Month: January 2015

Brain Wash Makes Soap So Pure Like Rain (Draft 1)

Brain Wash Every Child

We know alienation, and
we will steal your youth, because
you are silly and plastic.

We Tell your youth it’s chic
and they fight for nonsense;

teenagers are nuts
and we can easily
make them crazy with chic courses.

Oh crazy elegant children
we love how you kill

because your professors and Imams
have gone mad, and

jihad is romantic.

Can we remind you that
you are ignoble, suicidal
and nuts;

No, you have become
mindless, and

Mothers now never
send your children to Harvard.

These kids are nuts
and they will kill many.

Remember there is a professor
who they believe mistakenly
told them to kill innocents, because
of past crimes of the US and of
imaginary things

So many great lectures , because
everything is relative. Not.

— Douglas Gilbert

What Used To Be In New York City (Draft 1)

What Used To be In New York City

The winter is darkly sad here:
the roads are closed for snow,
the subway is not running.

I can not go to Broadway
because the Plays are suspended

and the Long Island Railroad
is hiding.

I remember there used to be a snowball,

the play used to go on
and there was flaky suspension.

They can’t even scrape the rails:
used to be that a scrape
and a scab was nothing.

Everyone sang in the snow
hitched a ride on paradise.

I miss the day when
I got lost in the snow
and somebody’s dog
licked my face.

— Douglas Gilbert

Ooops

Ooops. Who Wrote That (Draft 1)

Who Wrote That?

Ooops,
our weather computer model
is wrong again,

But anyway
we don’t care…

Destroy West Virginia
or any state with a coal mine
because there’s Global Warming.

Destroy the Keystone pipeline
because there’s a chic stone
like a Blarney Stone:

Hollywood experts
know best, and I remember how

Robert Young in “Father Knows Best”
became “Marcus Welby, M.D.”, and a
damn pompous arrogant creep in

one episode where he saw
an old friend of his in the hospital:

He said, “What are you
doing in the CHARITY WARD?”

Condescending creep:
I hated him for that.
He scolded his friend for what?

Hollywood: they scold
from ignorance.

Despite what they claim,
they have no compassion, unless
someone agrees with them.

Ooops,
we’re just actors:
we play the role
of a scientist
of a politician
of a human

Are they?

Dr. Roy Spencer
Blarney Stone

— Douglas Gilbert

Death To Coal And West Virginia

Death To Coal And West Virginia

by “Diane”

My dear husband
has not been to Harvard

but he is a noble man
and in the coal mine
he is much prettier than a canary.

I love him much more than
the President who’s been to Harvard
and hates coal with a passion;

we have worked in a hole
and his pompous self has not.

We know about energy and faith,
and he knows about subsidized solar panels
and about his crony friends who lose money
on impractical schemes– so smart that

he’d have a mechanical canary
like the emperor, but

the the song is paramount
when the variations
are still odd and ugly
and the original melody
remains the nightingale’s
original truth and glory

We can wash our hands, but
he can not.

— Douglas Gilbert

You And Your Damn Global Warming Theories

Go away with your damn Global Warming theories.
Go bother the Chinese with their Gung Ho use of coal.

Go complain to them if you believe this nonsense about
man-made Global Warming.

Go get them to stop their CO2 if
you really believe your nonsense.

Go complain to the Chinese.
Leave us alone with your nonsense.

Go destroy their economy
if you must, but

we have two feet of snow
to clean up.

If you want to be warm
go to hell.

Politics is not science.
The UN is a lie.

http://bit.ly/1uuW2MK

Tell Me

Tell Me

Just tell me
tell me the day is warm

and I will wrap my memory on the sun
and I will remember your warm embrace, but

just let me remember the day
when we were together, and
I could smell you like a flower
and we cried because touching
was so gentle and kind, kind of like
love

— Douglas Gilbert

Essay by Ali Khamenei, Guest Author : Nuclear talks between Iran and the 5+1 Powers (Prose)

Nuclear Talks in Geneva Failure

[ The Supreme Leader of Iran has requested space on this blog for a short essay on the condition that I do not post a cartoon of him. Since I’m not a cartoonist, I have agreed to that condition. However, note that the opinions expressed here are only the opinions of the guest author. ]

Guest Author Essay

Nuclear Talks
    by Ali Khamenei
 The Supreme Leader of Iran

There were seven hours of tête-à-tête between Foreign Minister Mohammad Javad Zarid and US Secretary of State John Kerry. Although Kerry brought a violinist who played “Hearts and Flowers” and also translated, there was just the bumping of heads.

