The Laureate-Midnight Toast to 2016

‘Tis time, again, to raise the glass

and put to rest this year’s morass.

Let’s look upon New Year’s baby

somewhat optimistically.

So raise your glass toward the sky,

while muttering a terse “Goodbye.”

Let’s kiss our mates and sip champagne

to toast the babe... pray this one’s sane.

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The Laureate-Texting

I really do not like to text...

too long a span 'tween now and next.

The answers that come from one call

with texting will for hours sprawl.  

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The Laureate-This Special Season

We share the present of the past

as this Season comes to close,

because for most the memoirs last

of special times that ended woes.

At Hanukkuh some celebrate

the time their Temple was set free.

At Christmas some commemorate

the birth of Christianity.

Menorah or a Christmas tree,

Olive oil or Magi gold,

are there to share in amity...

vow never let our warmth grow cold.

{Note: Everyone should bow and nod

 as good men kneel to honor God.}

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The Laureate-It's Magic

Magicians say things disappear,

we later find them always near...

like candidates

who at debates

use ploys to that make their cures unclear.

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The Laureate-Federal Reserve

For seven long years this Land’s retired

asked for you to recognize

that in your actions you conspired

to answer only rich men’s cries.

If your wee raise brings little praise,

it's not from those that you made poor.

It’s only he who struts your maze...

for you’ll ensure the rich endure.

Visit http://allthatrhymes.squarespace.com for more poetry by James E. Cox. 

The Laureate-Tuesday's Debate

You listened to what they had to say.

Who stated facts or merely bray?

Note their eyes when they were beset...

recall if they displayed mayday.

{...and who disrupted the most that day.}

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The Laureate-480 BC ...Eternally

480 BC—Thermopylae

men fought to save their liberty.

Although no longer garbed in red,

for eons free men’s blood was shed.

On European and Asian shores,

now Middle East conquistadors,

are foes who would enslave the free...

and cursed throughout Man's history.

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The Laureate-The Search

If you would learn, pursue what’s new,

even that you most eschew.

The sage relies on what is gleaned...

when it survives the proper chew. 

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The Laureate-Thump Trump?

Before their war we were a foe.

We found our aid malapropos.

They now ask us to share our land...

but we know not what seeds they'll sow.

Our Middle Class now verge on poor,

‘tis fools alone would bring us more...

especially if their Furies soar.

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The Laureate-Commitments

Honor your commitments,

they can dilate the pith in you.

And when you face all new torments,

you’ll find your chi has gained sinew.

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The Laureate-December 7, 1941

Though young I still remember

how on that fateful day,

the look of shock in mother’s eyes

said that our world had just turned gray.

Then came the deprivation...

rationing for the army’s needs.

The radio and the cinema

swelled our hearts with their brave deeds.

Resolve and toil helped win that war,

near seventy years our land stands free,

but those who bore that world war

know we must watch foes constantly.

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The laureate-My poems

My poems but illume a page

of history oft  filled with rage.

I merely ask that those who read,

with logic, not with bias, gauge.

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The Laureate-Now San Berdoo!

Now San Berdoo!

{Amendment II}

One hundred and eighty thousand guns

were ordered on Black Friday.

Guns kill good people by the tons...

allow but one...and no AK... 

Visit http://allthatrhymes.squarespace.com for more poetry by James E. Cox.