Ode To The Alone Star State

texas

I forgot about the Alamo and I feel like shit
Bought some yellow roses to make up for it
Gimme some bluebonnet and sage brush too
When Y’all in Texas that’s just what you do

Thars a twelve year old bride not wearing white
The baby bump on her belly there is quite a sight
Thars a racist cowboy wearing snakeskin boots
Plus a ten gallon hat and a gun that shoots

Seems they carry guns bout wherever they go
So they can shoot a possum if it move too slow
Or maybe they bargain hunting with some live ammo
Guess that’s why tourist seasons so gol damn slow

Mmmm possum on the half shell sure sounds good
Cook the dead armadillo thar under the hood
So friggen hot the eggs they cook in the road
Add a bit of road kill n Yawl hit the mother lode

They leaves y’all a light on thar at motel six
They give ya clean sheets but got to shake it free of ticks
Went to the manager said “I got a leak in the sink”
He says “ Pee where you want son” n gave me a wink

The Texas cockroach bout a big as a kitten
Free dinner each night hope yawl like chitlin
Each room has a couch that was a cars backseat
The only television what works is in the bridal suite

Staying with a friend down at the trailer park
We sat down for a beer when he made this remark
“I think yawl aught a give me a round of applause
I married three times still got the same in-laws”

Waco -The Tower Sniper -The lone Star State
I best be leaving Galveston afore it get too late
Looking over all the pick-ups with a rifle rack
Be a hundred fifty years if even come back
Short sighted narrow minded Texarkana dream
NASCAR Monster trucks wrestling is supreme
My way or highway politics getting in the way
Of moving Texas forward much to our dismay

The try em and fry em state now uses noxious gas
The LGBT community call y’all the Big Tex-ass
If yer goal is fer you to separate I hope you will succeed
All that’s got to happen now is for alla yawl to secede

No hard feelings Texas, but seriously, lighten up a bit yawl, take yer shoes off and stay awhile. Love on another, even the ones that ain’t jus like you….Peace out Y’all

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Sex And Leverage

Da-Liar

Dermal switchblade
Dipped in lust
Ripping her nature
Phallic mistrust

Abject refusal
Pornographic fence
Gate swinging open
Seminal offense

Answer with doubt
Reply with a wound
Repetitive scarring
True love is doomed

Says she needs me
Closes the door
Clamping her vice
A visceral whore

Pierce with the blade
All the way in
Deliriously sated
Full to the brim

Lust is erotic
Pain can elate
Submissive reaction
Both numb and sedate

Surrender to hunger
Seeking gratification
Lust driven libido
Metaphoric castration

Satin and tears
handcuffs and lace
Squealing elation
Pleading embrace

Coital alignment
Feral sex lovers
Dance to a climax
Beneath satin covers

Clitoral indulgence
Penile attention
Erotic excitement
And sexual tension

Wanton sexplosion
Flames of desire
Simultaneous release
Bodies on fire

Banished emotion
Forbidden acts
Sex as a weapon
Eternal love pacts

The higher the climb
The steeper the fall
To climax is worth it
Heartbreaks and all

The Thrill In The kill II (Hunters perspective)

kill

Crouched in the shadows a spider in waiting
Fingers anxiously caressing my stiletto
A shape in the distance perhaps a young man
Can’t wait to slice his deep voice to falsetto

He senses my presence he’s looking about
I strategically gain spatial enclosure
He quickens his pace attempting escape
But I’m prepared to invest his foreclosure

Time to pounce and feel élan leave his torso
The zeal of his frenzy warming my soul
Right hand gripping tightly on my death stick
Left under his chin to gain surgical control

The first cuts the deepest it true what they say
But the second bears a dynamic elation
Warm blood is trickling across my knuckles
My heart pounding a glorious summation

Crimson life syrup spurting out from his neck
Filling my hands with thick sanguine mud
He gurgles out once a lame bloody protest
His death a canvas I paint with his blood

