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

You who are slaves to the small glowing screen
Have to scramble to do just the usual things
Like brushing your teeth and taking a shower.
The lure is stronger than Hash or *******
And it is the lover you sleep with.
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

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

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

Crying will not help.
  It only nourishes the weeds
    That block the entrance to your goals.

Crying never helps.
  It only muddies up the path
    That takes you you to a better place.

Crying is a waste of time.
  It just delays the work it takes
    To get around the obstacles in life.
              ljm

Like walking into a massive spider web
Feelings of doom wrap around my face.
I frantically try to brush it away,
But sticky tendrils yet remain
And I have trouble moving on.
ljm

If only I could just forget
The woman I once was
Maybe I’d be happy with
The woman I am now.

If maybe I could just forget
How much I could do then
Perhaps I could accept how
Much of it I can’t do now.
ljm

I think the proof is in the air
For those who love and those who care.
So many things that we don't share
Hallelujah
ljm

The fabric of society dangles by a feeble thread
That trembles with the the heavy weight of anger
And is stretched beyond what possibly
Can hold it all together

Weavers rush to reinforce the ever thinning yarn
But the sheep that usually supply the wool
Are scattered in the meadows of contention
And a worthy shepherd can’t be found.

How long can the tapestry, once honored and revered,
Remain in place upon the walls that form the room
Which shelters us from the visisitudes of living
In a world of hatred and divide.

It must not crumple to the floor, cut loose from
What sustained it through the centuries,
Leaving walls with gaping cracks that let inside
The freezing winds of vengence.

Will there be a place to hide and recreate a loom
In hopes of managing to learn to weave once more
And patch the rends in what was rescued from the floor
And seal the walls of hope again.
                                                         ljm

They said I gotta write some things down
But I don’t liketa write and what can I say.
I disappointed my Mama and I’m real sorry for that
I tried to stop once, I truly did.  But it was so much fun.
I enjoyed cowboyin’, and all the guys too
They called us The Wild Gang.
Them months in jail was not any fun.
I promised 'em that I’d be good, but
The banks was there, the trains was there
They called to me and I had to answer 'em
I don’t feel bad for them that died.
They all had it comin’
I finally got tired of bein’ chased,
And me and Sundance tried to lay low,
But there wasn't no place to hide any more.
Both Robbers Roost and Hole in the Wall was known to all.
And them dad-blamed Pinkertons was ev'rywhere.
So we lit out on a boat, and Etta tagged along.
San Vicente was pretty, but the bank was a’callin’
Nothin’ else we could do but hit it.
Hiding didn’t work out so well that time.
All in all I think going to Bolivia was a big mistake
That’s about all I got to say.
-Butch

It was such an exquisite marriage
The bride was lovely
The groom on his horse
And rain that fell as a sign of good luck.
The guests all arrived in their festive array
And it went as smoothly as carefully planned.
But the wedding cake - Oh my Heavens the cake !
A cake with no rival in the annals of time.
A cake that was baked by a host of proud bakers.
It had so many layers and so many flavors,
But way too much icing in billowing excess
With overgrown meadows of fondant flowers.
There was extravagant scrollwork around the edges
And even surprises baked coyly inside.
But it took way too long to light the tall candle
That finally decorated the top tier.
It was served up in dozens of little small wedges
To the multitudes of the invited guests
Who never saw the whole cake as presented
But only the dainty slice that they were served.
The party went on far into the night
And everyone had a fantastical time.
It must be agreed, twas a world class reception
Except for that cake - that too fabulous cake
ljm

Lost:
Her
   Wedding Ring
         in the ashes
  of a fire
  Home burned
            to the ground

