I see the horsemen on the top of the hill
Surveying the evil below them,
Holding back their anxious steeds
Until the clock ticks down to zero
ljm

Made no longer risible
From a virus that’s invisible

Not allowed to travel
Our spirits now unravel

We can’t get excited
The country’s not united

A very clear selection
At the next election

One’s a crook with orange tan
And one’s an honest, decent man

History will clearly note
How carefully we cast our vote.
               ljm

Wringing what little joy I can
From a disappointing existence,
I go along my daily way
Wearing a pasted on smile

So no one ever will detect
The abject misery I hide
That seethes and boils inside
This construct of a person.

    I dot the I’s and cross the T’s
    And show up when expected.
    I pay the bills when they are due
    And share a bit with the needy.

          I’m organized, personified
          As an outstanding citizen,
          But deep inside where truth
          Be found, a desperate mirage

              That hides an angry little girl
              Who knows she’s being cheated
              Of all the things she knows she’s won
              And watched awarded elsewhere.
ljm

The moon, a slender eyebrow in the morning sky,
Ducking in and out of clouds that look
Like scattered pieces of charcoal,
Is as thin as the cover on my soul,
Which shivers in the icy wind
And ponders the unthinkable.

The moon was skinny yesterday
And several days before, as thin
As all the options now lined up
Like bottles on the fence posts of my heart
Waiting for a well tossed stone
To cause a resolution.

The moon has always been my friend
As I grow fat it waxes thin
And does not always answer if I call
Because I know it rides the sky
Like a golden palomino mare
That often won’t take me along.

The moon is shadowed by the storm
That roils the peaceful morning sky
And mirrors all the thunder in my mind
That follows lightning flashes of resolve
To once again become Selena’s mate
And course the planes of dawn together
                        ljm

Looking for a carpenter
Who takes tools lying close at hand
To build a love that’s lasting
And shelters us forever.

Longing for an equal love
In tune with my vibrations,
Looking through a matching lens
To see where we are going.

Aching for a kindred soul
Who shares all of my yearnings
Who doesn’t fear my shadowed nights
And lights a candle for me

A one who’s goals outpace my own,
Riding on an intellect
That causes mine to shiver
With excitement and new vistas.

If you are kind and love the earth
And all the creatures on it;
Are not afraid to cry or laugh,
And want to leave things better
Than you found them in your life,
Consider you are now employed,
And Payday is tomorrow.
                        ljm

I ever thought that I was traveling through this life alone.
That all the good and all the bad was of my own creating.
But there was someone traveling incognito with me. Someone guiding how I grew and who I loved. Someone promising a life that that radiates compasion.  It took a dozen dozen years to finally peel away the bland disguise... and Mr. Incognito stood before me in the form of Jesus, Son of God.
                                ljm

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

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

The bargains were lurking
Inside of each 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

Will the fealty of the masses
who have blindy followed a
Judas Ram into the perdition
we now face be shifted slightly
off target by the clarion call
issuing from the Good Shepherd
in search of her lost lambs.
ljm

If he loses, he promises war
If he wins, it’s total destruction
There is no safe pathway
Out of this dark woods of terror.

Can we balance a marble
On the tip of a dagger
And keep it from rolling off
And taking us down with it.

Can we dig a deep hole
That’s big enough to bury
All the laws that we need to preserve
So we can retrieve them one day.

If he loses he promises chaos
If he wins democracy dies
We must find a way to balance that marble
And manage to salvage our country.
ljm

I’d be derelict in my duty
That I owe to humankind
If I didn’t help the homeless
By every method I can find

That man may be a derelict
A hobo and a ***
As he slumps there on the gutter
Reeking of cheap ***

His address was a derelict
Condemned to be torn down
They’ve turned him out onto the street
And told him to leave town

But he’s still a human being
And his needs aren’t being met
The city has abandoned him
As one more losing bet

I offer him my tool shed
As a quiet place to sleep
But he turns down my offer
Says the price is way too steep.

He’d have to come and go on time
And follow simple rules
He says he’s better on his own
Among the other fools

Who populate the ***** streets
On the poorer side of town
He shambles off to join his pals
Leaving me to stand and frown.
ljm

I had a terrible day today
The computer ate my report
I broke my favorite crystal vase
My toasted cheese sandwich burned
I stubbed my sore toe on a heavy table leg
The letter I was waiting for didn’t come again

Then I found the half a cookie I put down and forgot
And everything in my world was suddenly all right again.
ljm

I am a mother without a child
Who comes to me for comfort.
I am a mother with a child
Who walked away from loving care
And chose to be a distant friend
Instead of a loving daughter

I am a mother with only one
Who really wanted to have two,
And wouldn’t have been sad at three.
But never won the right to choose
And had to make the best of what
Was offered as my portion.