Evisceration elates me to orgasmic climax
I writhe in gratuitous anticipation
With lethal precision I slice flesh and bone
Sexual release with each deep laceration

Spin him around so I can view the departure
To watch life drain from his sunken blue face
Wildly my soul trembles a tune of ecstasy
Its almost done and my heart starts to race

Its over he’s dead paranoia setting in
Look around make sure no one can see
Gotta run away now before I get caught
Back to my bed where I bask in the glee

But when I arrive sick replaces my bliss
Vomit extinguishes the once lustful flame
Depression and revulsion will fill up my days
Until the next slaying can wash out my shame

The Thrill In The Kill I (Preys Perspective)

Night air quickly darkened so eerily uneasy
As I tread cautious along a tree lined path
Footsteps in the shadow pursue relentless
Tap out a caution of oncoming wrath

Heart pounds a warning-imminent danger
Perhaps a case of wrong place wrong time
In paranoia the pace of my stride it quickens
My destiny to fall victim of ominous crime

The shadow insists upon closing up the gap
Why am I about to face this stalkers fate?
I shouldn’t have traveled alone down here
What’s done is done and now its too late

My hunter is gaining quick his precious ground
Seconds seem to be ticking in heart pounding silence
I feel the motion from a pair of subversive arms
The killer’s poised to unleash bloody violence

Steel blade is cold against my quivering skin
Rips my flesh changing the ice to a burn
Warm streams of life trickle out from my neck
Sanguine copper taste makes my stomach churn

I can sense ultimate glee as he shreds through a vein
Can almost feel the maniacal menacing smile
His heart is a racing even faster than mine
I try to shout with a voice stuck in denial

Warm streams of plasma pours down my neck
Sap of my essence draining from beats of my heart
Pumping to the rhythms of a dying collective
But its the sheer panic that rips me apart

His breath hot and laborious sprays over my face
I’ve been posed for psychotic viewing pleasure
With wild eye yet empty meaningless smile
Watching my life run out is his reward of treasure

As I fall to the ground no muscles come to my aid
My abandoned body tumbles into submission
I feel ounces of vitality pooling out of my being
As I prepare myself for the ultimate transition

My mind is as blurry as the streaking in my eyes
Waiting for my life to get flashed across the sky
But I lay here stagnant as hope bleeds through
There’s nothing to do but accept I will die

A strange object is lodge in my throat
I cough to expunge a ball of bloody debris
Darkness sets in around the eyes of my world
Karmic retribution is all that’s left for me

I feel nothing now the pain and panic gone
Cant even hear the murderous creep
I have no time to think about life
Its…time…for…me…to…..sleep

