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Month: November 2021

Politicians

From hallways and from corridors,
Cavernous and deep,
From underneath the rocks and sludge
The politicians creep.

Duplicitous in nature,
Their souls are sold and bought
To further their ambition
For offices they’ve sought.

Balanced in the shadows,
The politician’s pace
Between the fact and fiction
For neither they embrace.

In empty suits suspended,
Their spineless bodies twitch
With focus group opinion 
And PACs and dirty tricks.

In the current clueless
And with the winds they veer;
They’re retrospective genius,
For hindsight’s always clear.

Mirrors do not reflect them,
No shadows do they cast;
Contrived and artificial,
Principally surpassed.

We follow them like lemmings
And ride their rise and fall;
If they’re the best and brightest,
Heaven help us all. 
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Pan-O-Rama

A hundred and six,
A good long run,
  But still he’s goin’ strong;
A Chinese guy
Name Pan Xiting
  From just outside Hong Kong.

And true to men 
Most anywhere,
  He likes his women young.
So when he found
An Asian babe,
  From bachelorhood he sprung.
  
She’s quite a catch
For guys his age,
  He’ll struggle to keep up;
Colloquially
You’d have to say,
  His bitch is just a pup.

Wrested from
The other guys
  Who’d love her for their own,
He loves to show
His child bride
  Is his and his alone.

She sashays ‘round
Like she’s ‘all that,’
  She’s sexy, full of fun;
Keeps the fire
In our Pan,
  This girl of eighty-one. 
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A Jersey Cliche

For twenty years the Mayor,
His town for all intents;
Personifying everything
Newark represents.

Popular by any measure,
Voters loved the guy;
Though controversy swirled around
Wrongdoing he’d deny.

While he held all the power,
Controlling every file;
Evidence was hard to find
To put him up on trial. 

Financially mischievous,  
Taxes he would skim;
Out of office for a year,
The Feds have followed him,

Encouraged by successors
To the crown he wore,
Yesterday the government
Declared a legal war.

Mayor James indicted,
Unsealed his legal fate;
Wholesale distribution
Of assets of the state. 

Entrusted to look after
Those he’d represent;
A position of fidelity
He’d soon circumvent.

A long and legal roadway
Before him stretches out;
A year removed from power
The mayor’s lost his clout.

He’ll deny wrongdoing,
It’s all coincidence,
How on his mayor’s salary 
He gained such affluence.

Sad on many levels
But saddest in a way,
Is that the Mayor’s actions
In Jersey is cliché. 
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From the Mist

Into focus she appeared
  Upon the narrow beam
That separates the tangible
  From that within a dream.
  
Drawing furtive veils revealed
  The secrets she had stored;
Condensed the truth distilled from lies
  And from the wounds it poured.

From the mist, she disappeared
  Beyond and out of sight;
Assembled I, then in her wake,
  A vision of her flight.

Fashioned form from nebulous,
  Retooled the memory,
And realigned the episode
  Of Juliet and me. 
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Bombs Away

Our government is warning us
  To please take care today;
They heard a rumor in the air -
  There’re bombers on the way.

You’ll recognize them they will wear
  Bulky clothes and vests;
With wires dangling from their sleeves
  And clocks strapped to their chests.

A hopeless look upon their face,
  Disheveled, full of fear;
The gender probably male
  Though women may appear.

In crowded halls and shopping malls
  A bus, a train, a store;
Any place a crowd congeals -
 On city streets and more.

If you should spot suspicious folks
   Our government requests
You telephone authorities -
 Report these wanton pests.

But I’d suggest a better way
  To handle this event,
Is find a path to utilize
  Then run and don’t relent.

Then on the TV in your home,
  Watch what you have missed;
Be glad you followed my advice
  Else ‘bye’ your ass you’d kissed.
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Big Bird

Did you see the big plane
  That they launched in the air
Just yesterday morning
  To the rockets red glare?

This double-deck eagle
  Will seat and assuage
The bottoms of travelers
  Who get out o’ Dodge.

Eight hundred tourists
  Like sardines will pack
Each deck and each aisle
  And overhead racks.

You’ll ride between folks
  Whose girth exceeds norm,
While they sweat and they grunt
  And diminish your form.

Too many babies
  And children will cry,
While you bury your head
  And wish they would die.

Hours and hours
  To enter or leave,
As morons block aisles
  While you silently seethe.
 
A million pound plane
  Plus those in the seats,
Will float through the air
  With peanuts to eat.

Sounds like a ride
  You’d better avoid,
Unless you’re a sort
  Not easily annoyed.  
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Cranial Mush

Early this day
  It comes alive
At a gate in my head
  A poem has arrived.

I was typing and thinking
  ‘Bout storage and stuff –
When all of a sudden
  My brain said, “Enough!”

“What’s wrong, Mr. Ashbrook,
  That that’s all that you do;
Think about selling
  And bills that are due?”

“Is there nothing exciting
  To keep you alive;
‘cept thinking ‘bout work
  And other men’s wives?”

My honor attacked,
  By a brain most unkind;
A verbal defense
  I mounted in kind. 

“Hey! I’ve got a life,
  What ya talkin’ about?
I’ve got hats and my cats
  And a bit of the gout!
 
I bought a new shovel
  To chase away snow;
New strings for a guitar
  And some buttons to sew!

It might sound pathetic
  To a mass of gray flesh;
But I’m entertained nightly
  Wearin’ heels and mesh.

You wallow in jelly
  Inside of my head
You never go dancin’
  ‘Cause you’re thinkin’ instead!”
  
Clearly outgunned
  By the words I command,
I burnished the tarnish
  He’d spread on the land.

A clear demonstration
  I’m balanced this date;
I believe you’ll agree
  I’ve set my brain straight.
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Preparedness

The news that I read
  Really wasn’t that good;
Anarchy’s headin’
  To our neighborhood.

Seems they believe
  That a shift in the clime
Will destroy us in ‘bout
  Twenty year’s time.

Europe will freeze
  And we will go dry –
Wars will break out
  And many will die.

Less and less food
  Will come from the earth
And everyone left
  Will fight for their turf.

Nuclear bombs
  And diseases will spread –
Millions will vanish,
  The article said.

It’s gonna be rough
  So I bought me a gun –
To protect my canned tuna
  When the looting’s begun.
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Proper Signage

I’m sure you’re concerned
  About my new birds;
So I’ve got some good news
  Now here come the words.

The birds are alive,
  Though you know they were stalked
By the cats that inhabit
  The house while they squawked.

I’ve hung a marquee
  Like those on a stage
To identify them
  On the front of the cage

Beneath the containers
  Of water and seeds,
Alimento de gato
  Is what the sign reads.
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Art

Out for the night
  To watch people perform
With guitars and voices;
  Folk music the form.

Tormented souls,
  Their hearts on their sleeve;
They sang of their loves,
  Lost love to aggrieve.

Many were angry
  With violent refrains;
While bittersweet memories
  Kept others restrained.

Life’s up and down,
  We win and we lose;
It hurts and it heals
  And we all pay the dues.

Reflected in art,
  Whether painting or song,
The sum of the lost
  And for all that we long.
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