Superhero

Note:  This was written by a friend of mine that reads my blog "View from the cheap seats."  My sign-off is "Up, up and away..."

Superhero

He’s disguised as a blogger, a writer of tales sometimes grave

But enough of that now

He has a planet to save.

He stands for Justice, Truth and the sometimes inane

From tackling politicos

To scribbles reminiscent of Twain

And like most Superheroes

There’s a weakness that remains

Like Kryptonite to Superman

Peanut m&ms are his bane

Instead of taking off

To the clouds with a blast

Our hero flies commercial

Usually in business class

But if you hear a sonic boom

Not so common as of late

Just look to the sky

It’s just Jim and his cape

                  Wesley Duncan

                   May 3^rd, 2011

Dare to Spray

Forward: In Hungary, it is traditional that on Easter, a boy (or man) will recite a poem to a girl he likes. After the reading, he asks her permission to spray her. This is usually done with water or perfume. If the girl is suitably impressed, she agrees to be sprayed. After being sprayed, she offers the boy an Easter egg.

This sounds a lot like a Spring fertility rite.

Here is a Poem I wrote for my wife on Easter.

Dare to Spray

I wonder, suppose I ask, she’ll say
Should I do or not to spray.

Tis something I must think about,
Lest she think me frog or perhaps a lout.

A pretend me, I cannot use,
Lest she come too close and see the ruse.

False bravado, I dare not show,
For come to spray, she’ll just say no.

Another one, I cannot be,
If I wish to spray, I must be me.

She must know I am the one,
To whom, when in trouble, she’ll always run.

She sees my arms are always safe,
When feeling low to me she’ll race.

She’ll know my touch is warm and sure,
As hers to me, a soul healing cure.

I want her thoughts to be all of me,
To her heart my hand, must hold the key.

But alas, how can she come to know,
A love like mine, should she say no?

Don’t spray me boy, now go away,
My life’s last breath should she choose to say.

Dare I risk to ask her such,
To win or lose, alas so much.

But there she is, it’s now or never
Will she chose me, my life’s endevour.

"Ahem," I say, catching her eye,
"Ahem right back," she says with a sigh.

Dare say I, may I please spray you,
Yes you may, and yes I do.

Spray to take my love to you,
Of course it’s yes, I do, I do!

Now fifteen years since that first time,
Any only now I put in rhyme.

Knew I from start, from the very first day,
This is the girl that I must spray. 

She is mine as hers am I,
As long as there as stars up high.

Together we are, ever since that day,
When I chose to do, rather than not to spray.

Monumental Failure

This is the story of a fall from grace,

By a political party with egg on its face.

The Republican party, known as the GOP,

As seen from an insider, as seen by me.

You see I was once, on their side of the isle,

But either they changed - or me, I now see them as vile.

It started with W. the son of a Bush,

“Be afraid, but I’ll save you,” and into war he did push.

It was a lie from the start, but there was oil at stake,

So he chased a false rumor, about yellow cake.

He knew it wasn’t true, there were no WMDs,

But he still gave us the fear, that spread like a disease.

He ruined our economy and the world view of us,

In the end, off a cliff, he drove the American bus.

No money or jobs, and no world respect,

Mired in two wars, we were an adrift derelict.

That was the best, the GOP could do,

We were broken, held together with string and some glue.

During their reign they created a very dire picture,

And while the poor got poorer, the rich became richer.

Then Obama took over, a man with a soul.

Immediately his failure, became their publicly stated goal.

“Yes we can,” was meant to put wind in our sail.

But the Republicans dropped anchor, “Obama must fail.”

To fail means less jobs and no care for the poor,

Continued prejudice against gays, and a country mired in war.

To fail means a budget that burdens generations to come,

To fail meant cloudy skies when success meant the sun.

Why would they want things to appear such a gloomy grey?

So they can come in and say, “We’ll save the day!”

They hoped we forget, how badly they failed,

The top of our coffin their policies nailed.

More for the rich is what “small government means”

They claim to save money, by giving jewels to the kings.

“Cut funding for Medicare, that saves us some dough,”

Means on the back of the aged that burden must go.

“Tax breaks for rich will create lots of jobs,”

Means money for fundraisers, suits filled with fat blobs.

“Balance the budget by cutting revenue,”

Means lining the pocket of the rich and the few.