Father and Son

ac dad

I’ve been called many things over the years, most of which were not meant to be complimentary, but when your own kids give you a nickname it most likely has meaning behind it. Now my son has had numerous names for me, again most not meant to be complimentary or to may face, but the one truly endearing name he called me was “My old man hippie Dad.” My boy was a typical son, lazy and rebellious, and I can’t say he never lifted a finger to help but in truth I wish it had been more than the middle one. And I had some rather uncomplimentary names for him as well, but the hippie dad was always said with love. He is very creative and a few days ago he upgraded my paternal status to “My Anti-Corporate Hippie Dad”. Now I’m not one for titles per say, but I must admit this one has a familiar ring to it. In fact it is the complete opposite of what my own Dad would have been, a big business company man. My Pops was an ultra-conservative father who believed big business was responsible for the great American dream and he toiled at his company until he retired.
Many times we become the opposite of our parents and I am definitely in that category. It started out as a rebellious stand but became my persona, my essence. I first grew my hair and donned bell bottoms and balloon sleeve shirts to piss him off but it rapidly became my lifestyle. This is mostly because all the politics and ideals my old man had were way too conservative and far too head up the ass-ish for me to latch on to. You know, the typical 50‘s mentality, the man is the head of his castle and the woman cooks, cleans, and tends to her “duties“. Now normally that would suggest sex, but I have four brothers and one sister so by my calculations my parents only had sex six times so my Moms duties were surely something other than sex. Otherwise, ewwww!! Anyway, acutely aware of what narrow mined principle I was raised on I attempted to instill in my son what I believe to be a fair, sensible and inclusive set of values to live by. I tried but my son ha some good rebel genes in him as well. I still remember the day I knew all my planting of peace love and understanding seeds would be in vain. My son, who once offered me rays of hope by rebelling with Mohawk hair dyed a fuchsia pink, wearing Anarchy tee shirts, and piercing places in his body I would never have considered came home one day wearing penny loafers.
“What the hell are those and where did you get them? What happened to your army boots and Converse?” My boy looked at me defiantly, “I’m getting an office job, I want to work in corporate.” He may just as well have ripped the heart out of my chest and kicked it like a hacky sack. My son wants to be a business man. Worse, he wants to be a big man in a corporate position. Where did I go wrong? I had attempted to give him the benefit of years of my own rebellions. I took him to his first rock concert when he was an eight year old playing Kriss Kross on his Walkman. We went to Giant stadium to see Faith No More, Guns and Roses, and Mettalica and it rocked his world. The change was instantaneous an I knew he was on the road to being cool. It worked out so well in fact we went to lots more shows together, lollapalooza, warped tour, all the time with his hair changing from pink, to green, to orange. I helped him put a ton of gel in his hair so he could have spikes. I pushed him into his first mosh pit, was with him for his first time crowd-surf during a Rancid show, and watched him thrown off the stage during The Ramones. It was a unique an enlightening father an son bond. I did everything I could to encourage him to embrace the idiosyncrasies of his generation the way I had mine. Except without a fight. My father and I came close to fist fights over my hair, my clothes, and my music and here this young lad is encouraged by his father. I just assumed with such a close relationship that we would have similar values. And what o I get in return? A son wearing penny loafers, wanting a three piece suit, and neatly trimmed hair. Was it just to piss me off? My father giving me Karmic retribution? Even worse, I never in my wildest imagination ever believed my own son would become a republican. I feel like I have failed as a father.
Okay, maybe I’m being a bit harsh on myself, in truth he has a very strong value system, he is very respectful of women, of minorities, and of people in general. He is a good man, a son any father can be super proud of. A fantastic father to his own children, a loving and supportive husband, and he calls up his old man a few times a week just to chat. We have a treasure chest of awesome memories that can keep us laughing all night, have similar tastes in food and drink, and in reality are very similar each other. Except when it comes to style and politics. Politics placed a huge wedge between my father and I so I was a bit concerned that it could effect my relationship with my son. But blood and love is so much thicker than political water and we found a mutual respect for each others opinion and don’t focus on the differences. I never wanted my son to follow in y footsteps because being a chef in reality is nothing like is seems watching Top chef. It’s a grueling non forgiving industry in which the small reward is knowing you have gone down a path not many can master. You really need to have your heart in it because restaurant life can strip[ you of your heart. I wanted my son to forge his own footsteps and he has, but not completely. After taking him under my wing and working him down to the ass bone he told me in no uncertain terms that he did not want to be a chef. I was relieved, we opened a bottle of wine to seal his promise. He went to college but to my dismay his training with me moved him up in the ranks at his part time job at Cheesecake factory. He used that to his advantage climbing not to the upper echelon of culinary commander but to the managerial hierarchy of the restaurant industry. He is now a general manager of a very prestigious restaurant and very happy. But he’s still republican!
The bottom line is we all have to be true to ourselves, to who we truly are and both my son and I have done that. He is a bit of a metro-sexual, having his hair and nails done, he dresses conservatively, has no more ear, nose or the piercing formally known as Prince rings (although on windy days he still whistles) but he is who he is and I respect that. We’ve always had strange names for each other, he was GI Joke, Schmedly, puke of Earl, I was the ol man who lives upstairs, Happy Hippie Dad, the parental units unit, and grounding master. But I’m proud that he’s my son, I’m proud that he has worked to achieve what he wanted, and I’m proud of who he is as a person. I’m also proud to have him call me Dad, but more than anything I now beam with pride when he calls me, “My Anti-Corporate Hippie Dad”

