-R v. W and Kansas-

SCOTUS! Oh, my: what a sham!
And boy, are we in a jam!
The ruling it made
On Roe versus Wade
Sets us back fifty years. ****!

With their extremist mentality,
They THINK they're defending morality.
They merely show
What we all know:
That they're out of touch with reality.

The people of Kansas decided
That they will not be misguided.
Women won't lose
Their right to choose,
For reason and sense have presided.

-China-

China is rattling its saber
And hurling more threats at its neighbor.
Taiwan be free?
That just can't be:
A point China loves to belabor.

-Brittney Griner-

Brittney Griner has learned
How easy it is to get burned
In Putin's domain--
A scary terrain.
We all want Griner returned!

Let Russia be struck from your list
Of places to visit. The gist?
People's small actions
Are major infractions,
For justice there doesn't exist.

-by Bob B (8-4-22)

(For some reason, I found this poem in my DRAFTS. I guess I hadn't "published" it for public eyes, and it sat, along with 25 or so of my other poems, in my DRAFTS folder until today. Sorry about the delay.)

(This poem could be sung to the melody of "Michelle" by John Lennon and Paul McCartney.)

D.T., you'll see:
Though you fool your minions with your lies,
You don't fool me.
D.T., je sais…
Je sais qui vous êtes vraiment…se sais…
Je sais vraiment.
Say, what the hell were you thinking?
When you took all those docs?
You think that simple locks
Will protect top secret docs from getting out of your hands?

D.T., I'll say
You aren't fit to run this country, no,
I say no way.
There are folks out there who want you
To be their shining star.
They don't see who you are.
Or if they do, they might see through your guise, and they dare
Not to care.

You HAVE to know that you aren't guilt free.
But does that faze you? No.
You just put on your show.
To get your way you have to play the martyr each day.

D.T., you'll see.
Fess up to your wrongs and be a man.
Yes, be a man.
I say accountability's a word that you have to learn,
Dear D.T.

D.T., you'll see:
Though you fool your minions with your lies,
You don't fool me.

-by Bob B (8-14-22)

(For some reason, I found this poem in my DRAFTS. I guess I hadn't "published" it for public eyes, and it sat, along with 25 or so of my other poems, in my DRAFTS folder until today. Sorry about the delay.)

Do people tell you that you have
An RBF by any chance,
And when you're in their company,
You find that many look askance?

Having such a face might not
In the long run be so bad.
People just aren't sure if you
Are happy, bored, upset, or mad.

In fact, with an RBF,
Your ****** skin needs much less care
Because with fewer smiles or frowns,
Your face shows fewer signs of wear.

Our happy, smiling, laughing, frowning,
Or scowling faces can, I guess,
Have an expressive look right now
But soon become a wrinkled mess.

You've surely heard of Bette Davis,
The actress of the stage and screen.
When it comes to RBFs,
People say she was the queen.

Some don't like the expression at all.
When they hear it, ooh, they lose it.
That's why I, of course, must say
That I would never, ever use it.

-by Bob B (9-8-22)

°Resting ***** face

(For some reason, I found this poem in my DRAFTS. I guess I hadn't "published" it for public eyes, and it sat, along with 25 or so of my other poems, in my DRAFTS folder until today. Sorry about the delay.)

My memories give me a lot of comfort,
And every single one of them mends
My heart, which suffers from the loss
Of family, relatives, and friends.

Ah, those glorious days we spent
Together as we journeyed through life,
Sharing love, laughter, and cheer,
And sometimes struggles through storm and strife.

Lifetimes have varied--some were cut short
Long before we'd ever expected.
They are considered short stories
Among life's stories that we've collected.

Others have been more fortunate.
Their lives are Russian novels, I'd say.
They lived through multiple generations--
Their skin grew wrinkled; their hair turned gray.

Some folks plan to reunite
With loved ones for all eternity.
Others are more inclined to believe
The idea: whatever will be will be.