Fifty years have come and gone
Plus two more for good measure.
The gap has narrowed not a whit
And my path still skirts the chasm.
I reach with practiced carefulness
To read the card that is my lot
As a mother with no daughter.
ljm

I moved into a home more spacious
   For it was far more efficacious
To the plan that I was hatching
    For the swain who needed catching.
I planned a fete extraordinary
   With decor far from ordinary
Music, food, debauchery
   And maybe even lechery
In hopes the beau I find delicious
   Grants me all my carnal wishes
              ljm

This year’s Estival
Was supposed to be the best of all
But a Chinese pandemic
Gave us something not to mimic
ljm

I’ve been nominated for
Sisyphean Of The Week
I had to work hard to get it
And it will be harder still to win it -
There’s a lot of competition.
It’ll be an uphill battle for sure
But I do believe that faith
Can still move every mountain
And this is just a little stone.
ljm

Half of a family growing up
Hand-me-down clothing to wear
Second hand cars and violins
Slightly used new sofas
Balcony where the cheap seats are
Bargain basement purchases
Lay-away plan for bigger things
Picking up coins from the sidewalk
Doing stoop labor for school clothes
Glasses that are only half full

Homemade cake at a card table
Three kids instead of a crowd
Only one fat Birthday candle
The kind used when lights go out

This is the menu they chose from
While ordering up my childhood life
Why should I expect more now
ljm

I’m changing my name to Carlo
So wonderful things can bubble forth
From me as well in nonstop waves
That threaten to ever so sweetly drown
Those who’ve chosen to follow.
ljm

33 bounces of the Merriam-Webster ball
33 Words I already knew
33 sentences using those words
Some bounced high on the like and love tally
Some fell as flat as leftover beer
Some rolled into corners and got themselves lost

The game was fun and then called a half-time
Without entertainment, but I hung around
Determined to witness the very last ball.

This is my homage to all 33 of them
Rolled Into M-Webster ball 34.

I dropped it with no little thought for the game
Surprised at not being surprised, I observed
This ball didn’t bounce-not even just once.
The fun is the game and not the reward.
                                          ljm

Our ship of state is being piloted by
A captain with no sea legs
and no navigational skill.
Hence the endless yaw
That leaves the passengers
Turning green and huddled
Over the **** deck rails.
ljm

Is anyone teaching AI 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 the robots prove that  
God is a myth
And assume that throne
For themselves?
Will the robots create
A different world
And people it with
Only machines?

Who is asking
And who is replying
To these fundamental questions?
                  ljm

Doobie
Such beauty I’s beholden
The stuff of all muh dreams
So tightly rolled ‘n golden
Sealed firmly at the seams.

I’s never gonna share it
It’s mine ‘n mine alone
Not even one small tiny ****
You don’t be holdin’, so jus go home.
ljm

Which way do you turn
When the world is upside down.
Spinning in circles doesn’t help
And it makes you very dizzy.
Running out and grabbling stuff
Only makes you greedy.
Selling at outrageous price
Turns you to a craven gauger
Who should have to eat what’s left.

Blaming is a losing game
No one is the winner.
Choosing sides and throwing rocks
Does nothing but break windows.
Hate won’t cure incompetence.
And can not drain a too-full self.
Arming up and locking down
Will only help you die alone,
Surrounded by your hoardings.
ljm

I need to be useful
I can’t stand to be helpless
I never learned how to say
Please help me - I can’t do this

I don’t know how to stand by
And let others do what I did
And can no longer manage
I must find a way around it

I’m not an observer
I need to carry the load
Don’t make me put it down
To do so is akin to dying
ljm

Other places, other times
Send hints of melodies
That echo in the hollow air
And call repeatedly to me

To leave the harsh and bittersweet
And find a way that leads
To those remembered days
Of usefulness and joy.

The notes play on an endless loop
That turns sad dreams to Musicals
And interferes with getting on
With all the mundane that is life.

