Monday, September 6, 2010

Some are born leaders, others are what they are.

0710/1940 78/88 Grey Skies ESE 10/15 90%H
DOGS The same.

Greetings from the Hill.

Another damp day in paradise,
the wood turner noising below,
the oldman writing in bed,
watching CNBC documentaries.

The gardener out with the camera.

Alger in the Rockies.

Does anyone care about the President?

His father was on his way to Harvard,
his mother a radical anti=establishmentarian,
a teenager and bigamist,
breeding without marriage,
condoned by Grannie,
the only white woman banker
in Hawaii.

Stanley, a funny name for a mother,
who had ideas herself of greatness,
not African bound for Muslim wives
of the mean little man
who died drunk in a ditch,
like Billy Blythe's daddy...

"Never sit on the fence, son,
learn to dribble a ball...
I'm pregnant and you have another daddy,
you'll meet new friends,"
preparing the path of change.

Strange the history of Democrats,
leaders who had never served.

Grade school with nuns ringing in his ears
and that ommmmmming from the rug,
Daddy Sorieta was in the oil business for BP,
and Stanley was a spy with the Ford Foundation,
learning different paths to nirvana,
teachings of the Buddha,
ethics of the atheists,
"Maybe Momma was in the CIA!"

A little muslim had to drift into
a head preoccupied with greatness...
he would be the best
dribbler in the NBA.

He loved his rice and vegetables
with pinapples and spam...
he wanted to go home and dribble.

"Son, Momma has work to do in Asia,
grampa and grandma will look after you,
you will go to the best schools,
you have a gift with talking,
now learn the jump shot."

And Momma was gone.

His bad black Daddy never visited.

His yellow stepdaddy never appeared,
not even when he won the state title
with his jump shot...
Mom was working on her doctorate
somewhere in Indonesia.

No family, no friends, no lovers,
living in New York at Columbia,
the voices of Keroauc and Ginsberg
ringing through the halls
and onto the basketball court.

Like Jack, an injury ended a dream,
another road to travel, alone as always,
but Grandma was Vice President of 'The Bank',
following his bad black bigamist Dad to Harvard,
not in Economics but Law...imagine if both.

Grandpa and grandpa were so proud at graduation.

That all black girl in Chicago had plans of her own.

Momma didn't like black girls
but she took her coffee black.

She became a Doctor in Micro Economics
and saved the future for Asian nations,
found God and adopted a black baby girl.

Barry is not kind to his sisters
from his Momma but brags
about his brothers and sisters
bred by his bad black bigamist dad in Africa.

Maybe being half white in The White House
alters one's view of life.

Above the Horn.

Beyond the Reef.

Within believe.

1 comment:

  1. Well, I would rather have Obama in office, an educated man on Constitution Law, than a war monger, expert in war economics like McCain.
    Would anyone ever be happy with whoever is President, or we just a country of complainers and conspiracy theorists?