| POETRY by BOB BRINKMAN |
. |
| Fury Skinhead monsters in the night Beating “niggers” their one delight Drug dealers sell false hopes and dreams While junkies die with silent screams Children starve in the desert heat Televised on the news as we sit and eat Feel the fury Let it fill Be enraged Want to kill Hunt the monsters Haunt the pushers Feed the children Save your soul Lunatics kill the mad delight Bombed buildings burning in the night Cops beat suspects just for fun Rodney wasn’t the only one Parents slap children because they cry Scars children carry until they die Feel the fury Let it rise Let all see the rage Within your eyes Wage war on warmongers Gun down overzealous pigs Abuse til death the abusers Let your fury rage Raze down all the damn cities Return the all to Mother Earth Let the fury take you Down the road of our rebirth Time heals all wounds Nature builds the trees Mankind spills the oil While plankton cleans the seas Strip-miners rape our mother Laying the world to waste The fires within our souls Are begging for a taste… Of our Fury! Anarchy is the path To freedom’s hidden hall All for the self And the self for all Laws bind us to the unreal They keep us from nature For they are unnatural They keep us from reality By trapping us with morality Rage against the chains Slowly tapping our brains Scream as injustice breeds As evil fulfills it’s vile needs Rage against the machine Fight to preserve King’s dream Scarlet words on a blood drenched page Free the world…Release your Rage! |
| . |
| The Grail Plunging into darkness Unheeding of the consequences Searching for the Holy Grail To quench the deep thirst With a life giving drink Flaying and falling Through the air Hunting for the spark That keeps us looking In the dark |
. |
| Satan’s Sea Wind carries white-grey foam across Satan’s storm on the wine dark sea Proud schooner o’er raging sea rides Versus the harsh unfeeling tides Buffeted by the gale’s harsh breath Sailors struggle to keep her head Proud mainsails straining to withstand The dark storm’s cold remorseless hand Sailors call from above the deck Boldly working the sail’s riggings As the captain shouts out his hail While holding the quarterdeck’s rail The hold five feet and rising fast As the bilge-pumps strain without rest Men fighting against a devil’s dive Praying to keep themselves alive The mainmast cracks with thunder’s crash Backstays strain to hold broken spars By the board the splintered mast top goes Remaining lines give horrid blows Axes cut at protesting ropes While the wicked spar pierces home It strikes the hull with a crashing roar Her hull-breach like a gaping sore Cry out eight feet and still rising The crew’s last hopes are cruelly dashed They rush to gather what they can Panic stricken to the last man Feet racing across the floundering deck Praying that they are not too slow Crowding into ship’s boats to flee Satan’s storm on the wine dark sea |
| . |
| (A Toast) To Absent Friends To absent friends separated from us By distance, time, or death May they know that we honor them As we live and take breath We’ve not chosen to leave Such treasured friends behind And so we carry them With the power of the mind A toast then, to these Fondly remembered women and men Until someday, somewhere, somehow We’re blessed to meet again Kampai |
| . , |
| To Paradise To paradise By my forelock Taken directly home By a strong And loving God Coming to the Land of Milk and Honey Allah be praised! To paradise By my forelock Taken away from A cruel And hurtful world Leaving behind the Poisoned Garden of man Allah be Praised! |
TO MORE POETRY and LYRICS Poetry by Mallory Poetry & Lyrics by Kenny Kline The Haunted Poets |
| Lyrics by Jan McCall "That Old-Fashioned Mummy of Mine" Lyrics by Mallory & McCall "Bela's Tent" "Fishy Mermaid (adaptation)" |
| Songs with music by: Jan McCall "This is My Night to Howl" Mallory & McCall Original "Kings of the Sea" Adaptations: "We'll Rant and We'll Roar Like Bold Fighting Pirates" "Pirate Nancy Whisky" |
 |