Blackhumouristpress's Blog

June 21, 2019

Game Face

Filed under: divorce,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 6:27 am
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I got a secret. Maybe you can see it in my eyes

I can’t you let you know there’s nobody on the other side of that wall. Ask me how she is and how’s it going. Can you see it in my eyes that it’s gone? Doing this crazy thing alone. Fool them when they ask. Make them think it’s like it should be. The way it is everywhere they go. Are you alone? What do you mean exactly. Sorry, no not at all. She’s beyond that wall and the kids are upstairs where you remembered them when they were young. How are you? How is it going? I’m not offended even though you don’t care. I look at you and know I can take the pain a lot longer than you. I’m stronger than you and can tighten up in the face of pain knowing that it won’t last forever. Somewhere over there where the sun tries to hide. Never bring down the flag. It’s a matter of pride. “Give my best to the kids and bride…” I’m on the island and I do not see a ship at sea. You’re out there too maybe a bit like me.

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June 5, 2019

From Canada to England

Tell my secretary to call Pierre. Tell her that I am going up there. I want to be courtside like Jack Nicholson to watch some hoops and rip the president.

 

“I want to apologize for everything…”

Pierre stopped Barack

as the woman began to sing, Oh Canada for the first time at an NBA final.

“Our people know all the words be it French or English.”

 

Speaking of English- Across the pond, carrying tariffs like a well armed sheriff.

“I like what you’ve done with this place, your majesty… You want to see a real palace? Come visit me… Nah, not that place in DC.”

 

The people on the streets stressed with the thought of Brexit. The British Trump looks poised to fix it. The mayor and various MP’s joined in with protest of the modern anxiety of this right winged Wehrmacht rolling across Europe from over seas.

 

Somewhere today on a beach far way, old men remember a truly hard day. They secured freedom and democracy. Nobody thinks to ask the elderly what they think of where we were and where we are today. And maybe it will always be that way.

May 29, 2019

Hold The Phone…

Filed under: america,cell phones,humor,humour,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 2:34 am
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I’ll take a picture of my food in exchange for validation. It’s make believe and I want you to believe everything is good and we’re happy. Ask any friend you’ve never met via the Internet.

 

Smile goddamit! This cost a fuck load and we’ve been on the road for ten hours passing Wall Drug, the Badlands just to see those presidents on a wall. And what’s it all for?

 

To feel as though there is purpose and direction as you jog on that treadmill of life to nowhere. Study hard and you’ll get somewhere you cannot stand to be with your jaded family. Your wife’s not listening, she’s on Instagram and the kids got the phone cam pointed towards them making duck lips and the peace symbol.

 

It’s all a symbol of misdirection in the age of technology and your phone knows the way. Your phone is your friend, the entertainment for the evening. You on the couch, her in the bed and when you sleep you can clear your head of all things you saw and all the things you read. There is so much out there for you to discover in life. Luckily it’s all on your phone.

April 28, 2019

Hold on…

Filed under: Eisenhower,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 5:37 am
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Say it out loud the things you think

It’s not what you think. Cache, hidden in the dark room, darling.

We’re dressed to impress. Make them think it’s something special like back in the day when we were going somewhere. Marlon Brando thin in black and white, I wore a tie to see a movie. You were there, did you see me? If I could just go back, I’d find you there. Leave this reality for a touch of nostalgia. Before cellular, Facebook and pictures of your kids. I was free, brown hair, penny loafers, top down rambling down the avenue- old was new. In 1985, I wanted 1955. I liked Ike in the era of Reagan. It was all in front of me back then instead of behind. I stand in front of a weeping window from the rain. I’ve tried hard to find the answers to it all in vain.

January 31, 2019

To Be or Not to Be

I’m really worried about baby turtles on the beach

Wringing hands hoping they’ll reach shore… TURN OFF THOSE LIGHTS! and there’s more

I want a salad with no meat, no cheese… Are you aware the animals are raised with disease? in pens… Those poor hens

Spotted owls, alligator boots and those that become fur coats

 

I’ll stand at the gates while some poor soul waits to be executed for what he did on bad days…Anyways murder is wrong and I wrote this song about the travesty of ending a human life.

 

Don’t call it abortion, that’s a contortion of every woman’s right. Speaking of right, we have the right to stop the right to re-write Roe when we lose Ruth Bader. There will once come a day when you have the say to arrest on a birthday to prevent the fat, red headed, special needs or gay.

 

It will be like 23 and me for what’s growing in me so don’t call it infanticide. I thank Albany for thinking of me and standing for all that’s right.

 

Speaking of right we need to fight those evil Nazi misogynists. The racist, Russian loving wall builders who separate immigrants from their children… Yes that’s the key… the children, right?