Those other days and times are gone
They cannot be recaptured
The only thing they leave behind
Are notes of sad and wistful longing.
ljm

For want of the word
A thought is lost
For want of the thought
An idea is lost
For want of an idea
The plan’s unformed
Without any plan
My world is chaos
         ljm

If  anyone has the right to inveigh against the weather
It’s me, folks - it’s me.
If anyone plans to stay indoors all day
It’s me, folks - it’s me

If anyone’s thermometer reads 120 degrees
It’s mine, folks - it’s mine
If anyone’s TV says Dangerous Heat Warning
It’s mine, folks - it’s mine

If anyone wonders why they live here
It’s me folks - it’s me
If anyone says the sunrise is worth it
It’s me, folks it’s certainly me.
ljm

The whole world sings Happy Birthday Oprah
But I don’t see any cards or gifts.
I baked a little chocolate cake.
They won’t let me deliver it.

An Icon of so many things -
Once everybody got a car,
And now we know the books to read
And all the ways to diet.

It seems a shame that this award
Should fall across her shoulders.
When every virus has a name
And this one gets called Oprah
ljm

The roses are long gone
Now I search for dandelions

The cake has all been eaten
Now I dine on bread and butter

The festival has ended
Now they’re taking down the tents

The symphony is over
And there was somehow no applause

I fell into an undiscovered hole
And no one even heard me call for help.
               ljm

There used to be an index function on HP.  You could type in a name and be taken to that person's home page and their poetry.  It went away, and though I complained to Eliot York about the loss, it has not returned. He promided it would.
So I resort to this method, clumsy as it is.
There are others on my "Missing in Action" list.  Stay tuned.

I wish it would blizzard
Building forts is my forte
I live in Nevada
So no hope for a snow day
                     ljm

The Bible story tells the flood
That cleansed a very sinful world
And saved the barest minimum.

God sent a rainbow promise saying
Water would not bring doom again
And fire would bring the end next time.

Wars created conflagrations
But the world survived, and evil grew.

Then forests burned across the planet
Leaving desolation in their wake.

But the people found a way
To build new castles on the ash
And again the evil was let to grow.

A tiny germ that can’t be seen
Did everything the fires could not;
Bested blizzards and tornados,
Seeped into the earthquake crack
And learned to travel on the wind.

The Bible should have warned us
It would be a fever, not a fire;
That when those trumpets finally sound
It will be to call the cleaning crew
To come mop up what little’s left
          ljm

Little mouse in a room size maze
Every way you turn is wrong
And the cheese stays ever far away
If only you could cimb the walls
Or find a map to help you
Your tiny legs are very tired
And your brain is overloaded
But you can’t stop, for if you do
You get the current’s tickle
ljm

I know it’s hiding out there somewhere
That long sought after perfect verse
A silver dove that is a poem
And rides the wind on platinum wings
But I am blinded and I don’t know
The where or how to look for him.

I can hear his melody
And even catch a trace of words
But his glossary eludes me
And I can’t unlock the message

The pain’s a little bit like childbirth
I don’t know how to let it out.
I can’t pick up a razor blade
The need is more than only blood

Longing is a visual thing
Comprised of mist and foggy shadows
That render it impossible
To see a way to find that dove
The one whose tracks are etched in time
Across the sands of living
And the roadway to achievement

The struggle yet continues on
The beating in my weary chest
Is other than my  heart.
Another bird is trying to escape
It may not be the silver dove
But no one shuns a Robin

Somehow the vents are closed.
And little wings are growing weak.
It must not suffocate inside
Unsung, unwritten and unread.
                ljm

I think I turned too sharply and missed a step.
I didn’t trip, but I did slip and took a fall.
Now I find myself in the Twilight Zone
Without Rod Serling here to guide me.

I look around to read the words
But they are missing letters.
None of the names are known to me
All are new and foreign

Where are some of the names I know
Ones I read and write to
The ones who read the words I post
And join me on my journey.

Was there rotation of the troops
That I didn’t arrive in time for.
Am I in the wrong battalion now
Headed to places I’ve never been.

Where is Angstrom, Kortas and Omni
Where are Steve, Santita, P Paul
I don’t see Johari, Pradip or Bayan
Did they leave town with Traveler and M-E?

Looking for Fawn, and Graff 88
Ben Noah and Carlo and Walter H
Missing the add-ons of Temporal Fugue
Why are their fingerprints missing?

Who are all those honored poets
With names I’ve never heard before
How did they lap the regulars
In a daily race for notice.

Am I asleep - will I wake up
And find that it was just a dream
And now I’m back with names I know
And no more need to feel alone.

So I will I stay here with my pencil
Posting small bits of my soul
With never a thought to unknown names
Or whether mine will be remembered.
ljm

One stone tumbles
        Another follows
               And
                     The mountain
                              Is diminished
                                       ljm

The subtle beauty of the dawning sky,
As it paints the bottoms of the fluffy clouds
A delicious fire opal pink
Makes a vivid contrast to the vista
Of the brutal desert spread below it,
Rocks and sand in gray and tan.
Jagged cliffs rear fierce and black
Against the glory of the sunrise.

