Category Archives: poems

Powerless

Powerless (poem)
by Rob Roper 1st Draft May 25, 2017

It’s a kangeroo court

Those in authority can lie
They can invent evidence
They can falsely accuse me of things
They can say I said this or that

What they say
is gospel truth
Whatever I say
is disregarded
Their lies are accepted
my truth is rejected

They can
convict me of crimes I didn’t commit
They can
take my money
They can even beat me
and they’ll get away it
they’ll win
They always win

Those in authority have always abused me
It’s happened over and over
all my life
And there’s nothing I can do about it
nothing I can do.

People say, “Yes there is!
You can unite with others
against the people in authority!”

But they never unite.
Nobody ever backs me up.
They leave me standing all alone
to fight the powerful
It’s a losing battle

For I am powerless
I am in the class of losers, the rejects

And you wonder
why I have no confidence
you wonder
why I have no hope
It’s the result of experience
lessons learned the hard way

This is what I’ve learned:
Superior force always wins
Justice always loses

I have no power
They always win
I always lose

always lose

always lose

always lose.

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My People

My People (poem)
by Rob Roper 1st Draft May 26, 2017

I have no use for the winners
The frat boys
now yuppies
with their careers
and families
Taking the baby out for a stroll
with their expensive pure-bred dog
(probably ordered him online)
and their boring mainstream clothes
mainstream haircuts
mainstream facial hair
according to the current fad
staring at their mainstream stupidphones
their boys and girls on bicycles with
training wheels
but wearing helmets anyway
living in their big yuppy triplexes with
3 living rooms
5 bedrooms
and 4 baths
where a small house from the 1950’s once stood
generic boring
shrubs and grass planted by
Mexicans
hired by
the developer landscape company
not a single flower to be seen anywhere
all neat and orderly
like their haircuts.
I have no use for these people.
They bore me.

Give me the losers
the misfits
the rejects
rejects
not because society rejected them
but because they rejected society.
Those who
worked odd jobs all their lives
and never had a career
because all careers seemed boring to them.
Those who never made it
due to lack of enthusiasm for “it”

Bring me the failures
those who have been searching all their lives
but never found it
The wannabe poets, artists and musicians
Well-read
with and a sick and twisted sense of humor
and a healthy dose of cyncism
who know that American politics is corrupt
and whose taste in music
is a rejection
of the mainstream
and an embrace of the subversive

These are my people.
People like me.

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I Didn’t Believe (new song)

by Rob Roper  2nd Draft  July 31, 2014

It was a beautiful day
not a cloud in sight
when a guy with a cellphone
ran a redlight

Everything went black
and then it went white
I saw the gates of heaven
coming into sight

The angels came to get me
and led me through the gate
I was scared to death
of what would be my fate

I walked the streets of gold
up in the cloud
and there He stood
tall and proud

(break)

As soon as I saw Him
I fell down on my knees
I said, “Lord, have mercy
I didn’t believe.”

He said, “Don’t worry, son
It’s the believers who are screwed
they way they behave
I’d be an atheist, too.”

“Killing in my name
waging bloody wars
and all their church services
are such a bloody bore”

“You’ll see your fellow atheists
up here as well
while all the true believers
are burning down in hell.”

(break)

I asked, “What about your son
that you sent down to earth?
The one called Jesus
he of virgin birth?”

He said, “that’s the worst thing about
the Christians’ game
They ignore his teachings
but worship his name.”

“They think that they’re saved
just ’cause they believe
and that gives them the right to do
anything they please”

“But all their worship
that’s just kissing ass
It ain’t what you say
It’s how you act.”

(break)

He said, “I’ll see you later
here comes another crew
I’ve got to damn ten Christians
Three Muslims and a Jew.”

“So grab a harp
and have a glass of wine
you can jam with the angels
until the end of time.”

I stood there in wonder
at this glorious scene
and thanked the good Lord
I didn’t believe

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Filed under Atheism, poem, poems, poetry, political satire, politics, Religion, satire, singer-songwriter, songwriting

A MADDman’s Dream (Poem)

The current Chairman of the Board of Directors of Mothers Against Drunk Driving is not a mother, or even a woman, but a man named William Windsor.

“The founding president of MADD, Candy Lightner, left in disgust from the organization that she herself created because of its change in goals. ‘It has become far more neo-prohibitionist than I ever wanted or envisioned,’ she says. ‘I didn’t start MADD to deal with alcohol. I started MADD to deal with the issue of drunk driving.’… Mothers Against Drunk Driving has clearly become not simply anti-drunk driving or even anti-impaired driving, but anti-alcohol.”

