The Laureate-Man's Vanity

Strange that Man remains so vain

to brandish force to claim earth's reign

when Nature, can in careless pique,

expunge all that Man can attain.

{From the book, Rubai  by James E. Cox}

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The Laureate-To Please

He who would please everyone

will tear his hair ere tasks are done.

Same song which some will snub and scorn

to others stirs ovation.

{From the book, Rubai by James E. Cox}

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The Laureate-The Fickle Mind

But fools would think that they can find

the buried secrets of the mind,

when every breath, or thought, or act

can add, subtract, loosen, or bind.

{From the book, Rubai by James E. Cox}

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The Laureate-The Cartel

The Cartel

{More banks spread angst}

They’re paying a five billion fine

for current market milking.

They all admit they’re wrong...

and will pay for the bilking.

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.

(And If they don’t serve time,

they’ll just repeat their crime.)

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The Laureate-Our Troubles

Our troubles larger {more to abhor}

than any our predecessors suffered before?

Did they but combat such minor woes,

as poverty, pestilence, hunger and war?

{Lest the words die, I quote from Rubai, by James E. Cox}

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The Laureate-Let's Judge The Judges

I tend to blame the judges

for where we are today.

The family and the arts

are changed by how the critics weigh.

They took the rod from parents

and gave it to the child...

redacted God from view and school,

and wonder why our teens run wild.

The judges show malfeasance

by pols, and their close minions,

don’t break the laws, just minor flaws...

if you read their opinions.

All are equal, the tribunes say,

but trials oft belie...

for famous, rich and powerful

seems most rules don’t apply

Our music, once melodic,

now attacks both ear and mind.

And Art, once blending shade and hue

now challenges to trace a line.

The words that moved the poets

no longer pass from soul with rhyme.

Now poets need not punctuate...

the readers must, provide the time.

The critics test the borders

to see where minds may wend.

They need to stop, reflect and judge

on what they’ve done to once sane men.

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The Laureate-Cheating

Cheating

(>800 AZ students cheated on tests, et al)

When rivals cheat on any test,

they con themselves...and all the rest.

They doubt innate ability

to use frank wit to reach their quest.

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The Laureate-Deflate Gate Penalty

The penalty’s too harsh?

You must sit out four games!

Fie on all the fans...

that cast on you foul names!

You merely chose to cheat

to win the football game.

Why should the sports-world jeer

and castigate your fame?

(Let Fame be fleeting if caught cheating!)

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Motherhood

Motherhood is recognized each May

for throughout time no other has such sway.

Who else, but her, devoted all her life

to shelter you from all that could cause strife.

And who applauds each milestone you pass…

and kiss the many scars you might amass.

The second Sunday that will fall each May

gives you the chance to Mother’s Love repay.

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The Laureate-The Courts

Vague laws are tough to litigate,

but lawyers are skilled at debate.

A trial oft is fraught with semantics...

with nuance to spur or sedate.

(Your fate awaits debate...settle out of court.)

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The Laureate-Market Madness

Buy and hold the pundits say,

to sell your stocks is oft misplay.

Yet billionaires will maul the Dow

to force the Feds to vote their way.

{and middle class can not but scowl.}

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The Laureate-May

May

I always love the month of May

for Spring is at its heyday.

The birds and bees and hes and shes

don’t have to hug to beat the freeze.

All sense that love has filled the air,

and all can find it...if they dare.

You need not dance around the “pole”,

nor bare your bod...just loose your soul.

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