A land of thunder and sheet lightning,
Giant ploppy drops of rain
Blown sideways by the angry wind
Create a night of little sleeping,
Waiting for the appearance of the Sun
To boil the moisture into steam
And wilt the flowers and the soul,
Proving gentle beauty often hides a barb.
ljm

He was acquitted in a trial
With no witnesses allowed
And no testimony taken
The verdict a foregone conclusion
Even the Mafia couldn’t swing
A Sweetheart deal like that.
ljm

I try to see the beauty in a rose
But it smells just like a **** to me.

My pen is filled with lovely words
That I can’t put on paper.

My heart’s aware that it’s been robbed
Of everything that’s velvet

But it beats on in vain attempt
To recognize a bluebird.
ljm

I’m wearing red today
It matches the drops from my broken heart
And the crumpled hopes it held inside.

I’m wearing red today
It matches the seething, volcanic anger
That my love should be so spitefully disdained.

I’m wearing red today
It matches my eyes, bloodshot from weeping
Over things I did not do but have to pay for.

I’m wearing red today
I wonder if the blue veins in my wrist
Would empty grief in crimson red across the floor.
                  ljm

BIRTH OF JESUS
WHAT HE GAVE US -
GREATER GIFTS
THAN WALMART EVER DREAMED.

ljm

On the sad day I discovered you
Would no longer requite my love,
My world was torn asunder.
I fell to my knees in vain attempt
To cadge some trace of fondness -
Some kindred feeling, perhaps, of love
But alas, there was no shred of
Kindness offered to my plea -
No hope of any love restored,
Which meant the undertaker’s man
Must undertake arrangement of
A testimonial gathering to mourn
The loss of my true love and life.
       ljm

I see masses of little fluffy clouds
Spilled like a bag of giant popcorn
Across the azure morning sky,
The rest of the heavens are a cloudless blue,
Tinted pink by the rising sun.
This delight is for me alone,
Gazing East from my front porch.
ljm

I heard him say what’s killing us
Is nothing but a myth
And that he has a lawful rightMore
To make my mother sick

He will not cover up his face
Though everybody does
He swears the constitution says
He needn’t.... just because

He wears a seatbelt on a plane
And also in his car
It seems that safety matters there
But only goes so far.

He knows that life is full of rules
And laws he must obey
And whether he approves of them
They guide him every day

But suddenly the healthcare guide
No longer causes him to jump
He’s free to make the whole world sick
Just like his idol, Mr. Trump.
ljm

She was everybody’s sweetheart;
Respected, if not loved by one and all
But they couldn’t even put her in the ground
Before they started choosing her replacement.
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

Hello Poetry is the loadstone of my daily life.
It draws me to the keyboard when my duties tell me no.
It satisfies my childish need for approval of my thoughts
Even though I recognize the ephemerality of that.
I’m happy with it just the way it is, thank you.
ljm

There has to be a way
Am I too dumb to find it

There ought to be a path
Am I too blind to see it

There should be candles for the darkness
Why did I never light them

There must be a passage through all this
Why is it I do not believe

People say there is a rainbow
How can it not be in my sky

Who is the person holding me back
Why are you waving a mirror.
             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

Dancing in the midst of children
I writhe and dip and try in vain
To sidestep the unease that haunts me
And somehow spin away my pain.

This is the feast I was excused from
Long before I’d had my fill
Now I only watch the diners
Fresh come from my trough of swill.

I seek for caverns of forgiveness
Turning, gliding, bending  low
Reaching out in all directions
Stepping fast while the music’s slow.

Somewhere in the beat, nepenthe
Hidden in the mournful sound
Some small solace that might heal me
Help me back to solid ground.

Floating in the hazy twilight
Reeling from tobacco’s sting
I hide behind a veil of midnight
And listen to the words they sing.

Unknown to all by my design
I fight chameleon’s blending urges
And struggle to remain aloof
While searching for my futile purges.

Stretching muscles that complain
I swivel joints that protest loudly
Pushed by demons I can’t name
I hope that I can go down proudly.
    
As the thudding beat surrounds me
Pummeling my burdened brain
I wish that it could pound to flatness
Both my body and my pain.

Is there in this darkling cosmos
Any shelter for my broken soul
Or am I chasing moths on quicksand
Doomed to hold an empty bowl.
                                ljm