Poetry by Pip Wilson

Page 6

All poems Copyright © 2001-now, Pip Wilson, Wilson’s Almanac

      
     Shmuk control 

My Sharon-uh   by  THE SHMUK                  

Dedicated to Ariel Sharon

Ooo my little pretty one, pretty one
You know you must be out of your mind Sharon-uh
Will you make the motor run, motor run,
do you think you’re just doin’ fine Sharon-uh

Time for you to stop give it up such a dirty fight
Can’t you get it up can’t you stop are you going blind
My My My Sharon-uh
My My My Sharon-uh
My My My Sharon-uh
My My My Sharon-uh

Come a little closer huh you’re a Hun
Close enough to look in my eyes Sharon-uh
People haven’t got no food see their blood
Running down the length of their thigh Sharon-uh

Time for you to stop give it up such a dirty fight
Can’t you get it up can’t you stop are you going blind
My My My Sharon-uh
My My My Sharon-uh

When you gonna see the light see the light
Is it just a mater of time Sharon-uh
Do you think it’s destiny, destiny
Or is it just a game in your mind Sharon-uh

Time for you to stop give it up such a dirty fight
Can’t you get it up can’t you stop are you going blind
My My My Sharon-uh
My My My Sharon-uh

With apologies to The Knack (My Sharona)  

 

 

Mojo woikin           

By Blind Lemon Sorbet

 

Got my mojo woikin
whatever the hell that means.
Got my mojo woikin mama
whatever the hell that means.
Gonna take it down to Manly
Cause I caint git to Norleans.

Caint go to Loooooziana
on that Manly ferry no.
Caint go to Loooooziana on that Manly ferry no.
If that ol’ ferry caint take me
no way I wanna go.

Think my mojo busted
it don't woik so good.
Maybe my mojo broken maw
cos it ain't woik so good.
It rarely performs acceptably
although the mojo man absolutely assured me that it would.

 

 

Break the chain of command

Empires and their prisons
on all hierarchies stand;
love your freedom, free your lover
break the chain of command. 

Hamburger chains in the nation
slavery chains in the land;
pure determination
to break the chain of command.

Authority and bloody lies
and we think that we are free.
Blow the vapour from your eyes
and see what we could be.

Missile machinations
and mortgages hand in hand
rest on our authority:
we must break the chain of command.

Pyramids crumble, princes tumble
tyrannies are damned;
our father is our brother
as we break the chain of command.

Authority and bloody lies
and we think that we are free.
Blow the vapour from your eyes
and see what we could be.

For pleasure and love and learning
for freedom in the land;
for food and fruitful effort
we must break the chain of command.

To dare to not play in the game
nor cringe beneath the hand;
to share in spite of usury
will break the chain of command.

Authority and bloody lies
and we think that we are free.
Blow the vapour from your eyes
and see what we could be.

Light is on our foreheads
and strength is in our hands
as we carry our lives and our babies
away from the chain of command.

 

 

 

 

A cauldron of changes
 

A cauldron of changes
Feather on the bone
Arc of eternity
Ray of the stones

 

We are the old people
We are the new people
We are the same people
Wiser than before

 

This is the moment
Yesterday has gone
We are the old people
Tomorrow not come

 

Earth my body
Water my blood
Air my breath
Fire my spirit

 

We are the old people
We are the new people
We are the same people
Wiser than before

 

Air moves us
Fire transforms us
Water shapes us
Earth helps us

 

Whatever I decided
Whatever I thought
Whatever my old self
Binds me not

 

A cauldron of changes
Whatever I said
Whatever I was

Wiser than before

 

We are the old people
Whatever I thought
Whatever I was
Binds me not

 

(I have taken liberties with two traditional
songs intertwined with new words)

 

 

On Marx’s diagnosis of human nature

 

Dr Johnson the sage, to prove a point

and confute philosophical cant

kicked a rock and declared

“I perceive it is there -

now somebody prove that it ain’t.”

 

In a much later age with a different point,

to confute other buckets of cant,

my twins (of each sex)

made a grab for my specs
and kicked me when I shouted “Don’t”.

Notes
1684 Bishop George Berkeley, Irish philosopher
George Berkeley was a mathematician and philosopher who graduated from Trinity College, Dublin. Some at college thought him a fool, others considered him a giant of learning. He became Dean of Derry and proposed a mission to convert to Christianity the natives of Bermuda. He set out with three others for that island; the plan failed when a promised government grant never eventuated. 
  In 1733 he became Bishop of Cloyne. His custom was to rise at 3 or 4 o'clock, have a music lesson, then spend the morning in study. In his old age he suffered from colic, and was helped by tar-water, on the virtues of which he wrote a treatise, and later a sequel, which was his last work.
  The university city of Berkeley, California, USA, was named after this philosopher.

“… (Berkeley said) we never actually encounter bodies as such. We only know our mental impressions of them. (Yes, Berkeley is an empiricist.) Dr. Johnson said "I refute Berkeley thus" and kicked a rock …”   Source

 

 

 

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