I don’t want to be here
I want to go back home.
I never will belong here.
My piece won’t fit this puzzle.

There is a little life here,
But it seems more like a death,
Stuck on a spinning carousel
With no brass ring to catch.

It feels just like a circus
Where everybody has a mask,
A 45 in their waistband,
And sawdust in their head.

I must step very carefully
In my egg-shell breaking boots;
I must never denigrate
This culture that’s absurd.

Guardrails all around my tongue
Hallelujah in my ears
To block what I don’t want to hear
Spouted out in endless rote

There is some sunburned beauty
To be found among these stones
But it comes at far too high a price
And I’m longing to go home.
         ljm

I was so aghast to learn
How many more words
Merriam Webster knows
Than I do.

I thought I had
A word for every need
But then my needs
Expanded and

Roget’s became my friend.
           ljm

OUR WORLD

We live in a world where starved dogs
   are left out in the blazing summer sun
      wearing brutal heavy collars attached
         to chains fit for a logging truck.

We live in a world where pickup trucks
   plow through flocks of geese to **** them
      and go nonchalantly on their way.

We live in a world where animals
   are are bred to fight for fun and wagers
      and losers are killed in grisly ways

We live in a world where industry
   can lie for years while savaging
      the ecosystem and pocketing the dollars.

We live in a world where it’s OK
   to torture and then butcher creatures
      in the name of research science.

We live in a world where six black robes
   can force a young woman to bear a child
      she doesn’t want and cannot feed
         then scorn her for needing welfare.

We live in a world where far too many
   want to rule as ****** did
      and see no moral hindrance.

We live in a world where supposed truth
   comes in countless clever guises
      and far too many of them are false.
            ljm

Steel blue clouds are rumpled across
The morning sky, looking ever so much
Like an ocean ******* at low tide.
That’s not a color in my paintbox,
And I struggle hard to make a match,
Never quite succeeding.
The jagged mountains are a breeeze -
Black against the morning sky.
The desert landscape spread below
Defies the choosing of a tube or tubes
To mix the multitide of shades of gray.
It doesn’t matter anyway, I hear the thunder,
And see the flash that tells me
Rain will wet my canvas faster than
I Can pack it up and run for home
          ljm

What would I do if I lost you?
Nothing much - things wouldn’t change-
I might wonder why the sun didn’t shine any more-
Or where all the crickets went,
But I would go on as usual
And not even notice the absence of gladness
Or all the dust gathering on my dreams.

What would I say if I lost you?
Nothing really - I’d make no comment-
Except on how raspy my song had grown-
And how dried up my pen had become.
Still I’d bump along same as always
And pay little mind to the paucity of laughter
Or the wetness corroding my cheeks.

How would I feel if I lost you?
No different - I’d be the same-
Oh I might pretend a bit more than usual
And invent a few things for myself,
But I’d get long quite serenely,
And never give note the casket
Standing ready to be my new home.
Ls

Is anyone teaching  A I  to pray?
Is it learning the Ten Commandments?
While we’re making them into mechanical Gods,
Have we introduced the two to each other?

                  ~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~

Will a robot prove God is a myth
And assume that throne for itself.
Will a Robot create a different world
And people it with only machines.
ljm

I abhor a bore
Don’t you?
I’d adore some more
Thank you.
                ljm

WEATHER HAIKU

The days are scorching
And it’s just as hot at night
When will it cool down
         ljm

The sagging bunting has faded
The flags are growing frayed
There’s lots of litter in the street
A breeze makes little whirlpools

The confetti has congealed
Itself into clumps of color
Balloons are tangled on
The fancy arms of streetlights.

Everything the eye can see
Proclaims the party’s over.
The crowds have melted into mist.
The music faded with the band.

There’s nothing to be said or done.
No words that can be said…
We have to face the dismal truth -
That Queen Elizabeth is dead.
                 ljm

Too many bubbles in my life
Too many ding-dings on my phone
Too many engines on my train
Too many cobwebs on my plans.

Too much spinning around like a top
Too much tripping on my own two feet
To much hurry hurry in my day time
Too much worry worry in my night.

