By Rumple Oxbridge, liberal lyricist

I’ll say this much for Twitter:
It’s Tr——p’s Achilles’ Heel.
Eventually he’ll tweet something
so far beyond the pale,

almost every Republican
will admit the news is real.
They will stand before a mic
to boldly, angrily reveal—

“Hillary hacked the president
with a scandalous e-mail!”
For evidence they will point to
a tweet from you know who.

[JK: An augury is an omen and this is a political poem because . . . today is Blake’s birthday and the poem details connections, relationships ecological and human we too often, especially in the halls of power, fail to acknowledge. The first four lines are famous but we often neglect the rest of this poem of transcendental justice.  Thanks to the Poetry Foundation from which I borrowed Blake’s bio and the poem.]
William Blake [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
 Auguries of Innocence
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage
A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thr’ all its regions
A dog starvd at his Masters Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State
A Horse misusd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear
A Skylark wounded in the wing
A Cherubim does cease to sing
The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright
Every Wolfs & Lions howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul
The wild deer, wandring here & there
Keeps the Human Soul from Care
The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife
And yet forgives the Butchers knife
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belovd by Men
He who the Ox to wrath has movd
Shall never be by Woman lovd
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spiders enmity
He who torments the Chafers Sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night
The Catterpiller on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar
The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat
The Gnat that sings his Summers Song
Poison gets from Slanders tongue
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envys Foot
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artists Jealousy
The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags
Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags
A Truth thats told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent
It is right it should be so
Man was made for Joy & Woe
And when this we rightly know
Thro the World we safely go
Joy & Woe are woven fine
A Clothing for the soul divine
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine
The Babe is more than swadling Bands
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made & Born were hands
Every Farmer Understands
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity
This is caught by Females bright
And returnd to its own delight
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of Death
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Does to Rags the Heavens tear
The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
The poor Mans Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands
Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole Nation sell & buy
He who mocks the Infants Faith
Shall be mockd in Age & Death
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall neer get out
He who respects the Infants faith
Triumphs over Hell & Death
The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons
The Questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to Reply
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesars Laurel Crown
Nought can Deform the Human Race
Like to the Armours iron brace
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow
A Riddle or the Crickets Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply
The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will neer Believe do what you Please
If the Sun & Moon should Doubt
Theyd immediately Go out
To be in a Passion you Good may Do
But no Good if a Passion is in you
The Whore & Gambler by the State
Licencd build that Nations Fate
The Harlots cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet
The Winners Shout the Losers Curse
Dance before dead Englands Hearse
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day

[JFK: Here’s a poetic perspective on politics some may call cynical, some may say stoic. Jeffers referred to his philosophical distance from people as “inhumanism.” This should not, however, be confused with inhumane-ism. Jeffers built a house of stone in Carmel, CA overlooking the Pacific in the days before Carmel was a haven for wealth and tourists. My favorite lines are “the cold passion for truth/Hunts in no pack.” It’s a comforting poem in its way.]

By Robinson Jeffers


 Robinson Jeffers Hawk Tower, Tor House, Carmel, CA 2008 Photo by Celeste Davison at English Wikipedia [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Be Angry at the Sun


That public men publish falsehoods
Is nothing new. That America must accept
Like the historical republics corruption and empire
Has been known for years.

Be angry at the sun for setting
If these things anger you. Watch the wheel slope and turn,
They are all bound on the wheel, these people, those warriors.
This republic, Europe, Asia.

Observe them gesticulating,
Observe them going down. The gang serves lies, the passionate
Man plays his part; the cold passion for truth
Hunts in no pack.

You are not Catullus, you know,
To lampoon these crude sketches of Caesar. You are far
From Dante’s feet, but even farther from his dirty
Political hatreds.

Let boys want pleasure, and men
Struggle for power, and women perhaps for fame,
And the servile to serve a Leader and the dupes to be duped.
Yours is not theirs.


By Rumple Oxbridge, liberal lyricist


Trump has a plan to fix Afghanistan:
more war will do what war has not before.
It is a plan not hard to understand
his “war cabinet” advises–War fails? Try more.
Eventually this war will have to end
but stopping war before we win is like
un-masculine and feminist. Pretend
(riding on a wheel-less warrior-bike)
we’re getting to the peace we want to know.
For one day even though we haven’t got there
(and we’ve been pedaling violently, you know)
we claim that where we are is just like there!
“In the end, we will win,” Donald said.
There’s death in war but war is never dead.

By T.S. Swanky,  an imaginary, confused conservative

Civil liberties? Let’s just call them “liberal liberties” from now on.

I was barely recovered from the shockingly disturbing news that President Trump and Steve Bannon were parting ways, when I read that the ACLU, which had bravely stood up for the rights of racists to express themselves in Charlottesville, VA, has now decided that it won’t represent racist haters if the haters are swaggering around with guns.

Hey, guns don’t hate people–people do! Just because you are yelling hateful, bigoted, angry things at people in public does not mean that you intend to shoot them, does it? And whose to say, anyway, that a bullet can’t be considered a form of speech? If money can be speech (thank you Supreme Court!) why can’t the inanimate objects of weapons also be speech protected by the First Amendment and the Second Amendment?

If it wasn’t for muskets and cannons, would we even have a Constitution?

All those protesters that carry those handwritten signs– some of those signs are big enough to hurt someone if used as weapons. And I saw a photograph of somebody about to throw a heavy metal newspaper dispenser at some racist. The news may be fake, but it can hurt if hurled. Is the ACLU not going to defend newspapers now?

Where will it end? Even old Confederate statues are being torn down which is if you think about it a violation of historical free speech rights. If contemporary hate groups have a right to speak their minds, why shouldn’t historical hate groups–like the Confederacy– have a First Amendment right to honor old military racists?

I’m no racist, but who is going to stand up for all our militias that just want to be heard and feared, to carry really big and powerful weapons when they stage public confrontations against the sort of people they hate? Surely the Founding Fathers did not intend to limit armed speech in this way.

What’s next? Outlawing war?


Editor’s Note– Here’s a link to a NY Times editorial which addresses the same issue (carrying guns at political protests) in a much more astute, less confused manner. A portion of it follows: 

“The critical question is how to protect peoples’ free speech in the presence of armed opponents. The gun lobby has worked to pass laws in Virginia and other states to prevent local governments from passing restrictions on open carry. But legal researchers point to elements in state laws and Supreme Court decisions saying that the right to bear arms in public is not absolute and must stop short of inducing fear in others. No help should be expected, of course, from President Trump, who was the National Rifle Association’s candidate last year. Ideally, the president should be the first to call for a ban on gun toting at public forums and tighter regulations of the adapted battlefield rifles that the gun industry markets to macho civilians.”


Robert E Lee statue at Lee Circle New Orleans being removed from atop the column. By Infrogmation of New Orleans (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons.

By Rumple Oxbridge, liberal lyricist

It’s sad to see, the president said,
knocking down our metal-molded

racist generals green with age.
Once such men were all the rage,

killing to keep owning slaves.
You gotta admit, they looked brave

on their green horses, on pedestals,
so “beautiful” were those generals

as all the monuments to war
obscuring what all war is for:

killing in the name of _______.
(Fill in whatever beautiful cause you approve of.)

Those Confederate generals will be missed
by mostly guys who think the South was dissed

by Abe Lincoln and abolitionists.
The rest of us don’t give a ______.

But I agree with Trump when he
said we can learn from history:

Racism and violence we should resist.
We need more monuments to pacifists.

Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, Washington, D.C. Photo by John Frederick Kaufman. All rights reserved.