There seem to have been complications in the nuclear talks in Geneva, the Arrogant Ones popping the bubble of faux optimism until by January 18th, the propaganda splash lay on the ground like a moribund water balloon. We made a little list of centrifuges, but the Great Satan’s head kept spinning, and John Kerry would not employ an exorcist to remove the sanctions, nor would his translator put down her violin.

We do not see that John Kerry is willing to hold out an olive branch. He still has secret meetings with the wild dogs of the Zionist entity and oppresses our dear friends of Hamas in Palestine.

Foreign Minister Zarif has said Iran holds out a Medlar branch: The Islamic Republic is prepared to accept any agreement that respects the Iranian people’s Allah-given rights to Uranium atoms for peace, prepared to accept any document that will allow us to develop nuclear technology for peaceful purposes. When our Islamic scientists will have given us nuclear missiles, we will never use them to strike a human being, but we must be able to defend ourselves against wild dogs.

John Kerry’s obstinacy is like Medlar fruit: it must be rotted away before we can use him. The Great Satan and all other infidels are to be used and not loved. Once bletted of their arrogance they can submit to the cooking of a treaty.

— Ali Khamenei

Which Morning Shall I Remember (Draft 1)


Which Morning Shall I Remember (Draft 1)

6:18 and the production of me.
Maybe I don’t like me this new day.

I’ve got a claw on my
glass of whiskey and orange juice, and

I think like I might be alive, because
I remember I had so many dreams, and

I don’t mean the nightmares I have now,

no, I mean, I used to be human,
I used to sing, or I thought so.

If I fall asleep again,
I will have a nightmare.

I don’t think I ever want to sleep again.
I think I want to speak like a filibuster, because
I want to speak my heart as if

I mattered, a little

a little silly

sometimes I could dance
and sometimes I felt human

sometimes someone loved me
and I wanted to leap into the air
like I could fly and the angels
would catch me if I fell, but

there is nobody who ever
caught me when I fell

I just feel bruised, and
everything hurts more
and more

And it is not a recommenced
disease

— Douglas Gilbert

The Lamb Is Evil (Draft 1)

My Dead Family Doesn’t Believe in Religion

There are no moderates
when you kill my family for the prophet.

You have no honor, and your Book is a lie.

When the religious one broke into my full house
where we had a party, and
shot my child dead and every one else, I

did not mourn killing him
with a club I found, and
an instinct to hammer
him dead, and
strike him with a knife

and I found a chair to throw
and I found every weapon
I could throw, and
I held his dead body, until
the police put tape around
all my dear known friends
and I wanted to touch them
to make them come alive

because I knew them
I knew them
and my family was dead
for ideology

and now let me kill the radicals
again

I have another knife

Let me do it again and again….

No, go away police
I will stab him again
I will tear him apart,
in so many ways
I will kill him.

Oh I hate them so much.
Give me the breath to strangle each and every
without a trial

I can’t believe these murders

Don’t tell me
don’t tell me.

I will kill them all

Don’t tell me about mercy
or culture or religion.

This is not culture.
These are animals.
And I don’t want to hear about “moderates”.

— Douglas Gilbert

The Adventures of You (Draft 1)

The Adventures of You (Draft 1)

I told you not to go to the South Pole
because I don’t want you to freeze

But your freedom is dear to me
and you are so happy with adventure.

I want you to be
gleeful with a dog sled,
race with the wind.

I think the angels
will warm you, and
professor lover dear
I love your research
of life, of snow, and
of me.

I will tell your peers, that
they must publish your papers
in a Journal, just because

I say you are worthy
of truth, and
the data is glorious:

let them look, and
if they give you a prize

I will be ecstatic for you,
but as I gift you with me
I hope you’ll duck into
the cloak room at
the Noble Prize ceremony
and kiss me, because
I love your work

— Douglas Gilbert