Y’all, We Have Soccer Moms Trying To Ban Books

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Y’all, we have soccer moms trying to ban books
Wishing to shield things they don’t want you to know
But revolutions & thoughts just won’t burn
Intellect cannot be stopped, you merely make them slow

These fundamentalists get hot under the collar
When they see repression, they begrudgingly swoon
A weird fetish to extinguish ideas & desire
Appalled by anyone thinking of Love before noon

The censorious are coming for your hearts & minds
Seething with hate for anything silently inappropriate
Your Book declares thou with sin cannot cast thy stone
Minor scandals not so obscure when karma retaliates

Being fallacious isn’t as grand as it sounds
Yet, ya’ll out here in the streets committing slander
I refuse to pander to your anger & delusions
You’re just waiting to be shut in, unloved; smelling of dander

Do you ever find yourself lost within your misguided intent
I realize you’re genuinely hoping to shield the youth
But they don’t need your unfounded reservations
Nor do they respect your faulty judgement in hiding the truth

Please, cease & desist with your moral hubris
You’re foolish, stop before you fulfill the prophesies of 1984
You’re Orwellian without the perfect irony
But, you’re not ready to deal with the weight of evermore

Bradbury warned us about erroneous application of law
I can see we won’t keep our rights without a fight
Justice leading us into a deprivation of choice
You need to remember Jesus hung with ladies of the night

Within your imprudent latching, you’ve been misled
Matters not if you have delicate sensibilities, the Piper will get paid
I believe you to be rash, but I’m no one of any consequence
I may be deluded, but I believe you gotta get properly laid

I Fell Out Of Jerry’s Beard

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I fell out of Jerry’s beard
That trip was critical & weird

Pushin’ the limit in this life
Don’t confuse me with strife

Keep your learned looks
I’ll steal a trove of books

Answers come when they please
Send me back to sail the seas

I’ll dry off at the Westward Ho!
For it is still all who you know

In Defense Of The Outcasts & Weirdos

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In defense of the outcasts & weirdos
Those strange fellows who demand to be free
Exposing thought & sincerity to open air
To live one’s own life & forever reject conformity

Counting oneself amongst the abnormal
Involuntarily immersed in thought & deed
The action of creating poetic existence
For some days, that might be all we need

I Need To Escape The City Structure

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I need to escape the city structure
Retreat to a cabin up in the woods
Resolving quiet bouts of sensory overload
No longer at peace in these neighborhoods

Trying to exist without the constant ruckus
I may be no more than a sheep in wolf’s clothing
But I know I need something a bit tamer
To quell these times of depreciation & self-loathing

Times get weird; we must remain in our morals
Eventually we must draw a line in the sand
& to misquote the philosopher Chris Rock
I’m not saying the Unabomber was right, but I understand

Can We Puncture Our Transcendent Eyes

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Can we puncture our transcendent eyes
Feeling fantasies no one can understand
Trapped behind responsibility & expectation
Failing to grasp foundations as we planned

The difference in our souls transmit
Expounded by the beatings of our hearts
Revolutions begin when the cerebral are tired
But their might will never sever our parts

You cannot be weak if you’re truly weird
There’s no time for the molecules to rearrange
These burdens of an unimaginative society
Simply cannot fathom the depth of how you’re strange

I’m Not Worried What You Think Is Silly Or Weird

I’m not worried what you think is silly or weird
I’m not concerned with judgements nor opinionated chatter
The world exists outside any of my control
I refuse to change & become another useless natter


Let me continue on & be steadfast in being me
The strength of a persevering personality
Shining on with a decorous grin
Jaunting forth; shunning your beliefs in reality

Now That I’m Old…

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Now that I’m old, there’s no chance to be cool
I’m that creepy lurker passing the delicates isle
Finding myself lost in nebulous thought
Youth dropping their eyes while I try to smile

You can’t be friendly when you’re a certain age
Somewhere along the line, I missed my cue
Oblivious to the graffiti on the decaying walls
I’m slowly dying, more with each day that’s through

Stuck before I can be the wisened old fellow
Conversations with alter egos as I deliberate
Taunting life with my aggressive apathy
Father Time impatiently waiting for my cryptic fate

A litmus test for fragile character upon my days
Emerging from adulthood with wisdom in my head
Never again a victim to society’s whims
Pushing past expectations; my own hero instead

Rising higher than their own trite requirements
Still not accepted & still the silly old fool
Sketchy, weird & perpetually the outcast
Damn, there went my last chance to finally be cool