The Poet-November

November

Be thankful for November,

a month filled for reflection.

It barely starts, and we must pick

our choices for election.

Soon we pause to recognize

the vets who served to keep us free...

and those who died on foreign soils

deserve acclaim eternally.

He who guides us on our path

is honored on Thanksgiving Day.

Our Mores and more were sent by Him

and from His side we must not stray.

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The Poet-Halloween

Halloween

It is that time, All Hallows Eve…

when minds run free to make believe.

But pause, that mask you choose to wear

may hide, or bare, what you’d achieve.

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The Poet-The Boomerang Cold?

The Boomerang Cold?

The coldest in the universe...

the boffins bode is Boomerang...

a nebula quite far away

where temps will freeze both Yin and Yang  

But I would say ‘twas felt one day

when I had asked a girl to dance.

Her response was, “go away”...

there’s nothing colder than her glance.

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The Poet-Modus Vivendi (Way of Life)

Modus Vivendi (Way of Life) 

The Red and Blue seem satisfied

the closed door is ajar.

They hope we think we’re past the brink

and they have left no scar.

The only thing they’ve done for us,

their modus operandi,

is wait once more to near that door...

for their modus vivendi.

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The Poet-Congress Needs Less Lawyers

Congress Needs Less Lawyers.

Congress needs less lawyers...

it needs more CFOs.

A lawyer’s trait is prate debate...

and, as they do, our debt still grows.

Our Prez, who guides our Nation,

deems raising ceilings of the debt

is how you balance budgets...

or, as close as you need get.

Tell that to a CFO,

he’ll state, in time, there’s no more dough. 

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The Poet-The Color of States

The Color of States

Democrats were Blue.

Republicans were Red...

until Tea Party idiots      

climbed into their bed.

Now Democrats are gray,

because they have no say.

The Prez says what they think,

and makes them vote in sync.

The GOP may color lack...

it’s tainted by a Tea that’s black.

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The Poet- Remember The Game of Chicken, Pols.

The Game of Chicken.

Remember the game of “chicken”

...if both should win, then both would die.

The game you play of “chicken”

involves us all, but few asked try.

The fools who watched those contests

mistakenly thought players bold...

spectators of your contest

responded when your fans were polled.

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The Poet-Dear Pols

Dear Pols

You won’t approve a budget.

You shut the country down.

You furloughed some gov workers...

less those you need around.

The nation spoke in anger.

Those furloughed got back-pay.

They have a paid vacation,

and taxes waste away.

{Such logic, folks, is gray.} 

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The Poet-Atomic Particle (The Boson, etal)

Atomic Particles

(The boson, etal)

When I was a lad in school,

the atoms were quite simple.

But as I grew...seems they did too...

their insides more than triple.

With Leptons, Mesons, Quarks,

where do they find the room?

And, now they have a Boson...

a much too-crowded womb.

But, that newfangled stuff

is caused by cosmic rays.

Thank God when hit both parties flit,

then travel on their short-lived ways.
{But don't despair, their rare in there}

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The Poet-The Washington Redskins

The Washington Redskins...etal

Since nineteen and thirty-seven,

a team this mascot claimed.

And, many pondered through the years,

but few believed their lore defamed.

When teams search for a mascot,

the names must auger power...fame.

To think, to some this is a slur...

methinks their protest is inane.

But, our Prez agrees with them...

it‘s now his cause de jour.

If so, my friends, my poem ends...

our pols know not real problems cure.

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The Poet-State of the Union

The State of the Union

I’m frankly tired of watching pols

force us to a precipice.

It’s not TV reality.

It’s but today, and what’s amiss...

you can’t replay and gaffes dismiss.

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The Poet-Our Problem?

Our problem?

The House, now Red, has earned more votes

but, the Senate dominates.

The Prez says how the Senate coats...

and in dark Blue the Prez dictates.

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The Poet-Obamacare

Obamacare

O’er forty percent are on the dole,

which means they have but little dough...

which means someone must pay their way...

which means the middle class, you know.

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