For The People
This is for the people
Locked inside their head…
Living in a jail cell
Without a piece of bread…
This is for the people
Who can't express their pain…
To them the world looks vicious!…
And a desperate act seems sane…
Watch them writhing in the spill…
Stretching with the oils…
Twisting while the faces bleed…
Mixed with bits of soil…
This is for the homeless
That are dying and ignored…
That cold eyes cease to recognize
As we stress to make our score…
Humanity is in our eyes…
Humanity’s in theirs…
There is no us and them at all…
And no one will be spared…
If you find any chance to shine
And pass around your light…
There could be a place for you
Somewhere in this night…
This is for the missing ones…
Once captured in mad lust…
This is for the bodies piling…
Eyeballs in the bush…
Living in the echo halls…
This is for the dead…
This is for the yesterdays…
The endings that we dread
Find me in the masquerade…
See me in the show…
We are watching scenes in wax…
Knowing what we know….
This is for the people
Locked inside their head…
Living in a jail cell
Without a piece of bread…
This is for the people
Who can't express their pain…
To them the world looks vicious!…
And a desperate act seems sane…
3/22/25
Bunny Villaire
Strung Together With String
Strung together with string...
A inaudible thread of foreign dialogue...
An undercurrent of echoes...
The plays the thing
On the TV screen...
...But music lives outside this suicide,
And breathes into our hearts and minds...
Saw you snuffling moss underneath a log
In a forest somewhere,
Your soft tail lifted as you
Inhaled the pine tinged air
With careful elegance...
You are a transcendental creature...
My Miracle, we are so very gifted
To have nature and these
Multitude of trees...
Everywhere...At our finger tips...
...And in a moment lost forever
If the criminal we call our president
Takes liberties...
Sets boundaries...
Draws lies in sand that become our
Future truths...
Please don't allow the factories,
And the greed hungry billionaires
To tear our forests down
For absolutely no reason...
Besides their arrogance and lack of
Grace and social skills...
There has to be a way to sing!...
Sing a truth that will shake mountains...
Sing a truth beyond what money can buy...
Sing a hundred borrowed sighs
From the caverns of our collected thoughts...
If we say it...it becomes a living thing...
If we live it we can finally face ourselves in the mirror
With the string that we've fine tuned...
Musically we become immune
To the sickness of our age...
Strung together with string...
Living out our finest
Self while brilliant
Recipes of light
Ignite the dark sky overnight...
And bring us back to where
The heart pulse beats
Beneath the living fertile soil...
3/12/25
Bunny Villaire
Edit #2
When Bonnie’s Off To Work
When Bonnie’s off to work it breaks
My heart just like a stone…
Cuz deep inside I realize
That every man’s alone…
And if each man’s an island then,
My hen must be Loch Ness…
I see her so informally
It causes me distress…
Aye, when she finally surfaces
It’s like a sweet sunrise…
Invigorates teutonic plates…
Beglamours ancient eyes…
She’s by my bink…She’s on the brink…
She’s coming up fur air!…
The black frost of my birk’s so wide…
Her gaze is long and fair!…
Like Cairngorm that’s baked in sun…
Alas she’s gone to tide!…
I doubt I see bricht face so long…
A tishie fur my pride!…
When Bille’s at the dock, bass cocks
Will crane an shift they necks…
As deep inside I ’ave espied
Each wank in time collects…
And half a lady fine as I
May be his work time bit…
Raises strain to cause brak skin
Bidden of more spit…
Mislaid boots darken my door
When will he busk my way?…
So shirley ill need brandy soon…
It’s by mysel I stray…
He’s by my bink…He’s on the brink…
He’s coming up fur air!…
The black frost of my birk’s so wide…
I feel his longing stare!…
Like Cairngorm that’s baked in sun…
Alas he’s gone to tide!…
He burns my howk when he is gone…
A tishie fur my pride!…
When Bonnie’s off to work it breaks
My heart with crashing farce…
She cannot see the state of I…
She’s fallen off my carse…
And though she’s just a mile away
She’s gone to her awerd...
