Sunday, December 25, 2005


Combating Christmas Blues

Thanks to William A. Robinson, M.D.
Ocean Beach Mental Health Clinic

It may come as a surprise to some but not many that poor Mr. Scrooge wasn't so much a bad man, as much as, an unhappy one, with the Holiday Blues.

For many people, the time between Thanksgiving and Valentine's Day is the most unhappy time of the year. Everyone, including themselves, expects them to feel a joyousness they do not feel.

They are expected to feel love and goodwill towards parents and relatives. Sometimes those persons do not deserve it. They are expected, to have a loving circle of friends. Sometimes, they do not.

Often, the same words express things that may not have the same meaning. For example, the words sadness, grief and depression, are used to describe various types of unhappiness.

Each of these feelings have different causes. Each needs different types of treatments to relieve the bad feelings.

Bob Crachit wasn't happy that Mr. Scrooge required him to work on Christmas Day. He knew exactly why he was not happy and his unhappiness did not last for long. Bob was happy again, by the time the Christmas meal was served. What Mr. Crachit experienced could be termed sadness, an unhappy feeling for a specific reason, that passes quickly.

When Mr. Scrooge reflected upon his childhood of abandonment and hardship, he experienced strong emotions of sadness, loss, nightmares and personality change. It was not until Mr. Scrooge was able to recognize the loss he suffered and the value of the loss to him, not until he went through his attempt to bargain away his unhappiness with the various ghosts and not until he was first angered and then at peace with the 'ghosts' and his past, that the unhappiness left him. What Mr. Scrooge experienced could becalled "

Tuesday, December 20, 2005


(Please) Buy My Mommy For Christmas

by Victor Om Shanti
[Must be sung in a "Betty Boop" voice]

Please buy my mommy
For Chris -muss
Or they 'll be no Chris-muss
For meeeee
The curly haired dolly
And the bright red lolly
Will stay in the store
If mommy can't go out 'n' whore

It was cold and snowny when Daddy went away
We didn't have a dime for a tree
Momma prayed to Baby Jesus for a sign
When Santa sang, Ho! Ho!
Momma cried then said
I know what I'll do
To pull us through

Please buy my mommy
For Chris -muss
Or they 'll be no Chris-muss
For meeeee
The curly haired dolly
And the bright red lolly
Will stay in the store
If mommy can't go out 'n' whore

My little brother Bobby wants a cycle
To turn his frown to a smile
Without hands or feet
He needs this small treat
If only you'll do your part.

So have a little piece on this Chris-muss
Spread a little Chris-muss joy through the year
Please don your Chris-muss sock
When Mommy's on the block
Or we'll have no Chris-muss this year

(Big finish now, everybody)

Please buy my mommy
For Chris -muss
Or they 'll be no Chris-muss
For meeeee
The curly haired dolly
And the bright red lolly
Will stay in the store
If mommy can't go out 'n' whore
Or we'll have no Chris-muss this year


Boldar the Christmas Pit Bull

Story by Victor Om Shanti

Santa Claus was sad.
Good kids were mad.
When they went to their tree. No gifts did they see.
Why? Because someone was bad.
Who? I do not know, yet. Can you tell me?
What happened is this.
Santa had gifts for good girls and boys.
Santa had the gifts in his sled.
Santa went to the house of boys and girls, when they were in bed.
Santa had red boats and yellow dolls.
Santa had blue hats and brown mittens.
Santa had toys that were black, white and green.
Santa had the best gifts kids ever had seen.
Santa went in the house with gifts so new.
Santa left other gifts in a sack on his sled, too.
When Santa left the house, the sled was there, but the gifts were gone!
The red boats were gone.
The yellow dolls, too, were gone.
The blue hats and brown mittens were not to be seen.
The black, white and green toys were missing, it seems.
Where did they go? Is there a clue?
Look, there are footprints in the snow.
Who left the foot marks?
I, still, do not know.
Follow the footprints, then.
See where they go in the snow.
I cannot follow the footprints in the snow.
It is too dark to follow the marks.
Say, does not this reindeer have a nose that glows in the dark to light up the night.
Now we can see and follow the footprints.
Follow them here. Follow them there.
Follow them when they go on a bend.
Follow them. Follow them, right to the end!
Where are the red boats?
Where are the yellow dolls?
Where are the blue hats?
Where are the brown mittens?
Where are the toys, black, white and green?
Not here, I am afraid, but do you hear sounds in the dark?
It sounds like a whimper. It sounds like a bark under the snow.
Dig under the snow. What do you see?
It is a tiny golden pup inside of a log.
Santa can see the puppy is cold.
So Santa went to his house with the puppy, the search for gifts put on hold.
One year later, the puppy is a dog.
It is warm and happy with very big teeth.
Santa calls the dog, Boldar.
Boldar rides in the sled on top of the sack.
No bad someone will steal gifts with Boldar sitting in back.
When Boldar smiles, his teeth are bright like a slice of the moon.
On Christmas, this year, look up in the sky.
Do you see a red light near a slice of the moon?
Then it's Santa, Boldar, and Rudolf, as they fly by.