January 9, 2019

We Interrupt

Filed under: america,donald trump,humor,humour,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 8:17 pm
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We interrupt The Bachelor, Dancing with the Stars, The Khardasians and those texting in cars to bring you a message from the president… Not my president, there are no illegal residents, a New York precedent… It’s safe there and free, there’s no fee except to those at the tippy top who are moving their dough to the Caribbean, listing their homes and moving to Monte Carlo.

 

Raise your hands to block the kick, prevent the win to build a wall. We care too much for them all and after all, the future hinges on their vote. Please don’t quote me; it’s off the record, anonymous sources from the swamp. We hate Trump… We love Trump either way it’s a ratings boost for cable news and for whatever side you choose. And if you think you’re winning either way you lose.

September 22, 2018

Anything…

Filed under: poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 5:56 pm
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It’s been years since you watched a sunset
And saw the beauty of a day ending.
It’s normal to keep pretending when you make eye contact
In the rear view mirror, that the path and
Direction makes sense

Maybe others see what’s going on
And they’re at peace when they sleep
They ask you what do you want and what do
You want to be?  Where will you go?

Maybe there’s no truth
Maybe there’s no proof
Counting grains of sand for eternity
Treading water in a sea of futility
Consciously deciding things unconsciously.
What does it mean?  That maybe everything is nothing.

June 23, 2018

Mommy and Daddy Voted For Trump- A Kid Book

Children I know you heard that once upon a time that momma and daddy voted for Obama back in 2008. Things then were not so great. Back when you were just a tadpole in dad’s bag and we were trying to secure Baghdad. Eight years of hope. Eight more? Nope.
Along came a man with a strange tan down an escalator. He told your parents that life could be better. Against all odds, against all predictions at 10pm eastern came the revelation. The American Brexit was born.
Now Aunt Tilly, the one married to Milly, both believe in freedom of speech and democracy as long as they agree. They told your parents that they were stupid and silly and yelled, “you are dumb… Racist, sexist and straight up deplorable.” For your parents the thought was unbearable the idea of Hillary as president. No borders and permanent illegal immigrants. Free college and a government job for all and no need for borders, passports, fences or walls. North Korean bombs headed for Guam, Syria feeling little like Vietnam with no hope or plan for ISIS or the return of the Tailban.
They probably would never admit this out loud but they are proud that as a boy, you wear blue and like firetrucks and they quietly believe it sucks that their values are the enemy of Hollywood, the press and talk show TV.
Russian collusion, Mueller commission fishing for obstruction and mom and dad are just so glad about the economy and their 401K and the prospect that Korean missles might go away. What do they do? What do they say? Nothing out of fear of being yelled at, belittled, attacked and driven away. Oh and by the way… You better hide this book today. Aunt Tilly is on her way. I shudder to think what she’ll think or what she’ll say and that’s just how it is everyday.

May 11, 2018

Forward

Filed under: poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 2:32 pm
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He wakes and sees himself in the mirror, squints like Clint
“I’m the boy I’ve always been… am I too old? I still feel young.”
Life’s a curious thing, miles of road in the rear view mirror and a
dead end up ahead.  It’s not what you heard or what I said. You’ll
soon forget the lunch bags and red roses. The mundane day-to-day
measured in minutes He kissed her lips on a sunny day drove the baby
to where she had to go.  Just trying to get it right.  He wakes when
they’re sleeping, says nothing.  I’m not leaving; it’s just a walk and
a quiet talk to the relatives gone before him letting them know others
are coming.  Fading, fading into a deeper fog of a mind stuck on
reset.  Life’s cruelty is to forget and lose comprehension of where,
what and why.   Life’s a struggle; life is tough but better than the
man with the cup by the freeway.  He’s lived a bunch of years, does he
get more? He thinks the deepest thing might be love.   Memories of
homes and hearts searching for the light switch in the dark.  It’s
there.  You will find it.

April 5, 2018

The Truth…

Reading all the news that’s fit to print like Pravda- It’s true, I believe distortion, verbal contortions and I resist reality. Where I live I pay the taxes and raise my fist against the axis of President Aprentice and the GOP because you all have a right to live with me- give me the bill- It’s your right! That’s what I get for being white…
I’m thinking of moving to soviet California and hold a sign at the lower border. “Welcome… sorry for the English… I never learned another language.”
The weather today… stormy with a chance of Daniels. A sexual collusion and the conclusion by Anderson Cooper? Consentual with no protection- Maybe we need another special prosecutor… I recuse myself myself from the fluff.
Oh you’re worried about a nuclear war? That is what the generals are for… A Marshall Plan for Little Kim… The president and Dennis Rodman are going to meet him. Picture Bjork singing with a lot of delay, blue jeans and Bourbon and cigarettes on a sunny day. Chinese winning a nobel prize. America strong! And Chinese wise! TMZ at the DMZ- sound bite news for the ADHD… Fuck it… Put on the Khardasians.
Angst a blue and red state of mind. All we want is the truth… Like a weird German once quoted- “Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than lies.”

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