E-ISSN 2457-0265


Vol. 4 Issue 3

John Kaniecki

If I Should Fall Before You


If I should fall before you

Know I fought to the end

If I should fall before you

Know that I was your friend


Rivers flow endlessly

Never filling the sea

Rivers flow endlessly

Into the misty gray fog of eternity


Some say there is a land beyond the great expanse

Where we shall sing and dance

Some say there is a land beyond the great expanse

I for one am willing to take that chance


If I should fall before you

I will welcome you in

If I should fall before you

Take comfort

We shall meet again



For Every Wrong There Is A Right


For every wrong there is a right

For the darkness there is a light

Don’t be fooled by the night

Don’t let them say there is no day

There is always the narrow way


Take the straight gate

Though all is a loss

Take the straight gate

Embrace the wicked cross

For when we walk through death’s door

And life is no more

You shall have to answer

For every deed and word


For every wrong there is a right

You pick and choose

For every wrong there is a right

One way you win

One way you lose


For every wrong there is a right

Fight valiantly with all your might

Live with the knowledge

You reside in God’s sight

For every wrong there is a right




Cheeseburger Porn


Steak is very nice

Some culinary wizard serving a hot slice

But heed this wicked advice

Sometimes a cheeseburger hits the spot

A nice juicy one of course!

With the disease of extra cheese please


You see the perfect body

Full breasts and long luscious legs

A figure Michelangelo would gladly carve

Well that is fine and divine

But sometimes you don’t need the perfect ten

Maybe two pudgy fives in enthusiasm

Perhaps having a real orgasm


Let’s pretend is school boys’ fantasy

And pornography is a cruel reality

The obscene on the screen

With butchering brutality

No they’re not enjoying it

That’s why it’s called acting

Getting paid to get laid


But it ain’t one size fits all

At least the best I can recall

Sex is a funny funny thing

People love both

Big booty and the snooty

Girls emaciated are celebrated

Hot isn’t measured with a thermometer

A freak is unique for sure


And thus Cheeseburger Porn is born

The pickle on the side extremely large

But when you take that bite

You realize something ain’t right

Even with fries and a milkshake

Fake is fake

Even when they quake shake and break

But you take what you take

So if you want to do some slumming

Cheeseburger Porn is coming




Some Ragtime Blues


The pen is my piano every letter a note

But pray tell how does one keep it in tune?

In an electric age with an electric rage

Feel the power in the page

Radically rocking and simply shocking

Electricity is a true blue

“You can do better than that”

Prods Gerard

The hardest taskmaster is your greatest friend

Unless you’re a slave of course

In which case

He’s just one miserable son of a bitch

Are we having a failure to communicate?

Which of us are truly free?

Not the miserable misers loving their money

Hate saturates the wicked mind

With a sweet thick sticky syrup

Flies and wasps circle

Hear the buzzing song of wrong

Biting and stinging at every single chance

While Jesus slept in the gardens

Once you lay down the melody

The chords follow naturally

I never listen to the clumsy clamor of the critics

Show me don’t tell says the ancient adage

Nebuchadnezzar ravaged the holy temple of the Lord

And put the Chosen People to the sword

I’m feeling fine singing my song of Palestine

Pacifism my friend is a means to an end

I shall simply love my enemy

See the gospel influence

Hey Janice Joplin you died far too young

But even you with all your fire of fury

You could never outdo a heavenly choir

You see once you seen the light

Necessity makes you do right

Unless you are of vain Lucifer and his ilk

Heaven and hell

On Earth they coexist

Some but only some

Will hear the beauty infused in this.




Borrowing Blind Tom


A freak and a mirror hit hard

Who then is this Blind Tom?

