool of the terrorists,
In this clash of civilizations.
The USA is the conqueror of Iraq.
The terrorists use this thesis
To recruit more terrorists.
The TV images of the USA
Are of a destroyer in action.
The Arabs believe what they see.
They believe the mullahs condemnation.
They believe the TV commentators,
Who say we are killers of innocents.
The policy and the actions fail.
They fail because we are a democracy.
We have a different set of rules.
We are restricted from imposing.
The terrorists exploit our weaknesses.
They use images and terror attacks.
They believe the phase "Allah is great!",
As we believe, we are righteous.
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Requiem For Order
In the land of the Arabs,
It is the Lords and the Mullahs
Who dictate and manipulate -
The people who believe in the Koran.
We, of a different culture.
We, of a different religion.
We, of a different philosophy,
We try to impose our beliefs.
Our belief in democracy is real,
Yet it fails to implant in Arab lands,
Where the Lords and Mullahs unite -
To retain their hold on the people.
Render your grief for the Arabs,
Who journey toward a civil war,
Where uncertainty will rule,
And anger and fear will preside.
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