The Thrill In The Kill

kill

Night air quickly darkened so eerily uneasy
As I tread cautious along a tree lined path
Footsteps in the shadow pursue relentless
Tap out a caution of oncoming wrath

Heart pounds a warning-imminent danger
Perhaps a case of wrong place wrong time
In paranoia the pace of my stride it quickens
My destiny to fall victim of ominous crime

The shadow insists upon closing up the gap
Why am I about to face this stalkers fate?
I shouldn’t have traveled alone down here
What’s done is done and now its too late

My hunter is gaining quick his precious ground
Seconds seem to be ticking in heart pounding silence
I feel the motion from a pair of subversive arms
The killer’s poised to unleash bloody violence

Steel blade is cold against my quivering skin
Rips my flesh changing the ice to a burn
Warm streams of life trickle out from my neck
Sanguine copper taste makes my stomach churn

I can sense ultimate glee as he shreds through a vein
Can almost feel the maniacal menacing smile
His heart is a racing even faster than mine
I try to shout with a voice stuck in denial

Warm streams of plasma pours down my neck
Sap of my essence draining from beats of my heart
Pumping to the rhythms of a dying collective
But its the sheer panic that rips me apart

His breath hot and laborious sprays over my face
I’ve been posed for psychotic viewing pleasure
With wild eye yet empty meaningless smile
Watching my life run out is his reward of treasure

As I fall to the ground no muscles come to my aid
My abandoned body tumbles into submission
I feel ounces of vitality pooling out of my being
As I prepare myself for the ultimate transition

My mind is as blurry as the streaking in my eyes
Waiting for my life to get flashed across the sky
But I lay here stagnant as hope bleeds through
There’s nothing to do but accept I will die

A strange object is lodge in my throat
I cough to expunge a ball of bloody debris
Darkness sets in around the eyes of my world
Karmic retribution is all that’s left for me

I feel nothing now the pain and panic gone
Cant even hear the murderous creep
I have no time to think about life
Its…time…for…me…to…..sleep

Reach For The Stars, The Cosmic Journey Of A Colony

evo

Special thanks to Tom Tricarico for his assistance and inspiration

High in the arbor of an uncertain world
Rose a climbing presence flourishing with life
In a foreboding dark world a strategy forms
A group safe as the many but alone facing strife

Climbing down from the timber to test the dirt carpet
Searching the mysterious terrain unexplored
A new form of existence was emerging this planet
A congregation that would not soon be ignored

Crouching upright they stood so proud and so strong
Pounding their chests to display domination
They constructed utensils to further their lot
Set forth across the earth a strong new nation

The community formed with an instinctive brigade
Queens and masters the lords and the troops
The province grew stronger though inter-dependence
A reverent colony born of many small groups

Living only in the moment with no questions asked
Enjoying the banality of their routine existence
But a wisdom of framework began to emerge
As they traversed migrations of distance

Pragmatic utensils to build and to hunt
Their bipedal civilization was evolving so strong
From primitive grunts communication matured
Transcribed throughout many a ritual and song

Curiosity remained limited inside the tribal box
Rarely placing importance past the colony’s concerns
But somewhere inside their questions ascended on high
With both minds and hearts they pondered their yearns

A destiny waiting to spread over every expanse
The world seemed it was ripe for the taking
But down every path new conflicts ensconced
Other tribes and ferocious predators lie in waiting

