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Month: September 2020

Tangled Webs

Every problem tried to solve,
Other problems then evolve.
Social, private, otherwise;
From every corner problems rise.
 
Marriage once for girls and boys,
‘Til other couples made some noise.
Girl wants girl and boy wants boy,
Bend the rules to bring them joy. 
 
So California passed a law
Domestically to fix this flaw.
Partnerships can now be formed
And ceremonies now performed.
 
Problem solved but problems rise,
Discovered now quite by surprise;
In the court of family law,
Revealed within the law, a flaw.
 
Man met woman, fell in love;
Perfect pair, hand to a glove.
Married soon then years go by,
Divorcing each they say, ‘Goodbye.’
 
The victim of a marriage wreck,
The man’s ex-wife collects a check;
But California’s laws provide
When she remarries he can slide.
 
She meets a woman she adores
Move in together, share their drawers.
Avail themselves of partner laws
To answer nature’s call and cause.
 
So off to court he leads the charge,
His ex is ‘married,’ livin’ large.
He tells the judge he shouldn’t pay
The alimony thrown her way.
 
Pro and con the lawyers fought
Intent and purpose laws had sought.
In the end proclaimed the wife,
Though coupled not in married life.
 
If the ruling’s test meets time,
The woman won a case sublime.
No matter who she’s coupled to
She’ll have her cake and eat it too.

 
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Culture Kiss

Every culture’s got some things
That set its ways apart|
From every other culture’s ways
In ways each one imparts. 
 
The French are known for loving ways,
They’re said to be the best;
All poetry and artistry,
For romance they are dressed.
 
The Chinese are industrious
In elemental ways;
Out producing Frenchmen prone
To cultivate malaise.
 
A case in point to illustrate,
Xia Xinfeng, Chinese,
Kiss her husband ardently
His ardor to appease.
 
But as she slipped her tongue to him
She passed along a pill;
A capsule he’d swallow then
With cyanide she’d filled.
 
Industrious she proved to be,
Romantic not so much;
The French would sleep with enemies,
Caress them with their touch.
 
Be happy every chance you get
Receiving a French Kiss;
But happy every chance you get
A Chinese one to miss.
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Judicious Gambling

Here’s a suit to beat all suits,
A suit that caught my eyes;
Malfeasant justice triumphs when
All logic it defies.
 
Down Atlantic City way
At Donald’s Taj Mahal,
A lady came to gamble some
But then she had a fall.
 
In the room where she had stayed
She sensed old nature’s call;
And went to utilize the john
Then it fell off the wall.
 
Apparently she wasn’t hurt
She rose up off the floor;
Then headed back to where she lived,
Where she had been before.
 
A couple years, they come and go,
She’s at a social guild;
When once again the lady falls,
This time with pain she’s filled.
 
Disabled from this incident,
Her legal muscles flex;
The guild is poor so she decides
The first fall caused the next.
 
Even though 2 years elapsed,
She’s in another state,
The cockeyed system of our courts
Took the hook and bait.
 
Successfully she sued the Taj
Her case framed in this way;
They pay a million-two to her
Now she’s gone home to play. 
 
When next you’re at the Taj Mahal
Forget the slots and pits;
Gamble on that porcelain chair
Where everybody sits.
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Campfire

Gathered ‘neath a starlit sky,
On a night the moon hung high,
Reflecting flames in every eye
Illuminating years gone by.
 
Generations circled ‘round
The burning embers in the ground;
One by one their stories told,
Old to young and young to old.
 
Uncertain as along they grope,
Youthful minds are full of hope.
The road ahead is paved with chance
And wishful dreams and circumstance.
 
Uncertain too, the elder mind,
The road too traveled by their kind;
Where once upon a time the dreams
Floated hope on golden streams.
 
Through the air the embers flew,
The new was old and old was new.
In the youth, the elder’s past;
In the old, the young are cast.
 
On the wings of progeny
The soul extends eternally.
Born on backs of those before,
The pathway lit through open door.
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Treacherous

Foggy, foggy is the day.
Condensing from the air,
Water droplets form and on
The helmet that I wear,
Obscure all visibility,
Distort, deceive and fool
The eyes that guide the bike I ride
And it’s colder than just cool.