Saturday, November 19, 2005



by Victor Om Shanti

The quality of mercy is not strained...
It dropeth like..
The twisted web we weave
When we practice to ...
Live according to the magisterium
of the Church of Jesus Christ, Roman.

While in New Awlins
The lower ninth ward
grovels in supplication
Within Xavier's chapel
Expectin Lord Jesus Nagin
On a riverboat casino
down Tchapatoulous to drive.

In Houston, a Nuyorican weeps.
In Cali, from the scent of bachi pungent,
A New Yorkam-African is bemused.

Sunday, September 11, 2005


Nobody Blew Up America

by Victor Om Shanti

Most, who think, believe to shrink from visiting violence
Without cause
On innocent neighbor is a must.
But, the deferring of force due to amoral stance
Is not peace.
Violence absent of consequences is not just.

I see the best (?) minds of my generation
Orgasmically howl when they
hear "Somebody Blew Up America".
To these incipient ebidiots,
This I want to make perfectly clear:

Nobody blew up America
Nobody ran when they coulda
To string the poet laureate
With neck encompassing lariat.

Nobody blew up America
Nobody can,
Nobody will,
Despite the publishing of
Demagogic diatribe swill.

America is a stream of consciousness,
Whose headwaters are
The river of desire,
Flowing out the spring of men's souls.

America is an oasis on a planet of refugees
Green collared with South African necklace
Yearning to breathe air free
Of the fashionable stench of political correctness.

No bombs, No fanatics, No fires, No matter
Of what degree,
Can burn,
or falter
The dream founded here
To where others flee.

Nobody blew up America

Who can think it bright
To question without substance
Those we know are right.

Who was it that died to free slaves?
Who was it that wept at MLK's grave?
Who supplies the feelings, you quote as facts?
Who is it your CIA?
The Celebrity Innuendo Asinine -ation?

Who, who, who -o -o -o? You know who?
Nome saying?

Nobody blew up America.

Nobody blew America
Like that poverty pimp's
Blow up doll
You know who I'm hinting
The one who gave big fun
To the first nigger president
Bill Clinton.
Who didn't march in the gutters
When Christmas came, and,
The troops from Kosovo
didn't come?

Who crowed to the troops
In Bosnia
Without saying, No War,
To her hilarious host?

Which chick's so committed
To her principled stand
Against tyranny on the oppressed
That she's now whistling Dixie
From behind a bush
Because her speech with Texas messed

Who gave Sudanese blacks
Migraines from his attacks
On aspirin factories
With my cruise missiles
Without my Congressman's nod?
Because he knew
who blew
but not America, cuz,

Nobody blew up America.

Who marched in the street
To chant and repeat
No to Capitalism
No to Racism
No to War
Then ducked into back alley
To pay some whore
To destroy Napster's drain
on their financial core?

Who, Who, Who -o-o-o? You Know Who.
Nome saying?

Who invited welcome wagon
Humvee armor dispensing shit
Into Port-au-Prince
In order to install
A puppet at his beck and call
A Papa Doc replacement Jesuit?

Who, Who, Who -o-o-o-o? You Know Who.
Nome saying?

Who trooped out of graduation?
Who on Election Day goes on vacation?
Or if they show
Announce with glee
It's too hard to punch card punch
A tiny hole
Smaller than their IQ's
For the man from Tennessee.

Who gives opponents a curse
While fattening his purse
With moral bankruptcy?

