An honest and fair election loss will surely cause the red-hatted people of the USA to foment violence on the non-red-hatted people and the institutions they serve and believe in.

A dishonest and unfair election win will foment the end of constitutional democracy as the non-red-hatted people know it.  The pitchfork and banner market will experience sudden growth.
   ljm

What is all this tensile for
Nobodys coming here
Why is eggnog in the fridge
Who is there to cheer.

Why the mistletoe hung high
There is no one to kiss
Why the Christmas Carols play
When no one feels the bliss

Why no gifts beneath the tree
Why go to all this work
Because this party is for me
And you sound like a ****.
          ljm

I’ll never be a track star
Because I cannot run
That doesn’t really matter
Because I have a gun.

I’ll never win a medal
For something I’ve achieved
But I’ll be long remembered
By everyone I’ve grieved.

I’m always sad and angry
My life has not been fun.
But I know how to fix it
With my brand-new shiny gun.

A bully said my *****
Appears to be too small
It’s bigger than the trigger
That will blow away them all

I’m longing to be famous
But my triumphs total none
I’ll aim for bigger numbers
When I unleash my gun

An AK forty-seven
Is the answer to my needs
And I’ll become a headline
Because of my next deeds.

I’m heading for the school now
Where I’m gonna awe and stun
Gonna mow down all the children
With my brand new shiny gun.
ljm

Today I saw a giant tub of whipped cream
Spilled across the morning sky.
You may call them clouds, I call them cream.

Today I saw a tiny hummingbird
Taking very careful inventory
Of the blossoms on a tree.

Today I saw two squadrons
Of black birds on a secret mission
Across the dawning sky.

Today I saw the waxing moon
Refusing to call it a night
By lurking on the horizon.

Today I saw me looking up
To marvel at the gifts I’m given
For merely raising up my eyes.
            ljm

Calendars say it now is summer
So we gird for a three month war.
The object won’t be victory
We’ve battled this before.

To conquer is impossible
There’s unrelenting heat
That’s burning hot at 3 A.M.
And noon is a repeat.

There never is a cooling breath.
The breeze does not refresh.
It parches what it does not fry
And laughs at shading mesh.

Each day’s a battle to achieve
What little must be done
And hope you needn’t go outside
Beneath that scorching sun.

Mark exes on the calendar -
October is so far away
But that becomes the shining goal
We struggle for each day

We ask ourselves if we are nuts
To wage this war each year
But once the Desert owns your heart
You have to linger near.
      ljm

TractabilIty has led me to disbelieve most everything
I’ve ever learned and caused me then to set foot on
A road that will surely lead me nowhere.
I listened to the honeyed words and ate the candied lies.
I turned my back on what was genuine and real
And chased a paper moon across a tinfoil sky.
They told me they were helping me to find  out
Who I am and what I really should believe.
They said that they could fix the world
If I can only help them.
I heard a small bell ringing In a corner of my mind
But they assured me it was nothing real and
Only an illusion.  And I gave in and followed them.
They told me who to vote for and all the reasons why.
The tiny bell became a klaxon, but I tuned it out
And walked their walk and talked their talk
And marked my card the way they said
And dropped it in the ballot box.
Along with my IQ and common sense
And my opinion is intractable today.
ljm

I'm much better at being sad.
I've had a lot more practice.
                       ljm

If you’re gonna pass laws that force women to
Birth and raise the babies they get knocked up with
        Make those laws also include a neonatal paternity test,
        After which the father has his income attached
        To the tune of seventy-five dollars a week for 21 years,
        Adjusted for inflation.
Then Enforce that law every bit as rigidly
As you enforce your new abortion bans.
         It takes two to make a baby, after all….. and
         Fair is still fair, isn’t it?    In what Universe?
                           ljm

Like a Gingerbread village
Smashed by an angry child
The
     broken
                  pieces    
                            lay
Scattered across the desert.
             ~/#^//~•º#~

Every shard a broken dream
And hopeless vision of the future.
Every
            pile
                    of
                          crumpled!rubble
Hides beneath it bleak tomorrows.
                  ~/#^//~•ª#~