Committed to the traffic flow,
No choice but carry on;
Cautiously disburse the drops
As formed they did upon.
Back and forth my glove to wipe
The moisture from the shield
In hopes I’d make it safely to
A port to which I’d yield.


Weaving then between the lines,
I wavered to and fro
Concerned my aptitude to drive
While blind would surely show.
But steadily the port drew near,
I turned into the drive
Whereupon my bike would fall
And I would take a dive.


Stuck between exhausting pipes
That scorch when they are touched
And graveled ground my leg had found
A way to soon be crutched.
I wiggled free, the pain enhanced
Beyond the everyday,
A passing biker rode his bike
To where I just had lay.


Stood my bike back on its wheels,
For that’s where it belongs;
I offered up my thanks although
Embarrassment prolonged.
So now I hobble ‘round about
And grimace as I walk
But thankful there was no one there
To mock me as they’d gawk.
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Silhouettes

night is coming earlier
the evening starts to chill
the sun sets lower in the sky
it won’t be long until
the leaves begin to shed the trees
and birds begin to still
 
giving way to shadows cast
the nights will day surpass
beyond the circumstance of time
the summertime will pass
upon the autumn road that cuts
between the browning grass
 
into darkness summer falls
on autumn winds are blown
the promise every summer brings
upon the sunlight shone
spilling shrouding shadows forth
of silhouettes alone
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Charming Girls

A couple boys,
They heard a noise,
  And went to find out why;
Found a smoking
Kitten writhing
  Girls laughing at its cry.
 
The boys as pals
Disbursed the gals
  Then went to help the cat;
Fur burned clean
From gasoline,
  A 9-1-1 and STAT.
 
By next day’s dawn,
The tail is gone
  And tips from both the ears;
Three quarters burned
By girls who yearned
  To shorten kitty’s years.
 
And for the crime,
It’s three year’s time
  They’ll do behind the wall
Where juvenile
Delinquents roam
  Sonoma County’s hall.
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A Wing and a Prayer

That’s a shame, to say the least -
An ending to the little beast;
A feathered friend out on the wing,
A bird whose voice no more to sing.


I watched approaching, as he flew
Toward the window, had no clue;
That he’d be stopped, abrupt and swift
To see his soul then set adrift.


How I waved and shouted, “Stop!”
Before he’d do his belly flop;
Before his limbs would all retract
From the glass that he’d impact.


Now in flight with angels flies
No earthly bounds, no earthly ties;
He’ll be missed by all he knew,
And other birds with which he flew.
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Open. Doors

beware of open doors
  all will stare
  all will dare
  altogether unaware
beware of open doors.
 
beware of open doors
  uncovered there
  discovered there
  ancient souls recovered there
beware of open doors
 
beware of open doors
  the mirrors dispel  
  where alice fell
  there demons dwell
beware of open doors
 
beware of open doors
  the present past
  the first is last
  the future’s cast
beware of open doors
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Meddling Men

When meddlin’ man in nature plays,
  By and large it’s beast that pays;
And on occasion, beast extracts
  A modest price for such attacks.
 
So it was in Anchorage town;
  Man had come, a moose to down.
Hovering low within the sky
  Shot a beast upon its thigh.
 
Tranquilized, a moose will fall
  On the ground then men can crawl
All about its fallen shape,
  Tag its ear and at it gape.
 
This moose, he had another thought;
  The thought he thought, was not get caught.
Felt the needle sting his thigh
  And bellowed he, a moose-like cry.
 
Falling not, another tack -
  Remained on foot and aimed his rack
At the hovering chopper’s tail,
  Charging it with full force gale.
 
Hit the chopper’s tail prop.
  Damaged then, the chopper’d drop;
The moose had hit just where he’d aimed
  Though in the end, the moose was maimed.
 
On the ground, the chopper’s crew
  Escaped the crash to moose pursue.
Bleeding from the spinning blade
  From consciousness, the moose would fade.
 
The tranquilizers in him deep
  And wounded now, he fell asleep.
The chopper boys thought it’d be best
  To send him to his final rest.
 
Once at peace and running loose,
  They euthanized the mighty moose.
I hope the day the Martians come
   To their dart, these men succumb.
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