We live today within a society that has rejected centuries of tradition and the resultant upheaval has led to gay marriage, transgender bathrooms, women in combat, sanctuary cities, the war against national icons deemed to be racist, and many other radical social changes. Ipso facto, nothing is more amusing than the indignant, outraged, politically correct fascists screaming for the restoration of a traditional presidency. No doubt modern times demand different methods and it is nothing short of brilliant for the presidency to utilize Twitter in order to bypass the Big Media brainwash machine. In a society that is in total upheaval on so many fronts, only the most naïve would expect the presidency to remain a traditional artifact, still operating in the same antiquated manner of other national leaders who antedated the current tumult.
quote by Catman Cohen (2017)
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Take Me to Duck Heaven
In that glistening azure pond
I had a favorite
A duck
I called
Tawnablu
A quacker kind of
Bird
Recognizable by the
Aquamarine
Feathers
Atop her bobbing head
She swam aloof from
The rest
And refused all bread
Crumbs
Thrown her way
Even the finest bits
Collected from week old
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poem by Catman Cohen
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The Sex Confessions
The Bed
Your Mouth
My Touch
Our Lips
It’s a fever
In the night
Forbidden
Forbidden
Desecr ated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever
The Flame
Your Cries
My Salt
Our Wounds
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poem by Catman Cohen
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Rose Hips Lady
Rose hips lady
Your field is ripe
Bury my torn body
In that rain-soaked night
Taste those sweet confessions
On your baby breath
Lift this wounded flag
Into your burning nest
Oh, yes, I will
I will
Rose hips lady
Your field is ripe
Bury my torn body
In that rain-soaked night
Tame the roaring tiger
Never lets you rest
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song performed by Clyde "Sudsy" O'Neil, music by Catman Cohen, lyrics by Catman Cohen from Confessions of a Shadow (2011)
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Poet or Sinner
You knew me when I built monsters
Before the days when you bled
You knew me when I surrendered
To the nightmares in my head
You were just a child
Nothing’s ever changed
I see the child in you
Like some eternal flame
Come take my hand
Share my lonely dinner
Tell me if you think
I’m a poet or sinner
Poet or sinner
Tell me what I am
Poet or sinner
Be the angel who can
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song performed by Catman Cohen, music by Catman Cohen, lyrics by Catman Cohen from How I Want to Dream: the Catman Chronicles 3 (2009)
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Give Me Back My Shirt
You stole my shirt again
The one with stains
Beneath my armpits
You lied and said
The shirt somehow fell
Into your suitcase
A dark black shadow
That hurled itself off a cliff
And landed inside your
Sad blonde soul
And when you sleep alone at night
In the naked stretch of your wine-soaked skin
Do you smell my harsh manly aroma
In the pillow of your theft?
Do you wet yourself in the taste of
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If I Could Divide the Smell of Flowers
If I could divide the smell of flowers
I’d send some to the falsely charged
Locked in prison cells
Send some to the lonely seniors
Trapped in apartment hells
Send some to the weary miners
Sweating beneath the ground
Send some to the invisible people
Hauling our garbage ‘round
Some answers in life are so easy
Like zero plus zero is none
But how do we divide the smell of flowers
So their fragrance is shared by everyone?
If I could divide the smell of flowers
I’d pass some to the frightened animals
Caged against their wills
Pass some to the dying birds
Choking on oil spills
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song performed by Henry Iglesias, music by Catman Cohen, lyrics by Catman Cohen from How I Want to Live: the Catman Chronicles 2 (2005)
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I never held any preference between Republicans and Democrats, since I always believed that, although both parties diverge in terms of social policies, they both bow down to the same Wall Street puppet-masters. However, a rabid lunacy has overtaken the Democrats and their Big Media proxies. Sadly, it manifests in the most pernicious forms of racial, sexual, and political neo-McCarthyism. If a person can be linked closely to a Russian, then he may be accused of treason. If a man is the least bit aggressive with a woman, then he might be tarnished as a predator. If a white has the audacity to contradict a black or brown, then he faces ludicrous denunciation as a racist who is guilty of privilege. In the future, historians will look back upon this chapter in USA history, in which a contagion of politically correct fascism, aka, neo-McCarthyism, swept across the land, and they may determine that the cumulative damage to the national psyche constitutes a cultural Black Death, far more nefarious to the human spirit than the original medieval plague."
quote by Catman Cohen (2017)
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There is a strange hypocrisy preached by the politically correct fascists, aka, neo-McCarthyites, of the nation, who imagine themselves to be members of a progressive intelligentsia. In their minds, it is perfectly acceptable to denounce the residents of heartland states in the most vicious, pejorative, terms, e.g., hicks, rubes, inbreds, hillbillies, rednecks, bible thumpers, etc. However, in the minds of the bi-coastal intelligentsia, it is entirely unacceptable for those same heartland residents to cast analogous negative epithets upon those groups who constitute the new Tyranny of Minorities, e.g., LGBT, black supremacists, illegal aliens, Atheists, etc., all aiming to impose their norms upon the heartland. Membership within any minority does not grant special exemptions nor privileges and, most importantly, does not excuse any egregious lapses of social etiquette. Until the politically correct fascists learn to respect their own heartland neighbors, they best cease didactic, condescending, lectures about how they expect others to treat them.
quote by Catman Cohen (2017)
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The Crime of Being Me
On a brutal winter night
We stood bravely side by side
Against snowballs launched our way
By the enemies of our kind
In a graveyard’s mourning light
We both choked up, cried and cried
As the angels lifted him
On Death’s gloomy wings of flight
And you declared me dead, my brother
For the crime of being me
For all the faults I have
Well, I still cannot believe
And my only wish for you, my brother
Is someday you’ll understand
How it feels to be a corpse
Walking amongst your fellow man
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poem by Catman Cohen
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