What can ever be constructed
From the
                frac
                        tur
        ­                        ed
                                      shards of
Hopelessness and heartless evil.
That bar the road to being whole again.
                           ljm

It is my most sincere and humble wish

That my absence for 3 weeks will not

generate a large Hue and Cry among

Those who cannot exist without my

Daily words of Wisdom and Sagacity

On this site that has become refuge

To so many of us wayward souls.
                                               LJM

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

They advertise Jergens Lotion
As a product that
Softens and smooths
But they can’t know
I have an emollient
Much better by far.
Your gentle voice
Softens my roughest edges
And your tender hands
Smooth out the wrinkles
In my soul.
     ljm

I dug a hole in the seaside sand
But it didn’t fill with water
And the sides did not cave in.

The rain came down
But the sand stayed dry
And the ocean got the drenching.

The seagulls danced
Their tide-line jig
Avoiding my sand cavern

I lined the hole with dry seaweed
And covered it with clam shells.
I crawled inside and hunkered down
At last safe from tomorrow.
ljm

Why is a glitter different than a glisten:
Evil eyes glitter with malice
Gentle eyes glisten with love.
Diamonds glitter, real or not
Opals glisten with a silken sheen,
The sun shining on the ocean glitters
The moon on a quiet lake glistens
Elizabeth Taylor Glittered
While Julie Andrews glistens.
There is no bridging word to use
One puts you in a meadow
And the other on a rocky shore
Which verb do I want to be
I never really could decide.
                ljm

If I live long enough, my goal
Is to be the Doyen of Hello Poetry.
Not because I'm the best, though
I strive to earn that sobriquet too.
Not because I'm wise - Oh no-
Wise-guy is more like it;
But because I never ran away
Without a word
As so many others  have done.
                                       ljm

What’s the point and where’s the purpose -
Writing things won’t make them happen.
The stories on the TV set
Are someone else’s version
Of a life we’ll never live or know.

Why keep pressing on when there’s no map
And all the street signs are in Latin.
Satisfaction can’t be gained
When they won’t let you finish
Any project your own way.

Who saw where the pathway turned
And didn’t take the time to tell us.
The hand that mans the tiller is not mine.
I spend my time below the decks now
Ever longing just to see the stars.
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

I think I’ve come to believe in God
And that He did indeed create the Earth.
But I think He created lots of Earths
And flung them across the galaxies.

I think perhaps He had some off time
And idly rolled up ***** of clay
Each one different from all the rest
Each with its own pattern of life.

I think He had a wonderful time
Draining His imagination
Of all the possibilities
For sentience of various kinds.

Like a crafter making quilts-
Each pattern varied from from the rest,
The planets took on different forms
And life evolved down many lines.

That’s why the cosmos puzzles us
And makes creation hard to grasp.
We need to spend a lot more time
At art and crafter’s shows.

ljm

Hello to **** America
Goodbye to the gentle folk of Ukraine
Goodbye to all hope for a Palestine
Hello to hatefulness and thuggery
Hello to self service and ego
Goodbye to seven Commandments
Goodbye to honor and trust
Hello to the end of the American Dream.
ljm

Pity the Easter Bunny
Vice President of Whimsey Land
Hero of Farmer’s gardens
Mentored by Santa Clause

Guardian of the fairies
That trade coins for teeth
And Proctor for the hoards of elves
That keep the world exciting.

Still owning all his lucky feet
Through cleverness and speed.
Nephew to Uncle Whitey
The Star of Underland

Pity the Easter Bunny
His ears are drooping down
His cotton tail has lost its fluff
And he’s too sad to hop.

Pass the pity towel around
To mop up all the tears.
His labor will go unrewarded
On a scale that’s not been seen before.

All those eggs to boil and dye
Chocolate selves to pose for
All those candy eggs to hide
Baskets to be woven.

All those chores have been checked off
All the preparations made
Everything is set to go
When a germ calls off the holIday

What do you do with Jelly Beans
Stacked up to the ceiling
How much sugar can a bunny eat
Before he’s diabetic.