As down I plummet gracelessly,
A waly to the bards…
With one eye on my watch and all
The thunner overhead,
It’s hard to think an that, an that
With my poor Bonnie dead…
She’s by my bink…She’s on the brink…
She’s coming up fur air!…
The black frost of my birk’s so wide…
Her gaze is long and fair!…
Like Cairngorm that’s baked in sun…
Alas she’s gone to tide!…
I doubt I see bricht face so long…
A tishie fur my pride!…
Edit #2
3/6/25
Bunny Villaire
(Help from Alex Newton on inspiring a few lines)
Slip Into a Salty Sea of Consciousness
Catholic school. The uniforms. The weight of our parents expectations. The silence we were expected to keep to preserve the atmosphere of the fear of God, and the petrified respect of ages; mirrored in the carved wall art of saints and their stages of struggle depicted in the stain-glass windows haunting us from above. All of us students had received the 'Body of Christ' and were all dutifully praying in our designated kneelers as the priest ushered the homeless in for the first time I had been aware of in my experience. One after another, these humble shabbily dressed souls received the bread from the Priest, until one black man with kinky hair and a crinkled up smile exclaimed:
"Damn, this shit taste like Ritz crackers!"
It echoed like a smack in the face, down the pews, and off the waxed wooden walls of St. Andrews church. It wasn't necessarily true; the taste of the Eucharist was more like a stale, papery potpourri, but it needed to be said to snap us out of the leaden shackles of our habitual ritual. The response was immediate. We all burst out laughing.
Years after this experience I began to taste the granules of cracker in my mouth; the buttery texture, the satisfying crunch, but also the undercurrent of salt that permeates so much through the thread of American snack food.
I would taste this cracker themed concoction always as an introductory signifier of a waking nightmare where I would be cruising through a maze of sorts and suddenly be alarmed by a scream that would be blood-curdling, morphing into a high pitched laugh that would evolve into a fear-inducing scream again. This anxiety ridden experience would quite often culminate with an anxiety attack that froze me in a state of terror where I was stricken with the undeniable feeling where at any moment someone was going to walk into my bedroom, (when the experience happened to occur in my bedroom)and murder me on sight. The final phase of this mind fuckery would be when I would promptly vacate my body in an uninhibited out of body experience. This began happening with enough regularity that I began arousing and adding kindling to the cycle of nightmarish sensation. I began to revel in the taste of the cracker and become excited when the fits would begin to possess me; inciting these mysterious cerebral states.
2/28/25
Bunny Villaire
The Depleted Vacuous Mail Slot
There's a wormhole in every
Child's smile...
There are broken networks
That we have defiled...
There's a planet spinning
Right off of it's track...
All the robber barons
Would never look back...
Now the whalers have us
On our side...
While the light is draining
From the pregnant skies...
They are flaunting forceps...
Drooling our fate...
While they tear thru tendons...
Throw paper plates...
Did we dream is differently...
So wrong?...
I can hear the night bird's
Stolen song...
I can feel the Puma's eyes
Rescind...
As I twist like autumn
Leaves in the wind...
Am I swollen with fibers
From desolate worlds?...
While the flesh for the Pharaoh
Burns down as it curls...
All the Autumn descending,
And eluding sight...
There's an eddy in upswing
Of my scalding sight...
There's a wormhole in every
Child's smile...
There are broken networks
That we have defiled...
There's a planet spinning
Right off of it's track...
All the robber baron's
Would never look back...
2/28/25
Bunny Villaire
Edit #3
See How They Make The Sausage...
They aim to easy bake
A tasty incentive
So while consuming shit
We'll call it 'vanilla'...
When they serve up glass
Ground up into pieces
We take their Parfait of
Promises Betrayed and
Quickly slurp it down,
With labored eyes weeping...
...Their philosophy is flawed
From the very making...
We've grown immune to drugs
They think we are taking...
The sequence came unplugged...
The future's uncertain...
The shammy Wizard can't
Hide behind his curtain...
They syncopate our time...
...Designer diversions...
Like hamsters in a cage
All kept on a treadmill...
The walls have ears and teeth...
We're sold back our head space...
Just like a Christmas wreath...
This yoke on a slave ship...
That wallpaper retreats
It's revealing sores...
..Their philosophy is flawed
From the very making...
We've grown immune to drugs
They think we are taking...
This sequence came unplugged...
The future's uncertain...
The shammy Wizard can't
Hide behind his curtain...
...And on and on they bait
Traps where we're sleeping...
