Orange Julius Caesar 

By Benjamin Shapiro
New Caesar hath orange tinge’d skinne,

And, thus, Caesar’s skinne is thinne,

For Caesar calls his palace dump,

And prefers to bed in Tower Trump, 

And believes not that which he doth not see,

Unless tis sung by nice Nazi, 

And then the sides break into twane,

A silly thought for thinkers sane,

For orange skinned Caesar believes in naught,

Besides that which is sold and bought.

White Privilege, Mark II

By Benjamin Shapiro
Stop oppressing my race

And getting in my face 

Always ready to fight 

For some equal rights. 

Dammit, if you’re equal to me

How can I claim superiority?

Society is careening off the edge…

This sums up white privilege.

Que Sara,  Ha Ha 

By Benjamin Shapiro
Asked my magic 8-ball,

Will I be a rich and famous writer 

                Someday?

We looked at each other

                    And we laughed

                                          And laughed.

Fight with Love 

By Benjamin Shapiro
The temptation is there

To meet hate with hate

And it’s not rare,

To embrace love too late,

For hatred’s a virus

Spread through a crowd 

It always mires us

In funereal shroud. 

And loving thy brother 

Can be hard to do

When he is other

And you are, too.

Charlottesville 8/12/17

By Benjamin Shapiro
Hate is a genetic disorder, 

Spread generation to generation, 

It leads to borders

And tribal nations. 

It’s a most human sickness,

For which there’s a cure

If you search through the mess

For that thing so pure. 

It’s love and letting go

Of old lines drawn in blood,

And when love flows 

It drowns hate in a flood. 
So look beyond skin

And perceived sin

Then healing begins,

Only then does healing begin.

Darkness Without,  Light Within 

By Benjamin Shapiro
I sometimes need

A dark, quiet day

Drapes drawn 

Sounds banished away 

To find some piece

Deep inside 

Beneath static

It likes to hide

Like white noise spirits

Yearning to be heard

Caged within 

Like a bashful bird

That sings sweet songs

Pleasant to ears

A melancholy tune

That only I hear

But is drowned out

By the day to day

And needs to be heard

Lest it float away.

DPRK Blues 

By Benjamin Shapiro

Does this all end in fiery death

Perhaps we’re taking our final breaths,

Realize that fire will rain on us all,

Knowledge won’t save us from this fall.

Come Quickly, Muse

By Benjamin Shapiro

Waiting for the quiet to come 

And the voice where ideas are from

To speak and cast the muse’s spell

Until then I’m stuck in the hell

Of ever pushing enormous rock,

With chiseled words which say, “writer’s block,”

And words won’t come until I hear that song. 

Come quickly, muse, it’s been too long.

A Good Death

By Benjamin Shapiro
To stand proud before death 

Of a life you made full,

To take your final breath

Without blubbering like a fool,

To close your eyes

Like the cover of a book,

Holding onto no lies

Giving no backward looks,

Only holding out hands

To grasp those of your guide,

No unfinished plans, 

Toward dreamless sleep you glide,

A life fulfilled

All time distilled 

In one final, joyous cry:

That’s the best way to die.

Hung Over to Dry 

By Benjamin Shapiro 

Sunlight filters through 

Empty bottles on the sill,

World turned green

After drinking my fill,

Head pounds with 

Hangover and regret,

Yearning for life

Beyond being wrecked, 

Tears and tearing hair,

Shakes and screams

This is not the future

From childhood dreams. 

Promise to stop, 

But bottle lies next to bed,

Just a swig

To clear my head. 

Clarity won’t come

Through liquid fire,

Angry at myself,

So very tired,

And I rise

To fall again, 

Bottle in hand,

And it won’t end. 
With bottle to mouth

It never ends.