“Cut wasteful spending,” a sound bite heard across the nation,

Means potholes in roads and less education.

“Let us captain the ship,” as they hold us all down,

"Obama must fail," so they can again run aground.

They are offering more of what Bush gave us for years,

That we even bother to listen, just brings me to tears.

If we fail they will win which will suit them just fine,

More poor for the streets, for their supporters – fine wine.

They cater to fear, the rich and dumb,

Find out the facts, seek out the sun.

Don’t listen to generalities or promises of doom,

Do the math and use facts to bring light into the room.

The Republicans werein charge and they failed in a big way

Why believe their new cries of "We'll save the day."

They are lying to your face and hope you don’t see,

That their goal is the failure of the land of the free.

To send them all packing, open your ears and your eyes,

Listen for the truth, but look for the lies.

Neither party is perfect, both filled with their flaws,

But only one has your interest at the root of their cause.

Today I’m a Democrat, but long for the days

When the Republican party was just, before changing their ways.

Now Obama’s the man, his success is a must,

Making American great is his goal that I trust.

I truly believe he is a man with a mission,

“A greater America” – I share in his vision.

So good-bye GOP, a failure of fear,

As you leave the room, don’t let the door hit your rear.

If you ever decide to put America first,

I’m listening but for now, I see you at your worst.

To move us all forward, to a future that is grand,

Take those GOP anchors and leave them in the sand.

May our county’s sails fill, as full as we please,

And God bless us all with fair winds and following seas.

Porn Obsession

Stan had a secret,

Some would call it a sin.

He liked seeing women,

Wearing only their skin.

It started long ago,

He was looking for a toy.

When he found some magazines,

The title – Playboy

Then he started a collection

A drive to possess,

All things that were porn,

He’d begun to obsess.

He found that big breasts,

Were the most compellin’,

He began to be drawn

To things shaped like a melon.

Then came the internet,

And all hope was lost.

He joined every porn site,

Regardless of cost.

This new form of media,

Brought him things that were new.

Leather beauties having sex

With thing that went moo.

There were men on more men

And Asian cartoons

And sluts from the streets

Blowing hairy baboons.

There were sex toys and videos

And things for your butt

And homemade erotica

Like two girls and a cup

Stan loved every bit

Since the young age of eight

When he found his dad’s stash

And learned to masturbate

Now he’s grown old

His sex drive is o nil

Though still playing with his erection

Thanks to a little blue pill

Bathroom Inequality

Have you ever seen,

A woman’s commode?

The kind that is public - Not at your abode

It happened to me,

By accident one day.

I strolled right on in – to my surprise I must say.

I knew right away,

That something was amiss.

The floor wasn’t sticky – it didn’t smell like piss.

There was a couch and some chairs

And paint on the walls.

The air was perfumed – doors hung on the stalls.

I was there but a moment,

Yet got a look about.

Then women glared at me angrily – as I slowly backed out.

I located my bathroom,

It was four steps to the right.

As I entered the room – my sphincter shut up tight.

How could I go back,

Given where I had been.

From the bathroom of angels – to the devil’s trash bin.

It smelled worse than it looked,

Though I know not how that could be.

I took a cautious step in – and slipped on some pee.

I fell to my back,

And as I lay on the floor,

I could three stalls down – where there was poop on the door.

The worse part of all,

Were the sounds I could hear.

There were groans and some farts – And someone upchucking a beer.

With considerable effort,

I got unstuck from the floor.

I’d seen the unfairness – I couldn’t take it any more.

I marched back over,

To the room painted pink.

I dropped down my trousers – and took a dump in their sink.

Now I have time to consider,

How I will make bail.

Cause there ain’t nothing worse – than the toilets in jail

Fire Gazing

I get home from work

And right away it starts;

Family Guy on T.V. – a show filled with farts.

The wife knows by now

To give me some time;

The first half hour at home – is time that is mine.

They say this has come

From days long ago;

When we came back to camp - with arrow and bow.

After a long day of hunting

We needed a break;

We’d stare at the fire - while the wife cooked the steak.

So now we come home

And the wife wants to talk;

But she give us our time – and we sit like a rock.

She knows that in time

We’ll come out of our shell;

Best we not take advantage – or she’ll make our life hell.

“Take your half hour,

Then pay me some mind;”

Then later tonight - I’ll not be unkind.”