How can I expand the hours
How can I cross something out
How can I outrun the tick-tock
How can I survive this way.

So many questions - with no replies
So many efforts - so little gain
So many teardrops shed in vain
So many times I’ve said good-bye.
ljm

He has offered to share all his life with me.
He isn’t afraid that I’ll tidy up his dreams
And put them away so he’ll never again find them.

He’s willing to look at me each morning of forever.
It doesn’t worry him that time has already sketched in
The places where lines will be shorty etched.

He’s asked me to give him all my tomorrows
And hasn’t a fear they may not be worth
All the golden hope he’ll invest in them.

He has assured me that I’m a necessity to him
And won’t ever be classified as habit instead,
When, with the years, he grows used to me.

He needs me in spite of my tottering strength.
He wants me with all of my imperfect beauty.
He loves me in answer to my lifelong prayers
Perfectly.
                        Ls

Once, not so very long ago
I lived as a somebody -
Important in a lot of people’s lives.
They depended on me and I was there.
I never failed a single one,
Delivering more than was expected.

Once I could be counted on
To always know the answer
Or to find the way around a problem.
They came to me because they knew
I wouldn’t let them down
Or walk away until the job was finished.

Not so very long ago
I was the acknowledged expert
And they came to me with
Questions, needs and problems
That I knew the answers for
Or where to go to find it.

Once I bowed to accolades
And admiration’s smiles
As it came clear I was the best
Of all the others in the realm
At making plans and dreams come true
With words and song and moving images.

Now banished to a foreign place
Where no one knows my name,
I’m just another random face -
A shopper at the mall.
The one behind the grocery cart
Who comes and goes unseen.

Here, no one knows what I can do
Or where I’ve been or what I know,
Or what I’ve built and left behind.
They deal with problems I could solve         more
If I was who I used to be again.

Now I wander in a place
That has no earthly need of me
And what I know and do -
That plays a foreign melody
And dances to a different beat
That I can’t find the rhythm to.

I try to find the raveled thread
The put a hole in who I was
And took away my cloak of purpose,
In hopes that I can catch it up
And mend the gap that renders me
Invisible and useless.

ljm

Oh Good God - I’m busted !
Caught in the very act of being caught
By those poets who catch people guilty
Of doing the same kind of wasteful
Thing as I am now being caught for
Brazenly and boldly doing. Sheesh!

But sometimes the ideas hide,
And they have to be pried out
one word at a time.

That’s my story,
And I’m stickin’ to it.
       ljm

I’ve always overtly admired
The poems I don’t understand;
The ones that others rave about
And praise with honors and awards.

The ones that seem to me to be
Random strings of fancy words
That don’t create cohesive thought
And leave me searching for a meaning.

I wondered if it all was real
Or some arcane bamboozle
And I was the yokel suckered in
By the Emperor’s new tuxedo.

Deciding I would test it out
I scribbled nonsense on a page
And posted it for all to see-
It was such fun I did it twice

To see if I’d be recognized
And called out for my shammery
And taken to the woodpile,
But  just the opposite occurred.

The plaudits soon came pouring in -
My ‘talent’ newly recognized.
My bamboozle fooled them all
I laughed, but then I had to cry.
ljm

Sometimes I like to take a word and see how many short
phrases I can come up with that use it.  I chose HAND
this time.  I won’t list words that have hand as part of it -
like  ‘handsome’, but I will use the plural and past tenses.
I tried to avoid nouns. How  many more can you think of?

     Hand of God      Hand me down
     Hand over fist              Hand delivered
     Hand made      *******
     Hand in glove              Hand in hand
     Hand to mouth      Hand it to you
     Hands off              Hand to hand
     Hand stand      Hands of time
     Hand in   *    Hand over    *   Hand off
     Hands down  *   Hands up    *    Hands off

     At hand      Unhand me
     Glad Hand      Even Handed
     Back handed      Under handed
     One handed      Cack handed*
     Lend a hand      Second hand
     Steady hand      Force your hand
     Hold hands      Lay hands on
     On every hand              On the other hand
     Out of hand      Show your hand
     Take in hand      Try your hand
     Throw up your hands         Wash your hands of
     With a heavy hand        High Handed
     On hand  *  Off hand  *  In hand  *  Out of hand
                                                            ­        LJM
Additionl words from BLT:     Hand over my heart
Hand to God       Sleight of Hand   Grabby Hands
Slick Hands,    

T S Poetry added  :  Gotta hand it to you    Overhand
One in the hand is worth two in the bush (birds)  

Melancholy of Innocence added:  Holding hands

Amanda Kay Burke added:   Shorthand    First hand   Handout

Three o’**** in the morning,
Lying wide awake since One,
The sleep Gods have abandoned me
Like all the rest I pray to.

