A letter to the U.S. Congress, you bunch of dimwits

Dear Congress of the United States of America,
Yeah, you who begged for money to be hired,
What happened on your self-righteous trip to DC,
In what lobbyist cesspool are you now mired?

Is it just that you are lazy self-indulgent egotists,
Or a bunch of incompetent party hack tools,
Do you think you’re at a Halloween masquerade ,
Dressed as monied special interest banker ghouls?

Hey, I’m talking to you mob of politico dodos,
You’re burning up my hard earned tax cash,
People and families are suffering in our country,
Get to work, get off your partisan fat…er, ah, ash.

Does plutocracy ring your green back bells,
Or, have you forgotten about your nation’s need,
Does political party-line mean more than the voter,
Well then, we know from which slop trough you feed.

Where is your brain, what are you doing to us,
Has power, greed, and emotion taken our place,
Does the one percent now represent America,
Their campaign contribution the smile on your face.

When it comes down to your bottom-line,
There is only one thing that really rings true,
All those big dogs in this greedy indifferent world,
Have bought and paid for our congress, that’s you.

©2011, Donald Harbour

Who Will Kill Freedom

When a young man stood still,
To stop a tank on Tienanmen Square,
Did you stand up and cheer,
Did you protest with him – did you care?

When a young girl is gang raped,
In the silent violent Darfur night,
Do you feel her pain – her shame,
Do you shout at your leaders this is not right?

When a nation values truth and justice,
Then tortures a captive in a concrete cell,
Where were your values of honor,
Where were they as the nation descends into hell?

When you look at your image in the mirror,
What is reflected there that grasps your mind,
In the light of reason – the path of light,
Has it so dimmed that to reality you are blind?

When the newspaper white washes wrong,
Casting half truths on pages printed with soy ink,
Must you use it to wrap odious fish offal,
Or does the smell of their craft already stink?

When your leaders carp about their party,
The same words that Stalin and Mao once used,
And the Constitution is cast aside,
Are you with patriotic indignation infused?

When we become the animals in the chute,
Stumbling to a slaughter house Democracy,
We will draw the knife across freedom’s throat,
Held in the hands of our own hypocrisy.

Copyright: 2008, Donald Harbour