Often times the hunter becomes another hunters prey
Survival of the fittest became the mandate of land
Many pitfalls and perils lay waiting unnoticed
Unperceived colonies would destroy those outmanned

For the good of all tribes boundaries would form
Arbitrary lines drawn to claim regional rights
Defending their new sense of territorial dominion
Millions would die from their purposeless fights

As the powers grew stronger curiosity developed
They dreamed up toward the star speckled ceiling
Wondering what significance the glitterings held
The ball of fire they worshipped while kneeling

Religions transpired from the fear of unknown
Flags began waving to represent their devotion
Revolutions in farming translated to power
Building empires spanning across every ocean

Industry soared as human progress continued
Armaments of destruction would threaten the planet
Too many died protecting meaningless banners
Thanked with their names etched deep into granite

Curiosity returned to the distant starry night
Manifest destiny would reach for the moon
Brilliant minds toiled together to develop a ride
Believing their world will come to end soon

Technology soared into global connections
Population grows logarithmic in rapid expanse
The planets resources began to rapidly dwindle
Colonizing the cosmos will be their last chance

Upward the skies they soared out into space
Searching inter-planetary cosmic migration
Traveling the galaxy for a suitable home
To pioneer their exoplanet colonization

The colony now that once was naïve
Concerned only with day to day living
Constructs cyborgs and drones to further their lot
In the hope of extra-terrestrial Thanksgiving

Support the troops by posting on Facebook

eit

An Editorial
Support the troops! What a noble sounding statement, placed on bumper stickers, made into memes with waving flags, and posted on the walls of patriotic facebookers everywhere. People want everyone to know that they support the troops but is it for the soldiers or to make them feel good about themselves? On patriotic holidays their walls are cluttered with statements accusing the rest of us of not remembering the real reason for the holiday, how we should thank the soldiers for their sacrifices. So what that it? Hey man thanks for risking your life, it was an honorable thing to do. Here, take this thanks and a big boorah to you soldier. I’m sure that when they are in the middle of a firefight those thank you’s save their sanity. Do you truly want to show support for the troops? How about supporting them with something a bit more tangible than “Thanks for your service”. Help them acclimate back into society with more than a slap on the back and a thank you.

In my existential an humble opinion the most appropriate and effective way we can thank the troops is to SHOW them. Show the troops that we do not take for granted the freedoms and liberties they fought for. Let them come home to a sane world where the theory of democracy, the belief that everyone has equal rights, racially, culturally, religiously, and socially, is fully intact. A system in which everyone can be involved in the proposal and development of laws. You know, a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. Instead they come home to see our congress fighting each other over petty posturing, and debates devolve into character assassinations, and the preponderance of their work pointing fingers at the other side in media photo ops. We need to work together to pass sensible legislation designed to keep us free and safe. I was truly hopeful at one point that we would pass sensible gun laws. Can you honesty tell me you believe our troops put their lives on the line and withstood the horrors of war so any half witted ass clown can own an automatic rifle with enough rounds of ammunition to decimate a towns population? We have stricter laws for our automobiles than we do for guns. And please stop with that ridiculous guns don’t kill people, people kill people crap defense because I could say the same for hand grenades or bazookas. Should every American have the right to own a hand grenade an use it if they feel threatened? I’m not saying no one should own a gun, but is it too much to ask that the owner act responsible? Show the troops that the country they are fighting for cares about its own people, and will not tolerate the streets being filled with maniacal twisted sociopaths who watch and plan as other killers, citizens, gain notoriety in the media. Yes if they are going to kill they will find a way shouldn’t we make it harder for them to arm themselves rather than easier? And what if legislation only saved a handful of lives? Believe this, if one of the lives save was your own child it would be a hugely significant handful an you would be thankful for sensible gun control. Truthfully I worry this may never happen, if the cold blooded murder of elementary school children hasn’t effected the laws to protect then there is little hope that the big businesses that influence and own congress will ever place human life above profit. But lets not stop trying, our children deserve more than we have been able to provide them. Just asking for sensible legislation, not abolition.