Who threw peanuts
To perceived field hands,
While campaigning to be
Head massa?

Who did LeRoi Jones marry?
With who did Minister Farakhan tarry?
Who really gave drugs to Barry?
Who drove the car at Chappaquidick?
Who took Tawana Brawley to the bar?

Who, who, who-o-o-o? You know who.
Nome saying?

Nobody blew up America.
Nobody blew up America.
Cause, when it's America, sand-eaters try to dis,
A leather neck will drown his dying hiss
with his piss cocky refrain of:

Ya, can't touch this!

While putting America's boot up his ass!

Nobody blew up America.

Even if the New York Times
Is burned to the ground
With a torch from the Washington Post.

Nobody blew up America

Even if Teddy Kennedy
Gives up his booze
To live on a diet of treacle and toast.

Nobody blew up America

Who filled French wine bottles
With the blood of 200,000 G. I.'s
and kept German off the labels?

Who melted Hiroshima in nuclear cloud
Allowing occupied Japan
To buy up my land
And throw my ass into the street?

Who threw a wall around Berlin
So that Helmut Kohl doesn't speak Russian?
Whose boycott sprung Nelson Mandela from jail?
Whose moral leadership gave the bishop his tutu?
Who won't look the gift horse in the mouth?
Who lives in the North, and not the South?

Who opposes tax cuts on my wealth
So as to bribe me to slavery,
With my own cash,
As I beg 'em to care for my failing health?

Who dey in box laughing up dey sleeves
At fifteen slant-eyed aliens in one room living?
Who dey two years later paying dem aliens rent,
While polishing dey bling-bling?

Who, who, who - o- o-o ? You know who.
Nome saying?

In the long march of history,
Who told Sojourner the truth?
Who attacked Crispus?
Why did Attucks die?
Which party freed the slave?
Which party's moral stance
gave you the option to vote?
Which party promises welfare cradle to grave?
Who is it helps those keep jobs?
Who is it can stir up the mobs?
Who were the Dixiecrats?
Whose nickname in Senatorial cloakroom is "Sheets"?
Who run the railroad overground?
Who run the railroad underground?
Who slaves?
Who dispossessed from their nation?
Who cinching tighter notch on dey belts?
Who scalping reservation casino pelts?
Who sits on dey asses begging for reparation?
Who first run up San Juan hill?
Who on return did the Klan try to kill?
Who is the target of "Fool 'em today"?
Who were messmates, C.B.'s and Stevedores
In the Big War?
Which South Bronx homeboy general defeated Iraq?
Which Uncle Tomma
Calling Condeleeza a skeeza
Confused her with dey mamma?

Who, who, who -o-o-o? You know who.
Nome saying?

Who do y'all state we're in good hands with,
Only to find income, home ownership, and education down,
While incarcerations soar and our will to give up?
Who sanctified is storing up in heaven?
Here on Earth,
Who is it owns Channel 11?
Via whose com-
munications did Black ownership
of B.E.T. and Motown
get mowed down?
Who say, "No Justice, No Peace"?
Who say Black racism don't exist?
Quien dice, "Sabe Justicia, Sabe Paz"?
Who be the majority minority?
Who dey who say
America blew up?

America didn't blow up.
America won't blow up.
America can't blow up.


America didn't blow up.
America is not just a country 'tis of thee.
America's more than two massive towers
Even aflame,
Abutting the sea.
America's not the Pentagon,
The Golden Gate,
Fred Flintstone, or
the stone garden at Arlington
artistically framing patriotic dead,
America's a constitutional construct
Of equality before law
Carried in our heads.

America won't blow up.
America's bedrock solid continental
foundation of fraternity, equality and liberty
Cannot be spindled, folded, mutilated or bent
to submission
By those for whom
Perdition awaits,
Not Hori at jewel belled gates.
America will be preserved by blessings
From on high
And well-armed, well-trained
Patriotic wells of citizen-soldiers nigh.

