Category: Poetry

Conflicting Viewpoints

Plump Trump dumped wimpy words on

Weak minds, desperate for some kind of

Good news, in the face of greedy CEOs,

Making 3000% of the average employee.

No justice in this world, not yet, anyway.

Obama tried to level the field, helping all

That stabbed him in the back, after all

Keeping in step with the media moguls

And bobble heads, throwing out false

Accusations and exaggerations, like it

Was going out of style. No rest for those

Who try to make this world a better place.

A Fun Night

Tricks and tangles,

Stories and jingles.

It’s November.

It’s election time.

…

Can’t wait

For it to be over.

Wish I drank.

Don’t want to be sober.

…

Such a tragedy,

What has become

Of the media monster.

So much for a peaceful outcome.

…

I will dip my head

Into a hole,

And hold it there

‘Til all this blows over.

…

Either way,

It will be a flop,

But ratings will soar,

And anxiety will soar higher.

…

Does it matter

What the candidates are doing,

Or what the experts say

About their predictions?

…

Apparently so,

As most will be glued

To the television,

Despite the garbage.

…

Let the fun begin.

Manure

Manure.

That is my thought on election night.

So much stuff that has been tossed

Around by the powers that be,

As well as by we the people.

Why does it have to be like this?

Who wants to feel like our country is

Being torn apart by two people, or

The people behind those people, or

The people behind them?

I hate it for our country, because

We are so much better than a bunch of

Trash talk aimed at pushing our favorite

Candidate to the top, while instead

We are tearing everybody down,

Including ourselves.

Damn, I can’t wait for closing time.

That will be a sweet hour.

Many of us won’t sleep well tonight,

Maybe for many nights.

We’ll be worried about the fate

Of the country we love,

The lives we’ve worked hard

To build for ourselves,

The future for our children.

Tonight, though, I’ll stick with

Manure.

Sleeping While a Wall

Putting up my hands, I don’t want that.

Don’t involve me in that mess,

I’m leaving now, I said.

Safe alone in my home, my room, my

Bed. I’m sleeping while a wall.

I have no idea, no opinion about

Your troubles. I cannot help you.

Sleeping while a wall.

I’m just a simple man,

Small mind, even smaller heart.

I don’t care about those things

Going on around me.

I’m sleeping while a wall.

Friends Instead

Being alone is like being on the phone,

Talking to nobody. Being unique is

Not a pleasant experience, no, not

Indeed. I don’t care to chat with myself

About my shortcomings, nor endure the

Thought, that I am so different from the

Rest. I have visions and delusions, but

Not hallucinations–Every man has his

Limits. So Baker Act me, or take me to

Prison, if thinking perversely is a crime.

I cast my lot with the heathens and the

Saints, just the same. It makes no

Difference, in my book of ways. That’s

Just how I am. I don’t favor him or her,

This or that. I stay the course, even if it

Takes me ten times as long, with zigs,

Zags and drops in between. My

Conscience crucifies me sometimes, I’ll

Admit. Let’s be friends instead.