We wake to sniff the pie...
And jump to attention!...
Pearls of desire ripe
Like flowers on our lips...
...Regrettably the payoff
Is the Mickey they slip...
...While in a doped out state
All our treasures laid bare...
...Their philosophy is flawed
From the very making...
We've grown immune to drugs
They think we are taking...
The sequence came unplugged...
The future's uncertain...
The shammy Wizard can't
Hide behind his curtain...
2/23/25
Bunny Villaire
Edit #2
The Multitude
I see millions of eyes glued
To their own device with
The flames reaching up
To the sky!…
As all of us strangers think
There is no price
For belittling
The God inside…
There's a squealing of brakes,
As the fertile ground shakes,
While another log's thrown
On the fire…
When our curse is immortal
Show me where’s the next portal…
I've gone daffy from
Spinning my tires…
Can you hear the buzz-buzz
Of the insect parade?...
We've got flies eyes for fashion
On this sexual stage
While the whole world threatens
With her built in alarms
To cast us adrift with
Our nuclear arms…
Yes there's poison in streams
That we drink without thought,
And the cosmic incision
Is cutting us off
Like a bar tab that's lingered
For too long unpaid…
We'll be counting our losses
After hearts are betrayed…
How many times were we
Tricked at the polls
By the promise of change
Where the message went south?...
Why do we keep spending
Our precious allotments
Scrutinizing a race
That will never pay out?...
It makes cunning minds feeble
As the rich load their bags…
Every time I see steeples
There are homeless in rags
Lying out on the steps
While the collection plate
Is passed amongst those who've
Secured their own fate…
Edit #2
2/12/25
Bunny Villaire
A Shadow In The Dark
Forever tackling
The shadow in the dark...
I see it pirouette
It's batwings without flaw...
It dances here and there
Between the passing cars...
It's breaking out of frame...
Pads emptiness with awe...
When I've become it's Lord,
And nail it to one slot
Will I finally be free
To showcase what I got?...
Advance from effigy...
Retain the skin and flesh?...
Oh, to at last breathe breath
And exit from this mess
Of sticky jams that cling,
And ancient glassed preserves...
I'm dreaming beyond hope
That I can be observed...
...And now at last the shadow
Stretches on the wall!...
It branches out it's limbs,
And doesn't quake or fall...
I squeeze fingers in my fist,
As if on magic string,
It plays the process back to me...
Hear angel voices sing!...
I am now on the track
To move with other beasts!...
That shadow speaks for me...
It holds me in it's crease...
I can vacate this room,
And shuffle down long streets...
It validates my quest
To infiltrate large crowds...
I board a bus with ease,
Impressed that I am seen...
The roads make splashing sounds...
I feel I'm living out my dream...
Climbing out at my stop,
I slip between two crouching signs...
A carport traps me in it's web...
I have to pause here for a time...
Oh no!...More shadows tracked me down!...
They must have recognized my theft!...
They pounce upon me like
A hungry Puma that's bereft...
Forever tackling
The shadow in the dark...
I see it pirouette
It's batwings without flaw...
It dances here and there
Between the passing cars...
It's breaking out of frame...
Pads emptiness with awe...
2/3/25
Bunny Villaire
Wings of Desire
My Stepdad is strong.
Strong in strength.
Strong in character.
He's a Kung Fu Master.
He is soft spoken, and kind.
He comes from one of the most
Beautiful places on earth...
Mexico.
He works hard for his money
In America,
And it's people like him
That make America great.
I refuse to believe
That the Mexican people
Have anything to do with our
Economic collapse...
That blood stain's been a long time coming...
We've had a ruined system
Long before Ronald Reagan shrugged
His shoulders and told everyone
To "pull theirselves up by their bootstraps..."
While he ratted on his fellow man...
We've been treading water
Long before Hoover led his Witch trials
And jailed foreigners for spite...
We've been bumping around in the dark
With no seeing eye dog for decades,
But the rich entitled assholes pointing fingers
Have not improved things in the least...
My Stepdad is a good man,
And a shining example
Of what to aspire to
Despite all odds against you...
He makes me want to try harder
To keep a light burning for my lofty dreams...
So many things are possible....
One must only dare to try.
1/31/25
Bunny Villaire
Edit #2