From the website Mothers Against Drunk Driving: A Crash Course in MADD by David J. Hanson, Ph.D.

A Maddman’s Dream
by Rob Roper   July 31, 2014

With your mercenary army
of lawyers and judges
cops and clerks
parole officers and counselors
politicians and breathalyzer companies
The enemy has been conquered
The nations put in their place
The ruins at your feet

A religious state
sober drones hard at work
The jails are full, the bars are empty
The brewmaster and winemaker’s craft a lost art
the restaurants serve diet soda
The Devil’s juice replaced by cancer juice

You push people off the grid
productive workers now criminals
the creative class driven underground
Logic and Reason nowhere in sight
the Policeman’s word is Law
a fascist nightmare

You show pictures of little Suzie
killed by a drunk driver
but according to your own statistics
75% of all accidents are caused by sober drivers
But you don’t care about their victims
do you?

And what about your victims?
Breadwinners thrown in jail
Fired from their jobs
Shamed and disgraced
Lives destroyed
Suicides
Shattered Families
What about all those little Suzies
whose moms and dads got DUIs
went to jail
lost their jobs
and committed suicide?
Hypocrites!

You lowered the BAC limit
from .12 to .10 to .08
and now .05 in Colorado
Two drinks and you’re a criminal.

DUI roadblocks
Unreasonable searches and seizures
Civil liberties crushed
under the MADDman’s boot.

Arresting people for sleeping in their cars rather than drive drunk!
or waiting for a cab!
riding a bike!
for doing the right thing!
Obviously this isn’t about public safety, is it?
This is about money
money for the DUI Industry
and for your neo-prohibitionist political agenda:
bringing back prohibition
one step at a time.

Heart disease kills more Americans than any other cause of death.
Studies show that moderate wine consumption
drastically reduces the chances of heart disease.
But you want to jail me for having two glasses of wine with dinner.

You raise the drinking age from 18 to 21
Old enough to vote
Old enough to be tried as a adult for a crime
Old enough to join the army
You can get your legs blown off in Iraq or Afghanistan
but you can’t have a beer
Brother soldier!  Sister soldier!
You should be fighting the Taliban at home!

First they came for the drunk drivers
and I did nothing
because I don’t drive drunk.
Then they came for the 18-to-20 year-olds
and I did nothing
because I was over 21.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left to defend me.

The world is not a better place.

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Filed under "Rob Roper", Alcohol, DUI, DWI, MADD, Neo-Prohibitionists, poem, poems, poetry, politics, Prohibition

A Billy Collins Poem

I’m going to write a Billy Collins poem
I’m gong to write about
the poem I’m writting about
right now
What I’m doing
Where I’m sitting
Very self-aware, you know
Like “Budapest”
or “Tuesday, June 4, 1991”
or the best, “Workshop”
You know, Billy Collins-style
very conversational.

How does he pull it off
without sounding cute or pretentious?

Maybe it’s because
in the midst of the conversational style
he throws in a great image
or a devastating metaphor
to remind you
that he’s the real deal.

(A pause while I take a swig
from my vodka tonic
The vodka tonic I made
in a beer pint glass
2 shots of vodka,
1/4 of a lemon squeezed
then 1/8 of a lime
ice
and tonic water.
Now back to the poem)

Ha!
How did you like that clever digression
with the drink recipe?
Just the sort of thing Billy Collins would do.
Brilliant!

Anyway…
I’m sitting on my front porch
in Denver, Colorado
It’s June 26, 2008
A beautiful early evening
like all Denver early summer evenings
I should say it’s 7:30pm
(notice my concern for detail)
This is my favorite time of day
Perfect temperature
perfect light
I sit out here everyday that I can
at this time
and write
or read poems
I watch my neighbors walking their dogs
and I have a drink, of course
It tastes so good after running.

Oh I forgot to tell you
Usually after work
I go up to the local park
and run 2 miles
it keeps the fat off
and lowers the stress
then I shower
and sit on the porch.

I should say something about the flowers
I love flowers
So I’ve planted a bunch in my front yard
And I have planter boxes hanging off the deck
or mini-deck
that is my front porch
half of the ones I plant die
I’m not a good gardener
But I’m learning and getting better
I like the amazing colors
and amazing shapes
They make me happy.

So I’m sitting on the front porch
on a beautiful Denver evening
drinking a vodka tonic
and writing a Billy Collins poem.

No devastating metaphor
simile or image
but dude
this is like
only my third poem
or something.

-Rob Roper

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