His dark hollow eyes swallow the sunset

And the glorious rays exit

In Tom’s enchanted fingers


I never knew a slave who didn’t sing the blues

Or a pauper too busy for a free meal

They electrified the poet’s finest words

Just cause they could


Blind Tom didn’t play piano he became music

His fingers fluttering wings of the hummingbird

Or so slow you don’t even see the river flow

Fast to slow then slow to fast

In a moment the future meets the past


“Say hey Blind Tom, play us Dixie”

It is not a request

The master is speaking and he is Lord

Cruel and cold yes, but still Lord

Of this miserable hell called a plantation

Tears well in Tom’s eyes as he plays the song of oppression

He cannot hang his piano by the waters of Babylon

Tom is Vashti’s bitch

And all the cool cats know it


Funniest thing

It’ll make you laugh long and hard

Till you fall off of your Archie Bunker chair

Being born void of sight

Blind Tom

Can’t tell black from white

Except that on the plantation there is fright

And on the piano

Keys of delight







“Follow the money” says Ken Brown

“Follow the money”

Some things are worth saying twice

Says the wise owl “Hoot! Hoot!”

Or the snickering vulture “Yum! Yum!”

Hawks and doves circle in the wind

As carefully aimed Surface to Air Missiles

Target those who dare raise a peep of protest

Until they say “Uncle”

Uncle S.A.M. that is


So you see center stage the stalwart

Blond haired blue eyed US Marine

John Wayne wannabe

Waving old glory grandly in the grim wind

Some false flag attacks goes down

Adding jet fuel to the fires of 911

There is a prolonged air campaign

As generals and scientists test their toys

And then comes the wholesale slaughter

(Lying about collateral damage of course)

(Which is a euphemism for slaughtering women and children)

Or so they hope


All the while with a grand smile in slickest style

They grab the resources, oil, opium, no matter what

Their greedy grubby hands take all they got

It will be the war to end all wars

But we’ve been in this movie theatre a long while

And we’ve seen this scene over and over

They aren’t so bright we are just so stupid

Beer and chips as we watch Sunday football

Jesus says it’s okay or so says Reverend Money Bags


I pause for a moment for the wounded and slain

I hush my heart for those who died in vain

For those who lose their limbs

Or are damaged in the secret places deep within


Somewhere a banker with a martini raises a toast

“To war” he says in a grand boast

Trillions to be made and so much more

War the greatest con the biggest score





The Crack of Light from the Door


The Abyss of perpetual blackness


Like the ticking of the finite clock

Click, click, click

As my mortality manifests

Aching muscles, memory loss

The overwhelming crushing weight of my iron cross


The crack of light from the door

In the hurry of my worry

Something I failed to notice before

There is a God of Love

Of that I am sure

There is a God of Love

Wholesome and pure

There is a God of Love

And much, much more


That faint ray of light

Potent in power magnificent in might

Creeping in from behind the eternal portal

Suggesting that I am more than mortal


Bringing much needed hope

A cosmic cure

The crack of light from the door







Anna banana from Montana had a cabana in Havana

Listening to Santana

Oh she would sit on my knee

And I’d sing her silly songs full of glee

But alas little girls get old

And I had to be less bold

So we would draw pictures of silly monsters

The one I held with greatest worth

Was of course Bert

Maybe you cannot understand

As you are not privy

You are on the outside looking in

But when Anna reads this

I am sure she’ll feel bliss and grin


Anna, Anna I will always be your friend

I hope you can cope

And the laughing smiles will never end

But I know how the world is cruel

And how the haters and manipulators

Play the innocent for the fool

Never be their tool!

Live by the golden rule


I wish I could see you grow to a beautiful woman

But alas it must pass as it is not part of God’s plan

And when life hits you into a daze

Cause it happens to us all

I want you to recall

Those innocent happier days

Keep them by your side

Let them be strength to guide you

On the path of virtue


I shall see you in the great beyond Anna







About the Poet

John Kaniecki writes prose and poetry. His poetry has appeared in over one hundred outlets. His poetry is always in a state of flux. He wishes to bring his poetry into this new age and then some. He works as an assistant to a lawyer. He is also a peace activist and a minister in the Church of Christ. He has over a dozen books either published by small publishers or self-published. His long term goal is to have his writing support his financial needs. His poem “Tea With Joe Hill” won the Joe Hill Poetry Contest in 2012. His memoirs “More Than The Madness” finished in the top ten in the 2015 Westbow Manuscript Search. His poetry chapbook “The Second Coming of Victoria” was a quarter finalist in the 2015 Mary Ballard Poetry Chapbook Contest.

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Published by The Alternative.