Pity the Easter bunny
But stand six feet away
We all feel cheated for
The loss of Easter day.
ljm

My mid has drifted, I'm sad to say
You cannot say I'm lying
It's bigger still than yesterday
And that is why I'm crying.
                                ljm

The tipping point for Gaia
  Stares us boldly in our faces.
   And yet we try to look the other way,
    Seeing only what they want us to see,
     Believing all the lies they tell us daily.
      How deep into destruction must we fall
       Before we realize we’re doomed and
        It’s too late to pass the blame
         And far too late to fix things
              ljm

With desperation dripping off my chin
I scurry around this way and that
Trying to catch up the herd that
Knowingly is leaving me behind

I trip on stones I couldn’t see
Through all the rainstorm on my face
And stumble even further back behind

With need that pushes hunger off the list
I strive for things not physical
But nebulous and indistinct
That shimmer in the distance
And are always out of reach
         ljm

Like a newborn sparrow in a tall tree nest
You hunker down with your beak wide open
Chirping for a worm.
But you’ve broken my wings so many times
I can no longer fly
And I flop helplessly amongst the branches
Watching as we starve.
ljm

Ruth, you didn’t do us right
You knew that you had cancer
You couldn’t know how long you had
You must have thought Trump wouldn’t win.

And so you took the gamble.
You should have exited the court
Before Obama’s term wound down,
If you were thinking of the nation.

Your ego kept you on the bench
Until it was too late to go.
We all held our worried breath
As we watched your health decline.

Once you saw the damage
That was daily being done
To your beloved country
You could do nothing but hold on.

We know you tried to last him out
To keep some balance on the Court
But even you, with your fierce strength,
Were not a match for what was in the cards.

Ruth, you didn’t do us right.
In the final reckoning
You should have known to step aside
And save us from destruction.
ljm

S ometimes situations sneak around behind me
C ausing more frustration than my cup can hold,
R endering my calm demeanor less and less with
E very breath I take, which finally
A llows the rage to grab control and
M eans the only useful thing to do is scream
ljm

My prayer list held a disaster
That was burdened with three more
There has never been a time
I felt compelled to pray for
Catastrophic multiples:
The burned out victims of Hawaii,
The earthquake rubble in Morocco,
Survivors of Libya’s flood deluge
Plus Hurricanes and Tornados
Here in the land that we call home.
And all within the last two months.
So many in such a very short time.
Each one a calamity of people
Where lives and dreams were all destroyed
With loved ones left behind to weep.

Are we seeing here a prelude of
Four Horsemen and Apocalypse?
Have they begun their awful ride?
They carry different banners now:
Not War, but the deadly fires of Hell
Not Famine, but death-dealing floods
Not Pestilence but shaking down tall buildings
Not Death, but gales of immense destruction

Some say there is another Horse,
A Fifth, called Nuclear Annihilation
His banner flaunts the end of time
That snuffs the world before the Trumpet blows.
It’s kicking at the stable door
And we can hear the timbers cracking.

But grazing calmly in the pasture
Is the dappled horse called Six
His banner is the slow starvation
Of everything that supports life.
He need not ride, he only waits
For greed, indifference and sloth
To find the way to **** the earth
And everyone who lives upon it.

Is there any place to hide
Is there anything to do
Any way to make it better.
Can which sacrifice atone
For what we’ve done to our own planet -
What we’ve done to our own lives.
One book seems to have the answer
It’s on the Best Seller list.
Almost every household owns one.
Almost no one ever reads it.
Maybe finally…it’s time.
ljm

TP’s back on the market shelves
Easy to find Purell
Lots of bleach for you to drink
And lots of gloves to sell
Clap Hands

Numbers go up instead of down
Nobody’s staying home
They all go out without a mask
When they decide to roam
Clap hands

Everyone’s invincible
“It couldn’t strike me down”
I’m an invisible carrier
Busy all over town
Clap hands, clap hands

I feel a tickle in my throat
And a little raspy cough
It’s getting sort of hard to breathe
I need to take time off
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

NO more clapping of the hands
Now is the time to pray
That you’ll survive this killer big
And live another day
Go wash those hands, don’t clap them.
ljm

Happy New Year
One and all.
Bet you didn’t know -
Today is my Birthday.  
Yep - I am a New Years Baby.
Happy Birthday to me.
I sing it to myself
Because everybody else
Is too hung over to
Carry a tune.