Outside on the patio now
No *****-petal darkness here -
Brilliant moon in cloudless sky
And stars I haven’t seen in years.

My symphony of hurts and aches
Is on a break right now
And there are words endeavoring
To escape my Rolling Ball V5

I  need to find a way to sleep-
To capture energy for what I’ll need
To get me through tomorrow
And the endless ones to come.

Of all the deprivations in my life
Sleep is the most costly one.
My slumber cup is just half full
Or partly empty, if you choose.

It costs me presence in the day
And attention to detail.
It robs me of serenity
As I stumble to keep up.

Four O’clock and all is well
While I’m the one exception.
The molasses-footed clock moves on
And I’m left in the shadows.
ljm

11/20/24
ACTRESS

My life is a show
that I’m putting on
for
the audience of all those around me.
I strut and preen
and
I prance on life’s stage,
but
the script that I learned’s
not the show that I’m In
and
I’m always stage left
when I should be stage right.

I drop all my cues,
Can’t
remember my lines,
and
almost tripped over the footlights.

What
am I doing on this giant
stage.
Do the words I say
Have any meaning.
Do my
dance steps convey any feelings
to the
audience
made up of those who know better
and oblige me this turn in the
spotlight
ljm

In the dimness of my bedroom
Morning creeps across the floor
Hoping it can wake me early,
Planning to trap me one more time
In the dream world that I live in.

The room is cold, but I am warm
Under the goose down of my duvet,
Striving to paint over dreams
That left me naked and ashamed.

Dreams that ever play in reruns
Of my failures and shortcomings,
Constantly reminding me that I
Am not the person I profess to be.

That all the good deeds that I do
Can not erase the darkness in my soul
That I refuse to recognize
Or let escape the cell I’ve trapped it in.

Oftentimes the morning Sun
Will aid me in escaping
From those dreams into the life
I work so hard to purchase

With effort and the exercise
Of what I’ve learned the hard way,
In hopes that on a distant day
I’ll be who people think I am
And I can dream of butterflies.
ljm

See me
Find me in the crowd
And SEE me.

See who I am
See what I know
See what I do

See me

See what I stand for
See what I work towards
See what I’ve left behind me

See me

see why I care
See why I laugh
See why I cry

See me
          ljm

The Tiara is back on the dresser.
My party shoes are on the floor.
The clock is well past midnight
And I’m the Birthday Girl no more.

My day was rendered as perfect
Everything went just as planned.
There were no major mix-ups -
A blessing from God’s divine hands.

The floats were created from magic
They were stunning in their appeal
The roses in so many colors made
It hard to believe they were real.

The bands each outdid the others
Their Tubas lined up in big rows.
The flag girls and pompoms were twirling;
Drum Majors were putting on shows.

The weather was cold in the morning
But warm in the late afternoon.
My tiara caught other’s attention
And that sent me over the moon.

We ended the day at the movies
To watch whatever was playing
“The Aquaman” was a debacle
That’s only if I’m kindly saying.

This birthday is etched in my mem’ry
A diamond among yearly pearls.
A treasure bestowed by a loved one
Who crowned me the luckiest girl.
                        ljm

Pretty girls get listened to
Fat old ladies are ignored

A lovely face will unlock doors
A homely face will find them closed

A shapely figure’s always noticed
A shapeless one’s invisible.

This is the way society works
Not even pretending to be fair

How do I know about these rules
I have lived by them - Three out of six.
ljm

So many things need to be said
And shouted from high places.
This is not the time for words
To fail me in my anger.

