Today

Today

 

The Palace and the tax office are rent asunder

And the dogs and swine lord it over the corpses

And the officials are queuing for the first flight out

And the Palace and the Tax Office are rent asunder

Yeah verily the Palace and the Tax Office are rent asunder

 

And Papa Doc smiles from the beyond

And the undead rise and their places filled by the newly dead

And the lunatics are delivered from the asylum

And Papa Doc smiles from beyond

Yeah verily Papa Doc smiles from the beyond

 

And the fundamentalists call upon the bible

For lo they did wreak it on themselves

And their devil worship did spawn many awful films

So the fundamentalists call upon the bible

Yeah verily the fundamentalists call upon the bible.

 

The laughter of the racketeers pervades the forest

For it is an ill wind that does not blow someone some good

With the price of rice and peas already soaring

So the laughter of the racketeers pervades the forest

Yeah verily the laughter of the racketeers pervades the forest.

 

Humphries is struggling with the answer

How do we reconcile this to a merciful God?

The Archbishop has no problem with the question

But Humphries is struggling with the answer

Yeah verily Humphries is struggling with the answer.

 

The Palace and the tax office are rent asunder

And the dogs and swine lord it over the corpses

And the officials are queuing for the first flight out

And the Palace and the Tax Office are rent asunder

Yeah verily the Palace and the Tax Office are rent asunder.

◄ Having a shower after watching the news headlines

Lines written in theTudor House on the 30th Anniversary of the death of John Lennon ►

Comments

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pascal.desmond@me.com

Thu 28th Jan 2010 14:49

Hi Dave
You've written a very fine poem about the interesting times we live in.
Pascal

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Beulah

Sat 16th Jan 2010 16:26

if stars were awarded this is a five star-where I would pleasant abide awhile.

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Beulah

Sat 16th Jan 2010 16:24

milton loves you too. and yea satire and but truth; requiem and historical record; and the tongue is somewhat in the cheek.

take it to the churches let them sing--hallelujah the bible holders; take it to the rapper, let them wrap it in dollars; take it to a registry let them register the rhythm, the drum beat of the funeral maarch. But let us not cry, for to cry would be to profane.
beautifully done.

i am being so 'blessed' today reading all you poets, you artists that know.

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