So…. we will start
A brand new year
Together at HP.
But I feel like
I got nobbled -
I have to start it
A whole year older than
I was on New Year’s Eve,
And you all get to stay
the same age  
As you were last night.
****** bigtime.
       ljm

This morning a jet from the Air Force Base
Split the sky in two with a contrail
Set ablaze by the rising sun.
It cut a line across the clear blue sky
And disappeared beyond the far off mountains.
I watched it as those razor edges
Yielded to celestial winds
And began the transformation
Into wispy clouds across the heavens.
It wasn’t long until the jet’s invasion
Of the peaceful dawning of the day
Disappeared, and only I
Was witness to its transgression.
ljm

She stands before the bathroom mirror
Creating several different faces
Tryng to find the one that doesn’t
Make her look so tired and old.

Some of them make her look ill
A couple more look silly.
The one she finally settles on:
A wan and disappointed smile -

Accepted as least ugly of the bunch
It’s not the face she’d hoped to wear
In this the Autumn of her life.
She expected some small trace
Of former beauty to remain.

She tried to make a little sparkle
To liven up her somber eyes
And find the muscle in her cheek
That lifts her lips into a grin.

A sorry rictus of despair
Was all that effort brought her
So she gave up and threw the switch
And slipped away in darkness
ljm

I’m a little short on Joy today-
Got lotsa Pain and too much Duty.
Seem to be totally lacking in Glee
And Overdrawn on Happiness
While overstocked with Misery.
My Contentment check is overdue.
Got too much Little and hardy any Lots.
My Merriment has been recalled,
Leaving only wheels of Gloom.
My Happy Place is in foreclosure
And my Spirit’s locked in Chapter Seven.
My hopefulness is now Maxed Out
And tomorrow is an I.O.U.
ljm

My name is Clive the Centurian
I deliver my orders stentorian
I may stamp my feet
But it’s silence I greet
So I’m off to the sanitorium
                            ljm

I don’t remember checking out
But when I came back that afternoon
Someone else was in my room
And all my luggage was out in the hall.

I knocked and didn’t hear a sound
Until I banged again much harder
Then I heard the rustle of approach
And locks turned as the door was opened.

My fists were clinched, my throat was tight
And I had vicious anger at the ready,
But shock drowned out my burning ire
When I saw who was facing me

She was very old and somewhat fragile.
Not the beauty she’d once been,
But dressed in jammies and a shawl
With fuzzy slippers on her feet.

She didn’t hear the words I said
And seemed to not see me very well.
She smiled a very gentle smile
And asked what she could do for me.

I told her she was in my room
And I had scads of things to do,
With projects to take care of
And chores that needed seeing to.

She stepped aside and let me in
Where I could see things were a mess
The furniture was rearranged
And my stuff stacked up in a corner.

I pushed on in and desperately
Searched for my deadline-diary -
There were things to not mess up
And errors that I must not make.

But nothing seemed where it belonged
And I could not remember where
I put the most important notes
That got me where I had to be.

The elder lady tried to help
But searched for words that would not come
And bumped against important things
That rocked and tumbled with a crash.

Beside myself I spun around
In desperation and despair,
Looking for something to grasp
To tell me I was not insane.

I turned to ask the Granny’s help
But couldn’t find her anywhere.
Like smoke in wind she’d disappeared
Even though the door was locked.

Exasperation then took hold
And I flailed around in circles
Til I caught a movement in the mirror
An stopped to take a better look.

I stood before the glass and gaped.
The dear old girl gaped back at me.
How did she get inside the glass
And where had my own image gone?

What happened to the visage of
The super-girl who juggled knives
And kept plates spinning in the air
While never dropping one.

The knives, I saw, were on the floor
Underneath the sagging couch.
The plates that I had kept aloft
Were neatly stacked beside the kitchen sink.

Astonishment became dismay
As I tried to reconcile
The me who went to work this morning,
Primed for conquering the world,

And the someone I came back to find,
Not certain where I left myself
Or even where to start the search
To see if I existed.