What kind of mongrels have we become
That all precepts of decency
Have fallen by the wayside;
That codes of honor and propriety
Don’t scan in our computers.

It’s now alright to load a gun
Into a car and drive across state lines
To prance amongst an angry crowd
And wave it til someone gets ******
And reaches for it, thus providing
Legal grounds to shoot him -
And two more for good measure.

What kind of wimps have we become
That a kid who swings a skateboard
Becomes a lethal threat and hence
Is suddenly OK to be murdered.

Seven women and five men
Abandoned any common sense
Or rational intelligence
To vote that one who starts the fight
Is justified in feeling thereby threatened
And allowed a wanton ******.

What on earth have we become
And can’t you see where we are going?
Vigilante posses chasing pregnant girls
And legitimate protestors.
Three murderers may well walk free -
One more miscarriage of rightful justice.

Changing rules so blacks can’t vote
Disdaining to protect our dying planet
Playing at adult Lord of the Flies.

God has turned his back on us
So we created another One
From hate and greed and lust
We worshiped it full faithfully
And this is where it got us.

Afraid to mingle in a crowd
For fear that we’ll be shot.
Afraid to walk the streets alone
For fear that we’ll be *****
Afraid to help someone in need
For fear it is a scam.
We don’t answer phone or door
For fear of who might be there.

No wonder we are all depressed
And everyone is angry
There’s very little pleasure left
And life has lost its meaning.
Perhaps the world is suffering
From no pandemic but the wrath of God
And we all had it coming.
                        ljm

Brands

With their duck tail hair cuts all slicked back
And their Stradivarious long sleeved shirts;
With their half-soled, horse-shoe-cleated Brogues
With the arduously turned up toes,
The heart throb elite of high school’s boys
Walked the 1950’s hallways to their class.
Small town West Coast America on view.

With their reversible, pleated Pendleton skirts
And Jantzen turtleneck long-sleeved sweaters,
The girls eschewed the circle skirts
With crinolines beneath,
Held tight by elasticized waist-cinchers.
They walked in snow-white baby-doll shoes
With never any stockings.

Those who had the wherewithal
To own the latest fashions
And dress themselves in well known brands
Were somehow deemed superior
In all the gracious arts of living
And looked upon with envy-eyes
By those who dressed in J C Penney.

It wasn’t wrong - it wasn’t right
It fed some egos, damaged others
But it was just the way it was
And somehow we survived it.
Today you couldn’t pay enough
To make me wear a brand name
And I still love J C Penney.
ljm

The twice slapped hand
Won’t reach again
For what can never be obtained
But curls into a useless fist
To pound against the forehead.
         ljm

I heard your trees both screaming
          As your cack-handed garden workers
    Fired up their vicious, howling saws
                  To start a massacre that no tree could survive.

      I saw the shards of leaves and wood
  Flying off in all directions
               As the lifeblood of the trees
                               Oozed into the gravel just below

                 And before long it grew very silent -
   Only whispered echoes of the screams
           Floated high above the barren wasteland
That is now a yard with nothing in it green.
                    ljm

The power-giving tank is empty
  And the engine’s partly blown.
  There’s also not a lot of rubber
   Left on the two back tires.
    The steering wheel is badly cracked
     And the rear view mirror is missing.
      But somehow it still runs just fine.
       Every morning she fires it up
        And chugs around the neighborhood
         In what seems like a waste of time
          As nothing really gets accomplished.
           Valued as a vintage model and for
            The speed it once produced,
             The chrome is polished every day
              And the radio still plays.
               It belongs in a car museum
                But the owner never will give in.
                 She says she’ll keep the engine revving
                  For maybe another year or two.
                           ljm

I wonder what she’s doing today
In her life that I have no part of.
Does she ever wonder what I do all day
Or how often I may think of her.

Does she go about her day
An orphan by her careful choice,
Getting what she needs from friends
And free from my side’s family tree.

Does she meet the mothers of her friends
Comparing them to me
In the distorted image I hold in her mind
That paints me as some toxic monster.

She says I chose this husband over her -
I thought that I could have them both.
It seemed that way at the beginning
A little anger and then peace.

