How’s your Hedge Fund now Baby
By walt | December 31, 2009
How’s your Hedge Fund now Baby by walt stewart c 2009
Momma’s holding kitchen court there’s nothing to eat
Says she’s got to rest her weary feet
Ain’t seen it this bad since Papa lost the still
When the tea pot boiled over on the S & L bill
Chorus: and Momma said to Daddy
How’s your hedge fund now baby
You still think it’s just an accident
It’s seven come eleven with side effects
these money changers got no horse sense
She says it’s a mater of g-eights dysfunction
Playing Texas hold-em at the g-twenty junction
It’s no fun trimming hedges in the big apple
When blind credit raters take over the chapel
Chorus:
In walked the judge wearing his derivative suit
Money leaking from the soul of his boot
Daddy say’s to Momma where’d you get this crap
She Says been doing my banking at the Laundromat
Chorus
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When our belt gets pulled real tight
By walt | December 30, 2009
When our belt gets pulled real tight
w. stewart copy right 2009
Maslow’s root Chakras
insist we survive.
Surfing chaos like a raptor
T-rex around the hive.
Huntin strange attractors
Buffalo dressed all white.
Eyes open widest when
The belt gets pulled real tight.
Credit defaults, Count-in chickens
Or did the egg get the nod
Sent our house of sandycards
Diving like a Cod.
Flying from rubble of
A falling green façade.
Can’t call S.E.C.
Cause their the Vice Squad.
Eyes fly wide open When our belts get jerked real tight,
I’m at tent city its stone soup again tonight.
Can’t pay the doctor bills since the bank dropped their kites.
They sold out my grand kids where’s our Bill of Rights.
EYE above Pyramid
Hollow as our Chest .
Since Captain Jack and Burning Bushes
Sailed away like the rest.
Sent the dueling spirals
And Darwin a new dawn.
Wall papered book of faces
Texted on and on an on.
Eyes fly wide open When our belts get jerked real tight,
I’m at tent city its stone soup again tonight.
Can’t pay the doctor bills since the bank dropped their kites.
They sold out my grand kids, who turned out the lite.
Mayan hour glass is empty
Spring forward then fall back.
Manic tribe of locust
Fighting for some PAC.
Green Zeus we trusted
Left us an empty sack.
Earth will survive herself
When our belt gets j-e-r-k-e-d real tight.
Baby’s rock-in cradle
There’s honey in the nest.
How can we sustain her
Full ripe Breast.
We are all in this web
T’was Nixon said it best.
But Gaia plays Dominoes
Better than the rest.
Eyes fly wide open When our belts get jerked real tight,
I’m at tent city its stone soup again tonight.
Can’t pay the doctor bills since the bank dropped their kite.
They sold out our grand kids where’s our Bill of Rights.
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Jagged Old Wound
By walt | December 30, 2009
Jagged Old Wound walt stewart 11-18-09, copy right
He was my hero, on that stormy night
Wish I‘d done more in that fire fight
Should have been me, it could of been me
He pushed me away, I wish it been me
My heart hurts can’t think at all
The tears are here but they won’t fall
Oh where are you honey, not feeling too sunny
I just don’t know why he had to go ?
Maybe a new truck will help my pain
Some chocolate chips or … cocaine
A trip to Cabo to smoke more pot
Gotta fill this hole where he got shot
Stuck in this sand, done my share of harm
Ain’t coming back, fifth tour’s a charm
This war’s been hell, its eating our lunch
I’m coming home baby, God I miss him so much
Been home sometime now, sleep comes in small
Waitress knows to seat me, in the chair against the wall
People drive so crazy here, they just got to cease
Don’t get too close now, I just want my peace
Maybe a new truck will help my pain
Some chocolate chips or … cocaine
A trip to Cabo smoke more pot
Gotta fill this hole where they are not.
Topics: Lyrics | 1 Comment »
United Breaks Guitars
By walt | November 24, 2009
Pretty clever, don’t ya think? Clever this is Briliant, thank you so much Dave for not being a Victim. I love that you used your creativity to flip this situation into lemon aid. Bless you. Walt
A musician named Dave Carroll recently had difficulty with United Airlines. United apparently damaged his treasured Taylor guitar ($3500) during a flight. Dave spent over 9 months trying to get United to pay for damages caused by baggage handlers to his custom Taylor guitar. During his final exchange with the United Customer Relations Manager, he stated that he was left with no choice other than to create a music video for youtube exposing their lack of cooperation. The Manager responded : “Good luck with that one, pal”.
So he posted a retaliatory video on YouTube. The video has since received over 5.5 million hits. United Airlines contacted the musician and attempted settlement in exchange for pulling the video. Naturally his response was: “Good luck with that one, pal”.
Taylor Guitars sent the musician 2 new custom guitars in appreciation for the product recognition from the video that has led to a sharp increase in orders.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YGc4zOqozo&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEqvCktdSBM&NR=1 hitler blames United
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MY Boss “You’re FIRED”
By walt | October 27, 2009
Your Late
Yes I was ill
But You’re late
I know
I was Depressed
You’re FIRED sign here
Thank you
I am feeling better already.