How about supporting the troops by cleaning up our own messes at home. They return from a foreign country helping to rebuild that country and come home to bureaucracies preventing basic affordable healthcare, streets littered with garbage, people killing each other in the street and in the schools, crime everywhere, people beating each other up over lifestyle choice, or religion. In other countries the troops witness home being destroyed, families torn apart, villages bombed, or gassed, then come home to a bunch of haters hiding behind the American flag proclaiming how patriotic they are while they deny basic human rights to people they feel don’t fit into their concept of what American means. Quit hiding your hatred behind a flag or a god. Its not being “American” to pass laws allowing you to shoot others if you feel threatened. Its not patriotic to deny that the world climate is changing and continue to support businesses that are destroying our environment. Its not pleasing god to hate gays or lesbians, maybe give them a beating in the name of Jesus. Its not dissing god to believe the proofs that science place in front of us. You want to believe in god you still can, but don’t exploit your ignorance genes by denying the truth, incorporate it. What the Hell, maybe god created evolution, maybe his days lasted a million years. Incorporate the truths into your religion and move on, don’t use it as an excuse to judge others, to prosecute others, celebrate your religion as all inclusive and love filled, not hate filled your gonna burn in hell for all time if you don’t believe in my faith!

If all you want is for all your friends and family to know how much you support the troops and love your country superficially then go ahead, post it all over your wall, put it on a bumper sticker to proudly display on your car. Honk if you support the troops. Hell man, get a damn American flag tattoo on your forehead if you want, but as far as I can tell the very best way to support our troops is to welcome them home, listen to their stories, assure them prompt medical attention, work to pass sensible laws that reflect what sacrifices they have endured, and work and strive hard every day for peace so that we can tell the troops no more of our American kids will be forced to endure the horrors of war like they did. Again, just The Existential Bakers opinion. PEACE

An Ode To What Is Owed

bill

They come by snail mail every day
And in emails to my phone
They even call me on my cell
They wont leave me alone

I get so anxious at their threats
I reach for calming pills
Relentless chases every day
Those neverening bills

Bills bills bills
That all I ever get
Bills bills bills
Aren’t they over yet?

Bills bills bills
Everyday a threat
Bills bills bills
Keeping me in debt

Even my kids will suck me dry
they pluck my wallet clean
C’mon pops I need some cash
I’m their ATM machine

Credit, debit, cash, or check
How can I pay today
Everybody wants my money
Make them go away

Bills bills bills
Pouring like a flood
Bills bill bills
The Man is out for blood

Bills bills bills
Piled up at my door
Bills bills bills
They’ll take my life for sure

Car payments mortgage payments
Electric bills and gas
Sales tax and income tax
They even tax my ass

Collection agents , IRS
Both federal and state
Mortgage was refinanced with
An unfair interest rate

Bank fees, home repairs
so many bills I’m seething
Late fees and penalties
Plus extra cause I’m breathing

Bills bills bills
Getting bigger all the time
Bills bills bills
Think I’ll have to turn to crime

Bills bills bills
Maybe I’ll rob a bank
Bills bills bills
I can hear the handcuffs clank

Every time I turn around
Someone’s hand is out
Looking for my money
There just ain’t none about

Insufficient funds again
Better find another bank
have no money to start anew
And only bills to thank

Bills bills bills
In such a giant pile
Bills bills bills
They rob me of my smile

Bills bills bills
Creditors want a lot
Bills bills bills
Can’t give what I don’t got

Cashier’s keep acting all sarcastic
Don’t be so unkind
Maybe you should pay in cash sir
Another card declined

Politicians want my money too
They hang around and linger
They tell me I should lend a hand
But all they gets my finger

Bills bills bills
The death of me yet
Bills bills bills
I’ll never be free of debt