But then a shrink came on the scene
And everything unraveled.
Her every ill became big issues
And I was made the villain.

She said she’s getting married
I’ve never  met the  man
I know I’m not invited
And she has not told me when.

Her day of celebration
Will be my day of tears.
Another piece of heartbreak
To last me through the years.
ljm

Wars and storms and refugees
Spoken together ring like a bell
Wars and storms and refugees
Portray the people who now live in Hell
Wars and storms and refugees
Is this the ending of the world
Wars and storms and refugees
Flying the banners of death unfurled
Wars and storms and refugees
Is no solution to be found
Wars and storms and refugees
Or will we hear the trumpets sound
Wars and storms and refugees
War and storms **** refugees
And bring the world down to its knees.
ljm

My lipstick suddenly lost it’s gloss.
The sheen melted and dripped down my chin.
What was left was neither shiny or becoming
And I said - “no way - not having this - no way.”

So I stomped back to the make-up counter
And registered a vociferous complaint.
The cosmetic clerk attempted to regale me
With some convoluted hugga-mugga
About a glitch in the production line,
Attempting to gloss over the fiasco.

Now I really wasn’t having that,
So I put on a double thick
Lip coating of that diabolical
Oh-so-shiny red lip rouge
And kissed her clear glass counter top
A couple more than fifteen times.
So she will have to clean the gloss off
And maybe next time tell the truth.
ljm

Twenty years of endless anger
Now are etched across my face-
Forehead gauged with v-shaped furrows
That a smile cannot erase.

When not grinning, lips turn down
Sad or happy makes no difference,
My countenance looks like a frown
Though this is not my usual preference.

Eighteen months of peaceful calm
Cannot remove the anger’s trace
Massage and oils don’t do the trick
Nor did moving to a better place.

I am not a harridan,
I need to tell the world,
Even though my angry look
Seems like a battle flag unfurled.

I’m really nice - give me a chance
To show my gentle heart.
Let me put the frown away
And make a brand new start.

Let me speak in poetry
And not get trapped in rhyme.
Let me show a happy face
And try it one more time.
ljm

A nation ravaged by political *****
Unable to look around and see
The mess they made that we must live in.
Seeing only the cookies on the counter,
Not minding the crumbs all over the floor
And the rats that are enjoying them.

Hearing only the Devil’s whisper
Oozing from the screens they watch
Telling them that Christmas tree lights
Are worth the death of all the reindeer.

Remembering a yesterday that never was
And trading in tomorrow for a fantasy
Of “there’s still time to fix the problems”
And “It’ll be all right on the day”.

But that day is going to be next Tuesday.
ljm

The day that I met you I thought that
God had pressed the golden button.
I danced in all the shiny bits of tin foil
That rained down as an answer to my prayer
And spread happiness across my lonely floor .

I never would have thought I had the talent
To impress the cosmos or the likes of Cupid
To feel it was my turn to win the contest
And love from such a treasure that is you.
ljm

Our President jets off for a luxury holiday in Florida
While America stands in the food lines.
Those you’ve pardoned will eat well tonight
But the rest will eat donated sausage.

You need to cover all the mirrors
In the halls of Mara Lago
The evil they’ll reflect of you
Will burn away the silver.

Enjoy your golf and ***** and friends
Lots of goodies wrapped for Baron
More diamonds for Melania
Who likely figures one more year

Til she can be rich and truly free.
We don’t have to wait a year -
Only thirty-one more days.
We’ll still be poor, but we’ll be free.
                   ljm

Because I’m sore afflicted
And burdened with many ills
I seek to find a hem to touch
From a Spirit passing by.

Mustard seeds don’t work for me.
My faith is like a summer breeze
That gently sways the blossoms
But is often deathly still.

I need vast hurricanes of trust
If I have hopes of healing
But I reach out to emptiness
And my candle doesn’t waver.
ljm

Anna Leonowens called
The King of all Siam
“A flock of sheep
And you the only Ram”

I hear the bleating of
The flocks down at the beach
Who wander free among the germs
Outside of prudence reach.