       Firemen dig
        Where the bathroom
           used to be
Now 2 storeys deep
      in charred rubble
           for the drawer
          where the ring
was last secured
~~~~
  
        Somewhere in a different
   state
   Another wife was
   praying that
          all who lost
           their homes to fire
              might find some
       family treasure
                           in the ashes to hold onto
     ~~~~

        Something  sparkles dimly
    as the ashes are removed
    Is it the wedding ring?
      It is.
          Black and crusted, yes it is
    Still round and every stone in place
   Such joy and celebration in
the midst of tragedy                                ~~~~

Miracle:
            
    A prayer has been answered
        for a Christian
       in Nevada
             And a treasure been
    delivered
   to
         a loving wife
       in California
              who may have lost her family home
    but now has faith in miracles.
ljm

She walks out in the morning sunrise
And never notices the sky.
She sees the cracks across the blacktop
And the cigarette butts hiding there.

She see the runnel in the gutter
From overwatering the lawns
But never looks above her shoulder
to see the cloud-forms in the sky.

Her gaze is always pointed downward
As if there’s money on the ground
And she will be the one to find it,
Not caring that the sky is gold.

She maybe sees a flower blooming
In another neighbor’s yard
But doesn’t spot the humming bird
That darts among the blossoms.

A fog of gloom hangs over her
Obscuring every scene
She has no wish to brighten up
She is depression’s Queen.
                               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

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

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

How many cake pans must you wash
Before they’ll let you bake one.

How many arias must you write
Before they’ll let you sing one

How many air planes must you build
Before they’ll let you fly one.

How many children must you raise
Before one of them loves you.
     ljm

Committees never get things right
Egads they’re thick as planks.
They need my input every night
And seldom give me thanks.

They tell me I’m a gadfly
And I should go away,
But even if I have to shout
I’m going to have my say.

You cannot swat me like a fly
Or swish your horsey tail.
I’ll crash your meeting every night
Until I’m locked in jail.
      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 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

Fox News has been
So successful
At stitching together
The bits that suit them,
They’ve just been appointed
Official Tailor to the Emperor.
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

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

Hoping for a symphony
Expecting just a penny whistle.
Praying for a miracle
Getting a vague promise.
Looking for the Hollyhocks
Finding wilted daisies.

Offering a helping hand
Finding no one needs one.
Asking for a helping hand
No one reaches out to me.
Giving one last urgent try
I write my number on the wall.

And hunker down behind a hedge
To see if anybody reads it.
Or if they only walk on by
Pursuing other goals and visions
That have no bearing on my needs
And leave me here with hands outreaching.
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

I hear the clanking of the gears and ropes
As the curtain starts its slow descent.
I’m rushing to get all my speeches in-
I thought the final scene would go on longer.

But I somehow forgot my lines, the prompter was asleep,
And I tripped across the brace cleats on my entrance
The apron edge is way too close.  I feel lightheaded.
I can see my understudy waiting in the wings.

I thought that I could play my role with some elan
For the entire duration of the local run
But seven shows with matinees to total nine
Have strained my voice and dulled my ears

So I can’t hit the high notes any more.
I know the lyrics and the tunes-
I play them in my sleep instead of waking up
But nonetheless I miss my cues and every note is flat.

The audience is unaware.  They haven’t read the book.
They cannot know the words left out, the blocking gone awry,
My struggle as I patch it up and try to hide
Behind my past reviews - when everything I did was right.

Tassels shimmy on the bottom of the velvet drape
As it slips down behind  me - out in front when I should be in back.
If only I could juggle - no one would suspect
That this will be my final curtain call and I have got it wrong.

Cronyism rules the day
It guides the games
That you all play.
You think you’re having
Lots of fun,
But while you play
No work gets done.

The best jobs all
Go to your friends -
It forms a chain
That never ends.
But since you are
The weakest link,
The ship of state
Is bound to sink
ljm

Looking at a blank screen
With a blank stare
And an even blanker mind

Where are the words that
Used to tumble *****-nilly
From a churning creativity
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

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

I cry for things I might have done
And who I might have been.

I cry for opportunities missed
And enterprise that failed.

I cry for hands I might have held
That somehow I let slip away.

I cry beause the time is short
With so much treasure left unfound.

I cry because it’s the only thing
That’s somehow left for me to do.
                  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

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

Clutching at thin straws of sanity
Swirling in a sea of madness
I dog paddle with all my might
Towards a shore that seems too far
To offer any hope of safe arrival
         ljm

WEATHER HAIKU

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

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

“How Can I Find True Love” will always belong to the juke box in the upstairs dance hall above the general store at a little known hot springs resort called Sol Duc, in the Olympic Peninsula forests of the state of Washington.
I worked at the soda fountain there during the summer after I graduated High School in 1957. It was a very rustic place and there was no radio reception. All we had was the juke box. We teenage workers all lived in little cabins in the woods.  We cleaned the resort cabins, ran the little store, waitressed in the cafe, made Peanut Butter Milkshakes at the soda fountain and generally had a good time.  One day a man came to put the latest records in the juke box, including a new group, the Del Vikings.  We didn’t know which side of the record was the hit.  We chose “How Can I Find True Love” and played it endlessly.  Only after the summer ended and we all rejoined normal society did we learn that “Come Go With Me” was the big hit.
ljm

Twas the month before Christmas
And all through the town
The early bird shoppers
Could scarcely sit down.

The turkey was eaten
With ravenous passions
The quicker to race out
And grab the new fashions.

The bargains were lurking
Inside every mall
Inviting the greedy
To dash away all.

To forget about family
Forget to give thanks
To goal is to get stuff
Without breaking banks.

The early morn line up
Now a thing of the past
With stores never closing
You’ve got to be fast.

A big screen TV set
For three hundred bucks-
The  last one is taken
And that really *****.

If some other shopper
Should get in your way
The only solution?
That ole pepper spray!

You push and get pummeled-
You put it on plastic
You’ve landed a bargain
And that is fantastic

The Muzak is playing
The same Christmas songs
We know them all backwards
We’ve heard them so long.

You wend your way homeward
So proud of your action
To cancel Thanksgiving
And earn satisfaction.

The holly was strung up
Before Trick or treat
If you wait til Thanksgiving
You’re gonna get beat

By all of the merchants,
A few neighbors too.
Can’t beat ‘em? Then join ‘em-
What else can you do?

You wait for December,
The goods are shopworn
With scratches and paint chips,
And boxes all torn.

The only solution
Is one to remember:
Avoid all the trauma
And shop in September.

For a month before Christmas
The whole world goes mad
We use up the season
And that makes me sad.

I long for the mem’ry
Of Christmases past
When family mattered
And shopping came last,

Behind all the sharing
Of love and good times
Without all the hassle
Portrayed in these rhymes.

Exhaustion has claimed us
We need to lie down
It takes all your courage
Surviving downtown.

So you wear your kerchief
And I’ll wear my cap
And we’ll try to grab us
A short winter nap.

And we’ll say to ourselves
As we turn out the light
Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night.
    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

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

It’s said a Mother’s love won’t die
But love is like a tender flame
That must be tended, sometimes fed.
It only flickers in the wind
That blows disparagement and loss
And even though it gutters low
There stays an ember that won’t fade
And waits but for a tender touch
To burst into a blazing fire
To warm the home and family
ljm