Bills bills bills
Make me drink till I get blotto
The only way I’ll pay my bills
Is if I hit the lotto

Happy Father Day to all you other ATM Dad’s out there

Dark Pasenger

dark

Stealthily crouched in the crevice of my mind
Growing confidently stronger time after time
Gorging itself on self hatred and doubt
Remains silent to others in an esoteric shout

His pursuit is to shape my existence to one of misery
Loading up dark thoughts to take away my liberty
Hitched a ride into my thoughts while I was driving blind
His hands across my ego as he choked it from behind

An evil manifestation of my disappointments and my fear
Enticing self effacement every day of every year
Constantly reminding the lowly failure I’ve become
I’m a counterfeit copy echo, a stinking lousy bum

When finally I reach the apex of a satisfied happy smile
I feel him growing anxious to convert my manner vile
Teasing me and taunting till I’m full of restless doubt
Planting dark suspicions letting paranoia sprout

“Why does she always strut about in such revealing attire
She’s probably already cheating boy you know that she’s a liar
Look at the two of them over there so happy and so gay
Maybe plotting a rendezvous at a motel far away”

“She smiles every time he’s near him, anywhere that’s close
Behind your back complains to him how you are so morose
She’ll surely be making love to him don’t know where or when
Every single one of your lovers cheated in the bed other men”

A haunting constant reminder of all my past day deeds
He teases and taunts me while planting wicked seeds
I’m gullible I’m stupid, I’m repugnant and so ugly
He convinces all too easy while smiling at me smugly

He never shuts up never stops keeps stabbing at my pride
Plunging deep his evil doubts till they’re deep down inside
Raising my self loathing while lowering all of my esteem
Convinces me how worthless is this loser slug supreme

The suspicions that he feeds me are all just in my head
But to me its real and its all too true everything he’s said
I’m a faker and a phony just an unproductive excuse
From all I’ve done from all I am I deserve his foul abuse

I want to be rid him from my head I need to thrown him out
I can’t live my lifelike this always drowning in self doubt
Need to form a strategy to silence the treacherous voice
When the passenger is finally dead is when I will rejoice

Because each day seems like torture, each day is a fight
I spend most my waking hours trying to get my head on right
I struggle hard to silence all his omnipresent pestering
Pray I don’t act on the puss of darkness that is festering

People joke about the voices in their head but those voices are quite often our own thoughts out of control and they can seem real and intimidating. It’s easy to tell someone “just ignore it and it will go away” but its not always that easy. Society sets so many high bars for us to live up, body image, athletic ability……… it can create a vortex of self doubt and low self esteem. We as parents or friends are also teachers, and one of the most important lessons we can teach is for our children to believe in themselves, but to do that we need to first believe in ourselves. Peace.

Ode To Australia

ode

At’s one beaut of a vegemite sandwich
Said the smiling man from down under
Never toss an insult to the men at work
Dissing Oz would be a right drongo blunder

We got some onions bloomin in the outback
The barbies ready for a few more shrimps
Ats naught a noife mate iss is a noife
Australia ain’t no bloody place for no wimps

Threw me boomerang hard about a week ago
Think I saw the bloody thing just last night
With me Sheila on my arm and Joey in the yard
Chinwag bout either and you’ll end up in a fight

Because all of us Aussies we are Foster kids
That’s just the way that we like to guzzle beer
We value our bronzer mates and we give a fair go
Australian’s ain’t nothing if not humble and sincere

Me rellies got kangaroos loose in the top paddock
While me Koala she chews on a eucalyptus leaf
Maybe it was a Dingo what took your baby
Maybe she’s swimming in the Great Coral Reef

Chillin on Sydney Harbor at the opera house
Or in Tasmania for the devils crazy thunder
Just beware of the stinging of the jelly fish
In the marvelous myteries of Down Under

No worries mates, we love you heaps Australia, you’re a bunch of fair dinkins Aussies