Of course, we'd rather have the departed
With us, and in a way they are.
The light of their being shines on us
As does the light of a distant star.

Therefore, take comfort in memories--
A gentle balm that after a while
Will ease your anguish, lessen your pain,
Dry your tears, and make you smile.

-by Bob B (1-4-23)

(For some reason, I found this poem in my DRAFTS. I guess I hadn't "published" it for public eyes, and it sat, along with 25 or so of my other poems, in my DRAFTS folder until today. Sorry about the delay.)

Putin's year-long war continues
To batter Ukraine--to ****, to destroy.
The autocrat's reasons for being there
Are definitely a political ploy.

Killing civilians while also attacking
Ukraine's infrastructure as well,
The Russians are bent on total destruction.
Where this will go is hard to foretell.

And Russian sympathizers here
Join in with Putin's sing-a-long.
Florida's governor, Ron DeSantis,
Claims that Putin's done nothing wrong!

Who can tell where DeSantis gets
His false information and mistaken views?
Probably from too many incorrect
Podcasts and also from watching Fox News.

While Russia ramps up its fierce attacks,
Ukraine will fight to the bitter end.
Here's a reminder for those who've forgotten:
Putin, folks, is NOT our friend.

We pledged our support for Ukraine, and so
For the sake of freedom, we MUST follow through.
Condoning Putin's atrocities
Would certainly be the wrong thing to do.

-by Bob B (2-21-23)

(For some reason, I found this poem in my DRAFTS. I guess I hadn't "published" it for public eyes, and it sat, along with 25 or so of my other poems, in my DRAFTS folder until today. Sorry about the delay.)

Did God create human beings,
Or was it the other way around?
The question resembles a Zen koan--
Such as the one-handed clapping sound.

To some, merely asking the question
Is a virtual powder keg.
It's like the question: What came first--
Was it the chicken, or was it the egg?

Some things are beyond knowing:
We can only speculate
As to how and why we got here.
It's still fun to contemplate.

The writers of all religious scriptures
Have a bias they choose to share.
They hope that their ideas will make
Curious, hungry believers aware.

The story behind human existence
To some is a matter of great pith.
Others have a difficult time
Accepting a simple creation myth.

Some folks are not satisfied
And want to gaze beyond the façade--
Beyond the human formulations
That try to define the concept of God.

People adhere to what makes sense
To them, and some of them will chide me,
For I prefer to allow science,
Reason, and common sense to guide me.

Being able to think and question
Are benefits of humankind.
So who created whom? The query
Will always challenge the questioning mind.

-by Bob B (3-20-23)

(For some reason, I found this poem in my DRAFTS. I guess I hadn't "published" it for public eyes, and it sat, along with 25 or so of my other poems, in my DRAFTS folder until today. Sorry about the delay.)

You think you're healthy and in good shape.
Cholesterol is low.
Blood pressure is not a problem.
You've got some get-up-and-go.

You go on a daily four-mile walk.
You eat as well as you can.
Fruits and vegetables are both
Part of your daily plan.

Yes, you like your sweets; you feel
Life must have some perks.
You try to balance the good with the bad
And always hope that it works.

Avoiding stressful debt, you live
Comfortably in the black.
And then without any warning, what happens?
You have a heart attack!

Life we know is full of surprises.
Expect the unexpected.
It's strange how a problem with one's heart
Could long go undetected.

The help from paramedics and doctors
And nurses--I can say--
Has given me a new lease on life,
For I am alive today.

A stent in a major artery lets
The blood flow near the heart.
I hope that no more blockages
Will show up in my chart.

Although our bodies are strong and resilient,
It is also said
That despite our resiliency,
We hang by the thinnest thread.

I hope my ticker keeps on ticking,
Displacing some of my fears;
And may the beats continue to sound
For many, many years.

-by Bob B (4-2-23)

(For some reason, I found this poem in my DRAFTS. I guess I hadn't "published" it for public eyes, and it sat, along with 25 or so of my other poems, in my DRAFTS folder until today. Sorry about the delay.)