Carlton Lloyd Smith on March 2nd, 2010

The Temple of Jupiter sits astride the Potomac
A shining obelisk in her midst
Bearing the name of a Late, Famous General
- the architects’ gift to demon gods at the
dawning of an empire

Today the Wall Street pirates loot the coffers
in her basement,
Riding the waves of deceit

What was of the people, for the people and by the people
Now sits upon the people

The Lord looks upon their plans and schemes and laughs

Parasite bankers feast upon their host
but when the wasted carcass breathes its last
What then?

The Russians turned to the murderous Stalin
- Five Year Plans and Gulags
- To each according to his need

Mao was the Chinese answer and the Great Leap Forward
Leaving millions in its wake

In their time of desperation, the Germans chose Hitler
to lead them from the depths of ruin

The devil himself will appear as an angel of light

And America the Beautiful?
Where will she turn?

The morning star shines brightly in the East

Beware your savior, America
- when he comes

He was a liar and a murderer from the start

Carlton Lloyd Smith on February 19th, 2010

my grandfathers fought in the mother of all wars
and they knew they were justified in their fight

one was a marine and the other a soldier
in the army air corps

one lost a brother in Asia and the other
found a wife in Europe

they fought with the images of their
youth in their minds

the images of hardship painted in their eyes

the unemployment lines of yesteryear
were photographed in black and white
lines of misery
waiting
waiting for that paltry morsel
to aid the ailing masses out of work

and they fought with the knowledge
that America was the land of the free
and the home of the brave

but what they were stuck on was freedom

freedom was worth fighting for

the country they called their own was built
on the idea that every man could make his own way

he was free to choose

they fought for the American Dream
that grand experiment that sprouted on a continent
so far removed from their ancestors
but gave an opportunity to every man
and ignored the privilege of birth

every man had a shot

every man had a chance to make it

today the magazines are out of shots
as your neighbor sits by the phone on thursday
waiting to punch in the right combination
to collect his check

there is no image to remind you
no drama to unfold in dreary eyes
waiting

you sit afloat on your porch and wonder
if this sea of debt is worth
the creature comforts you enjoy
if this is the freedom they fought for

wait and watch as they bail out
the banksters
reaping the profit they suck
from the government teat

from your teat

you can only wonder how it happens
as the water rises

every day you go to work
and thankful that you have the job
because even though you hear
them say it’s getting better
you can see the water rising

you can see your neighbor out of work
your brother and your uncle looking
as the bankster drives away in his Maserati
painted red

that’s how it works in today’s American Dream

yet somehow I can’t believe it’s the same
one my grandfathers fought for

Carlton Lloyd Smith on February 19th, 2010

I am the black sheep

Among the herd I stand and watch
their souls reflect the sun
while the woolen fabric of my own
absorbs

My family is a line of true believers
Social Justice and Equality

Their faith is that elected leaders can
lead us to a promised land
where all men
get the same chance in life

No wide disparity of wealth
No opulence
No dilapidated slums

Everybody gets a fair shake

Shining white in the light
their noble intent
vibrates in the fabric of
resonant noise

I am the black sheep

I was told in school that all men
were created equal and was taught
to believe that it meant that all men
continued to be equal to the end

But equality, I have found, is a myth

Each man has his own strengths,
his own advantages,
his own weaknesses and obstacles
to overcome

Equality is a diversion
- a carrot at the end of a stick

The only way to make men equal
is by force

I am the black sheep

Darkening the landscape
in contrast to the shining mass
of white around me

Among my countrymen I stand
and listen to all the wrongs
to be righted

As we wait for the soothsayer
to take to the pulpit
and ask for our tithe of a vote

They have the magic elixir to
mend our broken spirits

This one has the key
This one knows the way

Yet I distrust men with guns who
come in the name of the State
to impose the tyrannical will of the mob

The only way that men will do what they
otherwise would not is through force

The coercive power of the State
would bleach my soul
in the name of equality

And the name of Good Intentions
rings hollow when what is good
can only be decided by each man
for himself

And he who decides what is good for
himself is different from the mob
must be brushed aside
- eliminated
- silenced

I am the black sheep

Apart from the herd
yet warm

Carlton Lloyd Smith on February 12th, 2010

Before entropy did its devil’s work
I was content keeping time with inertia

Standing on the bridge over the dank concrete river
Carrying garbage from afar to an unknown destination
The small child looked at me with round eyes
Hoping I might trade her pennies for a small candy

The men were full of bravado, passing me tequila in double doses
My wife smiling at me in joy for the expected child sitting placid in her womb
We sat and ate in the cantina too young to appreciate the gravity of the situation
Smiling and hope filled the room in bushels as we laughed

The man asked for fifteen for the blanket but finally accepted ten
It was hand made and wool and very soft and big
I thought its grey was charming and I knew it would keep us warm
And it did; It still keeps her warm today

The sun was bright and the Coronas were less than a dollar
Tasting sticky in the heat it was our last stop before we returned
Crossing over the bridge and the river
Foul with waste destined for a distant home

Carlton Lloyd Smith on January 25th, 2010

A cloud drifts by as we lie on the grass in sandals,
But clouds no longer have any meaning for me,
Shapes and shadows make small fodder for laughter;
But now the sun shines through them

The brushing breeze floats over us,
Looking lazy at the blue expanse above,
It stretches on forever; its space, our empty future,
Waiting for us to fill it with what we will;
With whatever we will

Dark clouds may sometimes dim the sky
With a passing pall of permeating grey,
But now, this new, retains its azure hue

Brightened by the sun you wear
so softly with your eyes