America can't blow up.
America is a quest for those yearning to be free.
America's the last best habitat for folks who see
Martin's mountain top dream hazy wavering overseas
America is a dream
America is just a dream
Just a dream
Just a dream
Just a dream

Sometimes, a dream deferred,
Sometimes, a dream detoured,
And yet, after all is criticized and damned,
A just dream,
A must dream,
To blood cuz like me,
and, hopefully,


Saturday, September 10, 2005


A Prayer Prior to Shock and Awe

by Victor Om Shanti

O Lord, as we bow our heads before thee,
On this memorial of the slaughter,
By poisonous gas,
5000 children,
and men
in Halabja, Iraq,

Grant us, O Lord, the courage,

That we,

Who suffered no losses of loved ones,

Who on that day,
and even today,
Were, and are, ignorant of its horrors,
Will be able to turn the other cheek,
Revealing, O Lord, our blind eye to their
Continued suffering,
So that it will not weigh upon us.
In your name, Jesus Buddha Allah,
Let us at the gates of Hell,
Close our eyes,
Stop our ears,
Place a sweet lozenge,
in our mouths to quench.
Before we fall down,
Grant us O Lord,
To fill our pockets full of posies
Strip endless gravesites of their roses
Fragrantly dispelling the stench
from our noses
Let us on the eve of destruction,
Ignore the Kurds and weigh their plight
Against the measure of our comfortable delights
In peril of disruption

As we talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
and talk,
Allow us, Heavenly Mother Father,
The dispensation,
To hope against hope,
That with one more resolve to put forth a resolution,
We will not be swallowed into the maw,
Of the coming, inevitable, conflagration.

Ah! Men.


Friday, September 09, 2005


Chant For War All Around Me

by Victor Om Shanti

I want to stand in the street
Screaming profanities at helmeted cops
Defending national policies I oppose.

I want to weep openly, unabashed,
In rippling warm sun,
gazing at Old Glory
Wafting in the breeze.

I want to sip mocchacinos under mindnumbing neon
Ensconced in Starbuck's sanitorii
To spill the latte of labrette pierced cafe revolutionaries
Playing verbal tennis across red-plaid table clothes
With a bottle of good Chianti shared by friends

We must settle tonight,
One way of the other,
"Social Security needs to be lock boxed"

I want to run bare-assed naked in the desert sun just for fun
While overhead voyeurs by satellite spy,
Then go by.

I want to handle snakes
During High Mass
Giving, all the while, praise to Satan
In the Church of the Open Society

I want to spread the gospel of God day and night
Blind to the evils that give me the right
Put Salvation Army icons on nuclear missiles
Then worry if my lawn's been converted to thistle.

Alone in my top-down rag-top Lex-Mercedes-Lamborghini
I want to tool down Wall Street
The envy of men,
Leered at by women

Recoil in horror at the oozing of blood
From grilled red meat

I want to openly distrust my government
And trust that my country will watch my back
I want to parade with pride
In gold lame dress
While Bible thumping
Decry a moral mess

I want to rub shoulders in the land of the brave
With decorated combat cowards
Where whenever is heard
A discouraging word
A government program is considered at right

I don't want to speak German or Japanese
On Massa's farm
Hands bloodied from sun to sun
Picking cotton, hoe'en fields

I don't want to worry
That the yellow star
On my tattered jacket
Might attract attention
That my papers aren't in order
Or live in barbed wire fortress
Because this week
My race is not in fashion.

I don't want to live within
A fascist monarchy
George Washington rowed
An icy river to escape

I'd rather have protection from government
Than buy it
I'd rather die free
Than live a safely cocooned slave

I want to suspect the press
Is government controlled
Not know it.

I want to sit and shit
At minimum wage
In the 104th floor stall worrying
If the baby has enough diapers,
Not that the fuselage of a 767
Will look badly reflected in the mirror
When I feel the catastrophe of six thousand world-class sisters and brothers
Native New Yorkers incinerated by sons of pig-fucked mothers
I want to say

Not war
God Bless
Not Just war
Infinite Vengeance?
In the Deity's name.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005


Thanks Monika

by Victor Om Shanti

Smooth words
From rough facades flow
Inviting mirth
In listener feeling low.
Lofty lines of intellect grow
From fertile minds
Of those born low.
Suffice it said
That what I know
Most valuable, most dear,
Comes not from them
Who crow
About their attractive beauty external,
(or so they think so),
But from them whose lives are eternal
Battles with -
- too much weight, that children stare,
- or ancient birthdate, that brings grey hair,
- a sexual slant others hate, because of fear,
all the assorted woes
of the shallow-minded.

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