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Month: April 2022


Every day the news flows fast,
  And every day I read
The stories as they cross the wire
  Insatiable’s my need.

Most days the stories are the same,
  Assorted deeds and crimes;
Politically or socially,
  The news flows all the time.

I stumbled on a story that
  Was buried ‘neath the fold;
Despite its placement in the news
  The most important told.

An AM station’s format changed,
  From news and talking fare,
In Oklahoma, KNB,
  The oldest on the air.

Why is this significant,
  They do this all the time;
Why’s this change so notable
  And worthy of a rhyme?

Oklahoma’s pretty centered
  In our country’s heart,
And here a wind is washing ‘cross
  And change it does impart.

The station that’s been on the air
  Since radio commenced,
Changed its format late last week
  To Spanish now and hence.

On every coast this change has been
  Quite evident for years;
In L.A. and Manhattan too,
  Spanish fills the ears.

Salsa, chips, tequila mixed
  With lime and salted rim;
Transforming is a culture
  Where ‘señor’ replaces ‘him.’

In every land, in every time
  Cultures cross and breed;
The change that is upon this land
  The wise will note and heed.

Some will protest, some deny
  This change in status quos;
The transformation, others claim,
  Will make our nation grow.

Evolving through revolving doors
  Historically we’ve come;
Apprehensive we to change
  But change is where we’re from. 
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Sad State

I’ve a story to relate,
Sad to say from my home state,
About a couple, old and frail;
The government and goin’ to jail.

The couple married young and grew
Old together through and through.
In her eighties, she took ill;
Her husband’s there to vows fulfill.

An intervention from the state
Decided on a different fate;
Went to court to seize control
So all her care the state would dole.

Took away her husband’s right
To minister her aging plight;
Into a home for nursing care,
The state dissolved the loving pair.

They’d wed in truth and took the vow
To love and care no, matter how;
Together traveled every year,
Together aged, his course was clear.

He had to get her out of there,
His wife would die in loving care.
This he’d vowed and this he’d do
And to his wife, the man was true.
On a visit, took a stroll.
In her chair the man would roll
To his car parked in the lot;
He’d come for her, and she he got.

He’d arranged a place to live
In Florida, her care he’d give.
Together they would see it through;
The promise made between the two.

Medically she needed aid
So he tapped her Medicaid;
Because of that, they tracked the wife
Now her husband’s facing life.

Since Michigan removed his right
To care for her then he took flight,
They’ve charged him and he’ll do some time;
He kidnapped her, a federal crime.

We’re all traveling toward an end
In nursing homes or with a friend;
Little time she has live
The final moments he should give.

The state can’t mind its own affairs
And shouldn’t those of coupled pairs.
They took his home and took his wife,
The state he loved now wants his life. 
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Cold Choices

Prepare the winter air is near
  Tomorrow it hits home;
Again we’re thrust beneath the clutch
  Of winter’s icy dome.

The wind will howl and bite our bones
  Our cheeks will burn with frost;
But living in New Jersey means
  We pay this yearly cost.

I used to live where it was warm
  Each day of every year;
Los Angeles was once my home
  Before I moved out here.

Today it’s eighty on the coast
  And that’s the price I’ve paid;
You’ve got to wonder how I came
  To make the choice I made. 
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On a palette
  Colors place;
Brush in form,
  A scene or face.

Oblique the image
  You can taint;
Or candidly
  The image paint.

Orange, as red
  And yellow team;
Blue and yellow,
  Green will seem.

Embers kindle
  Open fire;
Paint the truth,
  Possess desire.

Censor not
  The palette born;
Yield whole
  To hearts that mourn.

In consciousness
  The artist flows;
Within the stream
  The artist grows. 
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An interview
They did conduct
  On every TV screen;
A woman and
Her counsel man,
  Everywhere were seen.

One look at her
And one could tell,
  Her facts were not indeed;
But TV folks
Gave voice to her
  Not questioning the deed.

The woman claimed
A finger found
  In chili she consumed;
A background check,
They could have done,
  But deadlines always loomed.

Wendy’s chain
Was thus impugned
  Their reputation doomed;
So they began
A search to find
  Whose finger was exhumed.

With cursory look,
‘Twas soon revealed
  The lady made a trade
Of suing folks,
Who unlike her,
  Earned what they were paid.

But suffered losses
Won’t be paid
  By bums, the likes of she;
And loss would not 
Amount to much
  Without complicity.

A lawyer finds
In camera’s lens
  Fuel for vanity;
While makers of
Mass media
  Void veracity.

The lady’s jailed
But partners to
  Her crime are walkin’ free;
Rumors spread
Are libelous,
  Of so it seems to me.
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Four o’clock this morning
I went out for a stroll;
Remnants left by others
On every nook and knoll.

Discarded were a pair of socks
Left wadded in the street;
Somewhere someone’s barefoot
And has some dirty feet.

A little further down the road
Some sunglasses mislaid;
Someone’s out there squinting
Without their pair of shades.

Next I saw discarded
A bra to my surprise;
Someone draws attention  
Judging by its size.

Coins and candy wrappers,
At every point I pass;
Traces lying everywhere
Of magazines and glass.

Historical perspective,
Our existence thus defined;
Relics left abandoned 
Reflections of mankind. 
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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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Warm Me Chil’un

We’re like sitting ducks,
  This weather just sucks;
To live here, you have to be dumb.
We’re in a deep freeze,
  No let up or ease,
My body parts all have gone numb.

Still months away
  From the sun and its sway;
My long johns are worn to a shred.
My lips, chapped and cracked,
  Too sore to be smacked,
And my skin’s grown as cold as the dead.

I’ll suffer this day,
  In the usual way,
Struggling to conserve my own heat.
Earmuffs and bonnet,
  With frills there upon it,
And double knit socks on my feet.

One thing I’ll say,
  Will warm me this day,
Like the double espresso I need;  
While you shovel and salt
  Your walks without halt
I’ll be thinking of you, yes indeed.
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I’m back from my rest,
  Did you miss Friday’s poem?
I was kickin’ back thinkin’
  And drinkin’ at home.

The weather was great -
  I polished my bike;
And took to the highway
  On the Harley I like.

In various towns
  Were various groups;
Some protested war,
  Others rallied the troops.

Democracy’s gift
  And democracy’s cost -
Slogans on posters
  And soldier’s lives lost.

The young are repelled
  By the sights and the sounds
Of the violence beamed home
  By hungry news hounds.  

The old are inured
  They’ve seen it before –
The dogmatic leaders
  Of political wars.

I haven’t the stomach
  To watch the blood flow;
War won’t end war
  And by now they should know. 
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Here comes a great week, 
  I love a good war;
Can’t say too much
  ‘Bout the blood and the gore.

Living in fear
  Of some dastardly deed;
We’ll watch on the news
  As the wounds start to bleed.

Piling up bodies
  Tell family and friend,
How heroic they were
  Right up to the end.

Righteous we are,
  The political claim;
We are left to distinguish
  The political aim.

Soldiers are savaged,
  An expendable cost;
Political pawns
  In a game they have lost.

Destruction is certain
   As violence is true;
History repeats
  There is nothing new.
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