The Poet-ISOD

ISON

Like Icarus old ISON came,

too near the sun

and gained same fame.

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The Poet-Thanksgiving Prayer

Thanksgiving Prayer

Oh God, who can in space deploy

the Suns and Earth and Man,

and for the food we’ll soon enjoy,

we’ll thank You best we can.

You've ask but love in payment...

dear God, that is an easy task.

We know our love is heaven sent

when we do that You ask.

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The Poet-Presidential Decree

Presidential Decree

Several times, I recollect,

I felt what Prez does incorrect.

I know I am but common man,

but this is what I understand.

Congress, Judges, President

must all agree on what is meant

to pass a law that’s fair to all,

and words then cast within cement.

When a Prez, by his decree,

interprets words within a law,

without a nod from all of three,

he has bypassed fair protocol.

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The Poet-J. P. Morgan Chase Bank

J. P. Morgan Chase Bank

They’re paying 13 billion

for lying...just a mite.

They don’t admit they’re wrong...

just some deals less than right.

When they agree to pay

such mammoth penalty,

a fool can surly guess

they filched more than times three.

Again, no Feds talk jail-time

for those illicit twerps...

although all know that bankers

are money-thieving perps. 

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The Poet-Power

Power

History shows in quests for power

egos loosed oft self-devour.

For never can they sate their thirst

and all their spoils, in time, turn sour.

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The Poet-When the Rich Enrich

When the Rich Enrich

Some are the lowest of the low,

the business man without a soul.

Though rich, they violate our Mores

and ship their toxins to our stores.

Some drugs and food and smokes and booze

were told to use are safe to use.

But minions of the FDA

may not have done good jobs this day.

And lobbyist oft bias laws

to bend them to a seedy cause.

Buyers beware the wise men say...

and very aware of crooks this day.

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The Poet-The Comet

The Comet

ISON comes to visit...

now seen by naked eye.

applaud it and enjoy the sight...

unless it fills the sky.

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The Poet-Our Sun Flips?

Our sun flips?

Boffins say ole Sol will flip...

that means the market’s gonna dip.

But it’s because the fools who play

can only guess what comes our way.

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The Poet-Go-chay

Go-chay

The Go-chay is descending...

that means the satellite will crash.

The boffins say don’t worry,

go ahead take out the trash.

The odds say it hits water...

seventy percent they guess, by math.

And, I say too you oughter

stay out of lakes, or pools, or bath.

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The Poet-20 Billion Planet Earths?

20 Billion Planet Earths?

Twenty billion planet earths

are out there in the universe?

I thought that counting stars was bad,

but counting planets is much worse.

Boffins, quit the foolishness,

until you’re sure withhold your guess.

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The Poet-Obamacare...again

Obamacare...again.

Dear Prez, you offer history

Obamacare for misery.

But, what you’d scribe into Time’s book

is middle class must pay the fee.

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The Poet-Obamacare (redux)

Obamacare (redux)

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.

My provider sent its plans

to meet Obamacare.

I’ve used this business sixteen years

and always found it fair.

But now its prices double...

that you may give my half away

The middle class has trouble...

when we can’t trust a word you say.

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