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Sweaty Axial Greased Men
By walt | October 21, 2009
Mom needed help raising 10 children
You took us on jobs where
Men brought water up from the earth
They laughed and cussed at
Each other in the Texas heat
Lumbering tools bent deep
Sweaty axial grease men
Who shaped pipe, rope,
Wrenches and steel
Into surgeon’s wands
Coaxing the nectar upward
Men who long new
The value of Aqua Dulce
Before it was bottled up
Back when it and childrem flowed free
Men who knew how to find the real liquid gold
They knew they had to protect it
You gave me all you had
A livelihood of knowledge
Now I drink your memory Dad
Like a Sailor drinks his beer
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GOLD and your portfolio
By walt | October 14, 2009
When I was growing up it seemed we where always hearing news of Fort Knox and all the gold inside its vaults. Have you heard anything lately? Oh I know I could Google it right now. But No one seems to talk about the old standard except maybe Ron Paul. I wonder why especially since the dollar is deflating and Gold is Sky rocketing. Oh in a past life I was in the Market and in the Offshore Oil Business. Sometimes I find myself dreaming about it at night, then I wake up the next day (like this morning) and wonder about this world and its illusions. If the Financial world was a piece of art I can see it is unbalanced and has too weak a armature.
So it seems to me all the financial advisers are in the dark ages when they tell you Gold Should only be 5% of your investment portfolio. Remember when Gold was $340 an ounce? Da! I say minimum investment in Gold should be between 8-15% of your investment. We never should have gotten off the Gold and Silver Standard.
Reminds me of Peter Sellers as Chance the Gardner you know the movie with Shirley McClain? Can’t remember the movie title though. Any way if you have not seen it get it. Very Funny!
OK I am going to the Studio now enough of this balancing of my check book stuff. Thanks for helping me purge all that before I go.
Topics: , America | No Comments »
Boy’s find things in the dirt.
By walt | October 3, 2009
Summertime, playing marbles with your little brother
Lagging crystals, bowlees, and cat’s-eye’s in the dirt
Hearing the barking of your saxophone
To the beat of square, circle, triangle, and star shaped notes
Vibrating through your window screen
Raked through each tinny opening freely
Squawking bluesy rhythms escaped
Unlike your image hidden in your dark underworld.
Us outside free in the sunlight with your music
Never saw your face, wondered, where you loosing your marbles like me?
I know now you had found them in that darkness.
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The Rakuist Lunch
By walt | October 1, 2009
Exhaling into the Earth
Centering her skin
Initiating a opening
Spirit penetrates her fertile core.
Life pulls in all directions
Generating a globular shape
Death beckons the fruit to its funeral pyre.
Smoke, steam, and fumes billow
Dancing oxygen starved onlookers
Timing their alchemic attack.
Clawing into hot coals and ash 
Revealing matured sustenance
Results of the sacred dance.
Fiery hot petals pealed open
Revealing rows of golden beauty of the gods.
Gingerly salting, biting membranes
Savoring, swallowing cells ruptured
Love’s released essence.
Potter devours his a-maze-ing meal.
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Train Trestles (the lucky shot)
By walt | September 29, 2009
In late Spring we would go and pick blackberries along the railroad tracks near the trestles that crossed White Oak bayou near 34th Street. Once my brothers and a few of our friends got hungry and decided to forage for some berries to eat. It was hot and we where sweaty and sandy from a dirt clod fight we just finished with a neighboring band of boys we didn’t know to well.
I looked for a stick to move the brier vine with before sticking my hand in like my Dad had taught us. “Scare any snakes off before you put your hand inside a bush to pick a Blackberry” he always warned. I found the right stick and began feasting on some of the juicy fruit. Blackberries have a range of flavors depending on their ripeness. The still red ones are bitter and tart, The Black ones are less tart but the purple black ones they are my favorite sweet and juicy. Some times we would pick some to take home making a pouch with our tee shirts but mom would get mad cause it left a purple stain she couldn’t wash out. We seemed to be eating more than collecting.
I HEARD THE RUMBLE OF A TRAIN COMING WAY BEFORE I SAW IT ROUND THE BEND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TRESTLES. It was the late morning freighter heading into Houston from the North, The engine whizzed buy and we waved and watched awhile then started harvesting again. It’s hard to focus at a simple task of picking berries within 15 feet of tons of steel whizzing by at 25 MPH. So I looked up and saw the caboose crossing the trestles coming toward us. Mr.Caboose leaning out the window to see what we where doing, he was waving to us. I had just picked the biggest blackberry of the day when the Caboose came along side my brother Steve . I hollared over to Steve “WATCH THIS ” (which I now know as his famous last words) I wound up and threw the berry towards the man in the caboose waving out his window. He did not see it coming. the lead was perfect as a quarterback to a wide reciever going on a post pattern.
SPLAT! Blackberry hit him right between the eyes making a reddish purple spot that exploaded like he had been shot. We couldn’t help but started laughing then I saw him pick up this radio to call the Engineer. Instantly we heard the train brakes begin to squeal and the whistle blow. We looked at each other dropped our snake sticks and began running and yelling for the other boys to get the hell out of there. The others did not know what was happening but instinct kicked in and they took off too. We where long gone before they got that train stopped but hid in the woods for another hour in silence just in case. You can bet we where as hidden as those blackberries we where searching for earlier.
So If your reading this Mr. Caboose consider this my Appology. I’m Sorry! Can’t help but still chuckle, when I think about it though.
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