The Laureate-Social Intercourse

My wife, and friends, ignored the rules

of social intercourse.

They bared their stand on politics...

and that's taboo...or much, much worse.

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The Laureate-Leeches

Best know that Man breeds leeches, too.

They surf the Net in quest of you.

The Internet is where they prey...

and pray you e're their snares pooh-pooh.

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The Laureate-Time For Independence

Allied with neither Red nor Blue,

I'm independent through and through.

My mind is open when both talk,

and I suggest that yours be too...

and never accept Deja Vu.

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The Laureate-Blue's Views

When you speak to state your cause,

please do not shout for my applause.

That I'm not foe...you seem not know...

but force I fill my ears with gauze.

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The Laureate-Blues Edge

Blue's have the edge, the critic's score

of Red's demeanor on their floor

now show what people will accept

to win the “Voters Tug-of-war.”

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The Laureate-The Bound

Caroms of orbs can tilt and sway,

indeed, they oft put luck in play.

Keep poised while you are in life's game...

wavering creates melee.

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The Laureate-Conventions (Red and Blue)

Listen...listen...listen......listen...

grab not  the words that tend to glisten.

Think...think...think of country needs

and delve deep on who you will christen. 

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The Laureate-The Red's Convention

Is Red's convention an invention

of whom the speakers foist as Trump?

Best listen, ponder and reflect

of all he's done while on his stump...

and you’ll recall what they neglect.

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The Laureate-The Answer

Monsoons come and thunders roar,

with lightning's threat we can't ignore.

But do not cringe, because that sound

conveys the rain that most implore.

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The Laureate-To The Loo...or Toodle-oo!

The presumptive nominees

of the Red States and the Blue

spew more hate than divorcees,

and both should flush it down the loo...

for voters do not like the pooh.

Visit http://jim-cox.blogspot.com and http://allthatrhymes.squarespace.com for new poems by James E. Cox,

The Laureate-To The Loo

The presumptive nominees

of the Red States and the Blue

spew more hate than divorcees

and both should flush it down the loo...

for voters do not like the pooh.

Visit http://jim-cox.blogspot.com and http://allthatrhymes.squarespace.com for new poems by James E. Cox,

The Laureate-Harmony

Music, life, and poetry

should shun what breeds cacophony.

Yet seems that critics of the arts

choose rap, and crap to foist on me.

Visit http://jim-cox.blogspot.com and http://allthatrhymes.squarespace.com for new poems by James E. Cox, 

The Laureate-The Vote

The Reds dislike Blue's candidate.

The Blues think Red's is filled with hate.

The perplexed independent's

find they can vote when it's too late....

{and the Country can but wait it's fate.}

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The Laureate-Malfeasance

Pol's must think us very dense

when our taxes they dispense,

not as described at time of vote...

just lies with guised malfeasance.

 (They only spend on which they dote...

and damned near time that we emote!)

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The Laureate-Happy Birthday Pat.

Your Seventy-sixth birthday!

 'Tis fit that I Should celebrate

With my very lovely mate...

my muse..my love...my dearest friend

who can my chi and soul dilate.

So let me wine and dine and toast

The woman that is my love's host.

                                              Love, 

                                                           Jim

The Laureate-To Facebook, Google, et al

Each verse I pen is mine alone.

with time and toil I’ve set the tone.

Though on the net each verse flows free,

not one of them will I disown.

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The Laureate-Juno

Juno's jaunt to Jupiter

'twas near two billion miles long.

With boffins bent o’er data sent

pray that it’s clear...not Rap sing-song.

{When hour spent ‘tween ping.......and pong

imagine all that can go wrong.}

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The Laureate-July Fourth

Although it’s hot, I love July…

at least I love the 4^th.

The music, rockets amplify

the love our Flag draws forth.

The music swells fidelity.

The rockets with their glow

lume our symbol faithfully

safeguards all those below.

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The Laureate-Summer

It’s summer and it’s hot and wet,

hardly a desired duet.

Vacations lure to flee the heat,

but, many can be bittersweet.

Mountain or beach has problems too,

the sand can burn, your clothes mildew.

Or, at the cabin in the woods,

bears can steal your earthly goods.

So, stay at home...turn on the air.

doff your clothes til nearly bare.

Pour yourself a tall Mai Tai

and there’s not much can go awry.

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