Science is a tool
That advances certain tasks
But you won’t find the Truth
In a beaker or a flask
Science is a tool
It’s a process or technique
But science makes a fool
When it’s wisdom that you seek
Science is a tool
Like a hammer or a knife
Not a creed, nor a school
Nor a philosophy of life
Science is a tool
That can foster gross infection
In the minds of crazy ghouls
With dreams of mass perfection
by Richard W. Bray
To fight aloud, is very brave–
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Calvalry of Woe–
—Emily Dickinson
I’m damaged and I’m blue
And I’m gonna damage you
The grief that grew and grew
Is the damage I can do
But I know it hurts me too
When I spread my hurt to you
Don’t wanna look within
At the hurt inside my skin
Or see the monster that I’ve been
Abusing kith and kin
Anger is my cage
But there is comfort in my rage
by Richard W. Bray
It’s a recurring deed
Not an aberration
The stupid bloody greed
Of the folks who own a nation
They bleed the land dry
With unstoppable predation
And loot and steal and lie
To increase their allocation
They will plunder every dollar
And suffocate the nation
If no one puts a collar
On their moral depredation
by Richard W. Bray
Take the worst thing you’ve ever done
And put it in your pocket
Don’t matter if you tell someone
Just put it in your pocket
Take the worst thing you’ve ever done
And own it every second
Like the dearest thing you’ve known
A memory that beckons
The worst thing you’ve ever done
Is you and you must love it
Find beauty in your frailty
You’ll never get above it
by Richard W. Bray
Puritanism: The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.
—H.L. Mencken
You need to be punished
For thoughts in your head
Don’t act on your hunger
You’d be better off dead
You need to be punished
It’s your filthy stinking sin
Heaven’s not a promise
And you ain’t getting in
You need to be punished
I know who you are
You spoke with that guy
And got inside his car
You need to be punished
You’ll feel much better
I got a strap that cleanses
As your cheeks get redder
I need to punish
And make the world right
It’s my duty to destroy
Every hint of appetite
by Richard W. Bray
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
—Emily Dickinson
Some folks hide their hurt
Under a carapace of cruel
They’d rather be an asshole
Than be anybody’s fool
It’s easy to give up
It’s easy to despair
It’s easy to bamboozle
And pretend you just don’t care
It’s scary to acknowledge
We’ll never find a cure
It’s daunting to consider
All the hurt in the world
Focus on the little toil—
Cool one pain
It’s all that I know
To keep one sane
by Richard W. Bray
She’s a vision, she’s an angel
she’s a goddess, she’s a queen
She is natural, she is perfect
She is pure and she is clean
Love can be incredible
But love won’t make you whole
If you’re looking for a woman
To perfect your sorry soul
Everything I want and need
A perfect combination
Every other woman is
A phony imitation
If you’re looking for a partner
To play a hopeless role
You won’t find a woman
To perfect your sorry soul
Transport constant misery
To eternal bliss
She’s the only woman
Who could possibly do this
Replacing God with Romance
Is an idiotic goal
You won’t find a woman
To perfect your sorry soul
by Richard W. Bray
Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.
—Kurt Vonnegut, God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater
Miles and miles of empty
Surround our lovely Earth
Human beings are blessed to share
The planet of our birth
We devastate and plunder
And treat it like a sewer
With rapacity to horrify
An interstellar viewer
We’re stupid and we’re greedy
And violent and cruel
Who came up with such a lot
Of self-destructive fools?
Everything that we create
Will decompose and rust
All of our accomplishments
Will tumble down to dust
Existence is a gift
Don’t misuse your ration
You must defy this dreary life
With kindness and compassion
by Richard W. Bray
—William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116
I love you when you’re mean
I love you when you’re mad
I love you when you’re angry
I love you when you’re bad
Love is not a smorgasbord
For me to pick and choose
Always have to clean my plate
When I’m digesting you
I love you when you pout
I love you when you cry
I love you when you’re dirty
I’ll love you till I die
Love is not a sometimes thing
Love is not a switch
I love you as an angel
I love you as a bitch
by Richard W. Bray
Suffering is not increased by numbers: one body can contain all the suffering the world can feel
—Thomas Fowler
You can take an anvil
And drop it on my face
Feed me to the rodents
Till I’m gone without a trace
Tie me to an anthill
Drop me from the sky
Just don’t hurt the ones I love
Or make my baby cry
I know I can contain
The borders of my pain
A million shocks and aches
Won’t make me complain
Tie me to an anthill
Drop me from the sky
Just don’t hurt the ones I love
Or make my baby cry
Love gives it meaning
The hurt that we all feel
The pain we have for others
Makes existence real
Tie me to an anthill
Drop me from the sky
Just don’t hurt the ones I love
Or make my baby cry
by Richard W. Bray
Laughter hope sock in the eye's Blog 