Winter will soon slip into
spring, all dressed in 
green; bouquet nights and
the rebirth of love.
Snakes gliding through
the grass.
But for now, we deal
with ice and snow,
slick roads and cold
hearts.

I was on the bus the
other day.
The driver had a
slippery scowl pasted
on her chubby face.
My mask had inched
down on my nose, and she
yelled, "put your mask
on or you will be off the bus."


I was having a terrible day already.
My asthma was acting up,
I could hardly breathe, and I had
just had to put my beloved
dog to sleep.
I miss her, but she slipped
away peacefully.


I rang the bell to get off at
my stop, as I chewed my
gum in passive anger.
I stood up and walked toward
the front of the bus.
The aisle was slick from
the snow and ice.
As I neared the exit door,
I took the gum out of my
mouth, so that I could throw
it away, but things went
horribly awry. 


I slipped on a wet
spot, and to catch
myself, I firmly planted 
my gum hand on the back
of the driver's head.
She had short hair, but still,
the *** of gum was now 
embedded in her golden 
locks.
I'm sure a haircut is
her near future.


Since then, I intend
to tread softly and cautiously,
and just maybe,
she does too.

The consent for war
is constantly being manufactured
and simply fed to the sleeping masses…
War is not good for us
nor our societies…
We are all part of a collective,
the nature of divinity!
Love thy neighbors
is still the golden rule.
We are mere humans
and war is a drowning pool!

in the depth of human tragedy
there is also this dillema
of tyranny
that either the truth or the lie
is going to crash the tyrant

they play reality games
and
the delusion will end in catastrophe
but
how much of the world is going to take with it?

spring is in a rush this year,
to affirm the rationality
of life

Sweetheart, the earth is getting cold
we have to do something
take ourselves by the hand
The guides walk away

in different directions
guided by the wishes
of their followers, that's how

it always goes, whatever you think of it
If only there were guardian angels
with power, not the writers

who meet in this café
no, a Guardian Council
for presidents and scholars

who want to unload graphite powder
on the north pole, throw atomic bombs
upon it, or build a dam

in the Bering Strait, with pumps
on peaceful nuclear energy
finishing the job

Yet... all of us, we
must do it ourselves, guard each other
with wings of compassion and reason

Ancient battle

Beautiful field blood-red poppies
ringed with delicate dandelions.
Once a battlefield
the righteous, in blue uniforms
shiny golden buttons.
The terrorists of the time
were farmers and shepherds.
The revolutionaries lost the battle
and many more.
In the end, the rebels won
got their land back.
When the field is ploughed
human skull appears
rebel or soldiers, who knows?
Rusty buttons surface too
not of gold, after all.

Who does Putin think he is
To move into Ukraine
In order to carry out his vicious
And murderous campaign?

His love of power has gone to his head;
His greed has hardened his heart.
He has proved that he knows how
To make corruption an art.

Decapitating the government
Of Ukraine: a Putin goal.
Then he can install pro-Russian leaders
And thus maintain control.

Dissenters in Russia who criticize
Putin's bellicose ways,
Can be arrested or worse, for Putin
Demands devotion and praise.

Freedom and democracies
Don't work, according to him.
But can the people vote him out?
Sadly, chances are slim.

He wants to show the world that he has
Control that's ironclad.
He thinks if his neighbors are democratic,
Then THAT makes him look bad.

Well, in truth it does, for he keeps
Russians under his thumb.
If you think things are bad right now,
Then watch what's yet to come.

-by Bob B (2-25-22)