Bereft of thoughts and lost among her words
That float around and won’t be caught
I puzzle how this came about
And I don’t know the answer.

But I can not avoid the fact
That it’s my face in that mirror.

ljm

Walking is my one escape
From the walls I find around my life.
Watching the sun break through the dark
Over nearby jagged mountains
Gives my soul the fuel to carry on.

Those walks and sunrise vistas
Are the leitmotif of
Many things I write.
They paint depression
Shades of pink and apricot.

I dredge my store of adjectives
To find new ways to capture
All I see and wonder at
Sometimes it turns into a song
That only I can hear me sing.

“Then sings my soul
My Savior God to thee
How great thou art
How great thou art”
There is religion in the sunrise.
          ljm

The shiny apple looked delicious
But it was high up in the tree
We jumped to reach it but we couldn’t
We found a ladder in the field
And carefully climbed up it
The rungs were covered with thick mud
And got our hands and clothes all *****
But we craved that shiny apple
Hungry as we were so long
Reaching out through tangled branches
It was in our grasp at last
Careful going down the ladder
So as not to drop the prize

Now time to take that first big bite
And oh how sweet the juices flowed
We’re stealing an admiring look
When suddenly we spot the worm-
It’s bad enough to see it there-
But what remains is only half
And something tickles in our throat
Will we fling the apple far away
To retch and spit and beg a mint
Or stay and eat around the worm.
ljm

What a wonderful moment this is
No pain to be felt anywhere
And everything working smoothly.
I walk with ease on metal hips
And swing the arm with its plastic rod.
I have no need to *** or ****
And the sunrise is outstanding.
The dogs I meet adore their treats
And every face is smiling.

Perfection is a scary thing.
It never lasts forever
But the memory of it does.
ljm

I sip joy from the tiny crevices
Of a colorless existence.
I search out small pockets
Of contentment in the dolor, and
I patch together ragged moments
Of almost fulfillment
To create an existance
That might resemble happiness.

I wear the smile that says I am OK
And speak the words of fabrication.
I do the things that ape a life worthwhile
And go to the places that back up the lie.
I tear the pages from my calendar
And wonder that there are so many more.
Still able to lift a heavy load,
I guess there’s nothing else for me
To do but carry on, so that is what I must.
ljm

Every night their cherished homes
Are scattered like spilled toothpicks
Across a wounded land that
Shudders under angry skies.

Every morning raging water crashes in
And floats away the little things
That added pleasure to their living
And leaves behind just soggy sadness.

Every afternoon the smoke filled skies
Make breathing in a dangerous thing
And leave scorched nothingness behind
To proclaim the power of that inferno.

Every dawning brings new hope
Like Manna from the Bible shining on
The plans and dreams of those
Who aim to vanquish all the tragedies

And make a tiny corner of the world
A cleaner, better, safer place to be;
Kinder to the injured spirit and the broken soul -
A healing, hopeful ointment for a wounded planet.
ljm

Falling in love with you was very easy.
You were exotic and beautiful to see.
A gateway to a very different lifestyle
So unlike the sad frustration I had known.

        Staying in love with you hasn’t been as easy.
        Differences we thought were small grew bigger
        And ways to to deal with them entailed much work
        But I never ever doubted that you love me

With a love that also holds a lot of need.
My love for you encompasses my own need
To lead us safely through the shoals of living
And be of use to your life and our world.

        The love that is our true foundation
        Never wavers in the storms of life
        And I’m beside you til the final curtain
        Proving that my love for you won’t die.
ljm

This is my first breviloquent poem.
Hope you think it’s a little bit eloquent.
                 ljm

My little brush with small dustpan
Is called a Table Crumber.
But I do not do fancy meals
That worry about bread crumbs

Instead it often sweeps behind
The Kitchen cupboard baseboards
For all the bits that fall that way
While I’m preparing dinner.

The standard broom is way too big
To get into those corners
To find the crumbs and bacon bits
That fly off of the counter.

So while its job is alternate
And not in fancy settings
My little brush is valuable
A fact Im not forgetting.
                             ljm