A Poem by the Monkey


Protect and Serve


White supremacists all around

Then I felt something

I looked down at a child

He was tracing the outline

of himself in the shield.

The child looked up.


He doesn't realize the power of his suit.

The others looked in awe

He looked back

Continued to outline himself


No one is born racist

They are just exposed to it

But it's still our job to

Protect and Serve

No matter the cost



Charlie Roberts
April 2018


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Do not go gentle into that good night

Ok, so Dylan Thomas was not exactly writing about what I am about to pontificate on but it is germane to this week's post. Back in early 1980’s Poppa Jeff turned 40 and had a birthday party with a friend of his, Alan Wilson, who happened to have his birthday on the same day. Alan was disappointed that his name wasn’t Brian, as he really just wanted to lie in bed, however he came to the party anyway. I remember being downstairs watching a movie about some Austrian painter with a stupid mustache topping himself (he seemed like quite a douchebag) whilst the ‘adults’ partied upstairs. The standard attire seemed to be suits or sports coats, ties, dress shirt etc and the men dressed the same :) A belly dancer turned up at one point, there was the obligatory gift of a walking cane and the boisterous singing of 'Life begins at 40' by Dave & the Dynamos echoed through the house. Evening finished with the smoking of cigars and a sherry or port depending on your fortified wine o...
Read more

The American Idol complex

And I am not talking about the big commune of yurts where they keep the past winners. I am talking about what I like to (as of today) refer to as The American Idol complex pertaining as to how sometimes people need to be told the truth and often it is the people closest to them that fail in doing so. The only person who told the truth was that annoying English git in his tight V-neck shirts. The truth will set you free No, this is not a sermon from the mount but I often use that phrase. However, I do know that I am also guilty of not always telling the truth to avoid upsetting others but that is not what The American Idol complex is. Well what is it then? The American Idol complex (and trust me, I have played a Doctor on stage so I know what I am talking about) is where good meaning but badly executed praise is heaped on someone who should not have praise heaped on. It was amazing in the early episodes of American Idol how many tone deaf, talentless people turned up to...
Read more

Everywhere you go, always take the weather with you

You know, it’s funny where I get inspiration to write this drivel. I’ll tell you this much for free, writing this crap is not easy, but my adoring fan (thanks Mum) is ever demanding for new and improved posts (usually with less swearing) so I have to keep my fan/Mum happy. Also The English Major doesn’t do fuck all on Poets Day anyway so the 5 minutes he spends checking my posts are the highlight of his day. Anyway, back to this week’s inspiration, a Crowded House (famous Kiwi band, not from the prison colony even though they might claim them – and Phar Lap) song. Why is it this week’s inspiration? I have no idea. It just popped into my head the other day during an opium induced haze and stayed there. The other day I was at a trade show in the safe zone known as San Fran, City by the Bay, home of the 50 th  Super Bowl (sort of as the stadium is nowhere near town any more) and a close personal acquaintance of mine, let’s call him Mr Pelaez (really need to update your Linked...
Read more