Those ghosts and goblins
haunting our nation cage young
children, deport decency.
~
Yet the real evil
lurking in those heartless men
remains concealed in shadow
Those ghosts and goblins
haunting our nation cage young
children, deport decency.
~
Yet the real evil
lurking in those heartless men
remains concealed in shadow
It’s not the weather
that’s the source of Congress’s
sudden horripilation.
~
Let’s let those cold creeps
get screaming heebie-jeebies
from their daunting task at hand.
Don’t you sometimes wish
we could be as wonderful
and wise as we were at three?
~
Some folk still believe,
even though they’re not still three,
that they’re wise and wonderful.
Ahh! Sunday at last!
Our momentary reprieve
from the instant news cycle.
~
We all need to pause,
recenter, find our place in
the natural order of things.
These autumn mornings
shrouded in luminous veils…
alabaster radiance!
~
Such beauty catches
the eye, transports mind and heart
to another realm.
When some congressmen
behave like storming morons,
we need better lightning rods.
~
If we could convince
the electorate to strike,
we’d shock’em back under par.
If they’d spend just half
the energy listening
spent planning their rebuttal…
~
Sadly, this is true
of all of us. As the song
goes, “When will we ever learn?”.
When nobody’s home,
why keep knocking? Some doors will
stay forever closed.
~
Persistent pounding
on doors long since painted shut,
still supplies satisfaction.
Why paste a smile
on a sad face? Isn’t that
what circus clowns do?
~
Incongruity
between mood and affect
is often diagnostic.
When did the Little
Engine that Wouldn’t replace
The Little Engine that Could?
~
An Engine that won’t
run even though capable
surely NEEDS to be replaced.
Despite desires
to become a timely scribe,
still the pen falters…
~
All poets falter
from time to time. Scribing is
easy but it’s hard to rhyme.
Busy days make for
poemless nights, but still we’ll
never write it off.
~
In these crazy times,
how can we tell write from wrong
or distinguish fiend from foe?
Sunlight still breaks through
though you can’t escape the grey
on this cloud-filled day.
~
Long awaited rain
brings the promise of relief
to parched pasture and meadow.
Don can rest assured;
History will regard him a
“Superlative President”.
~
Extraordinary
to be sure as a heartless
wonder and a Russian tool.
If there were a prize
for temper tantrum throwing
who would be some nominees?
~
No Caucus needed!
There will be one clear winner
by the most bigly landslide.
Some say anything
to get their heart’s desire
yet find no satisfaction.
~
When integrity
and desire intersect,
satisfaction can be found.
Searching the White House
for common decency and
common sense, but it’s not there.
~
I beg to differ!
Decency and common sense
live… in The Secret Service.
Circle the wagons!
The bourgeois are revolting!
All peasants man the towers!
~
Royalty, of course,
will collect the benefits.
The peasants will never know.
Just a pile of
manure and a pitchfork is
all he needs to keep his base.
~
Is this what they mean
when they say mushroom farmers
must be great pitchmen?
I thought I saw him,
my fellow poet, but he
took his words and flew away.
~
Again time escapes!
It’s like nailing down jello…
or some other orange fellow.
Need a whisperer
to calm this presidential
bucking bronco down.
~
There is not enough
Xylazine on any farm
to put that nag off his feed!
Stuttering along,
singing off key, Orange Clown
makes a mockery.
~
How foolish must a
Jester be, to misconstrue
ridicule as mirth?
This little piggy
might have to eat crow and cry
on Fox News all the way home.
~
But in his own mind
he fancies he’s Jack Horner
and our nation is his plum.
This rising tide won’t
lift all boats; it’s likely to
sink one leaky ship of state.
~
What hopefully sinks
is this ship of fools disguised
as a ship of state.