A belwether is needed now
To step into the lead
And guide the foolish ewes and lambs
To the safety that they need.
ljm

Fog hovers just above the barren ground
Waiting for the wind
To pick it up and paint the morning gray.
Only yesterday the rain decided not to fall
But only to deface the cars with ***** splatters.

The Sun, with motives of its own devising
Cannot decide to shine or maybe hide
And chooses to just peek
Between the shutters of the trees
To count the trains as they roll by
Along the tracks down past the corner.

The summer lawn is parched and dry.
They’ve limited our water use.
But all the buried hoses still come on
Beneath the darkness before dawn
And all the local bunnies know it.

Everything is changing
But it always looks the same.
The fog seeps through the kitchen door
And makes it hard to see tomorrow
Leaving us all sitting here
Jointly hoping it will rain.
                   ljm

I live in a wretched place
Where only hookers wear perfume
And nobody even seems to own
A proper pair of shoes.

Neither of two department stores
Bother to sell dresses,
And women get lots of their attire
From the nearby Goodwill store
Which sometimes sells remainders
Along with what’s been used.

Jeans are formal wedding clothes
And the minister is armed.
So is the bridegroom’s mother
And several of the ushers.
When the Bride lifts up her
Online-purchased wedding dress
The guests all hope they see
A lacy garter on her thigh,
And not a little derringer.

Guests drive to the wedding
in honkin’ ******* trucks
With mud up to the wheel caps.

Decorations on those trucks
Are often in the form of flags
Mounted by the tailgate hinge
On forty-eight inch metal poles.
Some of them have stars and stripes
Some recognize the Bride and Groom
But most of them are Rebel Yells
Or praises for a disgraced shyster.

Why on earth do I live here?
It all comes down to weather
Not the heat or scorching wind-
that’s just the price we have to pay.
It’s all the stars that hold me here.
I walk at dawn to see them shine
And bathe in Sunrise glory.

I spend the day beneath white clouds
That so resemble whipping cream
That’s been flung against the sky.
As evening comes I do a dance
Beneath the sunset’s flaming glow
When all those puffy clouds catch fire
And tumble down behind the moon
Then rising from the jagged mountains.

This may not be a perfect place
I’m sure those don’t exist
But this is where I’ll end my race:
The desert land I can’t resist.
          ljm

Born at home and almost left behind
When the ambulance came,
I’ve spent my whole life
Trying to be remembered
And not overlooked.
ljm

Conversation at a bar:
Joe- “I had to make a Citizen’s Arrest last week”
Bob- “Really?  What caliber did you use?”
     ljm

• I drew a healthy breath
   On awakening today.
• I came down the stairs
   And my knees didn’t hurt.
• The wind has died and
   The sky looks good so
   It’ll be a gorgeous day.
• My friends are well
   And celebrating too,
   Wherever they are scattered,
• My family is safe and sound
   In their distant places.
• I’ve been welcomed to offer help
   In feeding the poor and lonely
   In the kitchen of a church
   The sister of my own.
• So I feel blessed and offer thanks
   That there is still some goodness
   Left amongst the troubles of this world.
ljm

The crows are screeching in the trees
The wind is howling in the eves
The door that kept tomorrow safe
Is swinging wildly in the gale.
The glow that might have been the sun
Is really from a raging fire
That’s fanned by mistrals out of place
Who bring with them an icy chill
That kills the tiny forlorn hope
Now hiding in a dusty closet
ljm

Mindless of the wishes of the nation,
Ignoring what is right and good and proper,
Telling us that only you know what is best for us:
Christianity run amok for self aggrandizement.
Hell can’t possibly be hot enough for you, McConnell
              LJM

Lost - reality in multicolor shatters
Scattered by the breezes from the sunrise
Gaping holes with ragged edges
Filled with swirling mists of sadness

Perusing maps of certainty
The tick-tock of the day grows louder
But the tide washed out the roadway
And the darkness didn’t leave at dawn

There is no clay for making bricks
So nothing will get built today
And the penny found along the walk
Will only buy a feckless dream

A can of worms not good for fishing
Sits atop a dusty shelf above
A dog that wants more petting
Than you or I have hands to give

The echo of this joylessness is deafening
And there’s no reason to go on.
      ljm