Halloween night 2015--
A bevy of goblins and ghouls
Out there in the dark of the night
Met to shape their new rules.

"Let us unite! Let us be one
In our quest to upset the truth."
Their work, they agreed, would come to fruition
In a future polling booth.

"Stir the cauldron of rampant despair;
Throw in confusion and doubt.
Add a pinch of oblivion so no one
Knows what we're about.

Let us deceive with facile duplicity;
Let us trick the unwary.
Above all, don't let them see our true selves.
THAT, fellow ghouls, would be scary!"

Their voices rose in the crisp autumn darkness--
A murky, grumbling chant:
"Hiss. Hiss. Ignorance is bliss.
Woe to them who recant….

"Let us be amorphous and vague;
Let them see what we're not.
Give us the power of doublespeak
To dodge all critical thought."

Werewolves howled. Black cats screeched.
A haunting moan filled the air.
A poor, disoriented bat got tangled
In one ghoul's corn-tassel hair.

"May we strengthen our power to mislead--
To obliterate those who defy us
With vicious attacks based on lies.
We'll let nothing get by us.

"Let us prolong the witching hour.
May it last for a years!
Stir the *** of forgetfulness,"
They all said with sneers.

Halloween night 2015--
A frightening night to remember.
Beware the ghoul leading the pack
In 2016 in November.

- by Bob B

Caught out in a deadly blizzard,
We thought the end was near.
Experiencing zero percent visibility
And insurmountable fear,
We pictured our helpless, frozen bodies--
Icicles à la mode--
When rescue vehicles finally found us
Next to a country road.
Having lost all sense of direction--
In total disorientation--
We considered all of our options
With mounting trepidation.
Suddenly two lights appeared
In our rear-view mirror.
What a sigh of relief we breathed
As a truck got nearer!

Try to stay calm. Do not panic.
Land sakes alive!
There she was to save the day:
Granny in her four-wheel drive.
 
Hank and June were expecting a child
During a storm one spring.
To make matters worse, Hank had been injured--
His arm was in a sling.
June said, "Oh, oh. Baby's comin',"
And Hank started to panic.
"The roads are flooded and the bridges are down!"
Cried the desperate mechanic.
"Besides, I couldn't drive the stick
In my current condition
Even if the roads were good.
What's that? An apparition?"
Through the rain-streaked window Hank
Could see some flashing lights.
Granny was there in her trusty truck,
Repeatedly flashing her brights.
 
Try to stay calm. Do not panic.
Land sakes alive!
There she was to save the day:
Granny in her four-wheel drive.
 
There's a legend on the prairie.
You hear it far and wide.
You can believe the story or not.
Whatever. You decide.
As a monster storm approached
A small Midwestern town,
Swirling clouds indicated
A tornado had touched down.
Granny jumped into her truck
Without a shred of concern,
And driving toward the twister past
The point of no return,
She raced into the monster dead on--
Talk about courage and pluck!--
And knocked the twister to smithereens
With hardly a scratch on her truck!
 
Try to stay calm. Do not panic.
Land sakes alive!
There she was to save the day:
Granny in her four-wheel drive.
 
Whenever you find yourself es in a bind
And wonder how you'll survive,
Think about Granny coming to the rescue
In her four-wheel drive.

- by Bob B

Beware of the two-headed monster
Of incalculable size—
An amorphous, protean shape
That attacks by surprise.
 
This monster relies on deception
To corner its unwary prey;
You fall into its clutches
Once your endurance gives way.
 
One of its faces is comely,
Displaying a luring smile
And a look of apparent compassion—
Both of which beguile.
 
Its mouth forms words of loyalty,
Morality, honor, virtue,
Freedom, pride, and values;
You wonder how that could hurt you.
 
But what you don’t see directly
While you’re busy being stung
By all the sly, false promises
Is the monster’s disgusting forked tongue.
 
The other face of the monster
Is hideous beyond belief—
Bearing an insidious smirk
And a mien that fills you with grief.
 
The mouth on this face spews hatred,
Poison, distrust, hypocrisy,
And duplicitous manipulation—
A threat to any democracy.
 
It pours out dangerous platitudes
And remedies that mislead.
Underneath its artifice
Runs callousness and greed.
 
The monster, of course, uses trickery
To let you see only one face;
But it keeps its nefarious tactics
Constantly in place.
 
With tentacles of far-reaching range,
It reaches out to clasp
Any heedless victim
And hold him or her in its grasp.
 
So beware of the two-headed monster
And its growing provocation.
Only two things can **** it:
Reason and education.

- by Bob B

The travel-weary pilgrim trudged
Onward toward his goal--
Hoping to find peace and comfort
For his questioning soul.
 
Uphill and downhill, through forests and fields,
Step by step he plodded
Upon the blistering path. While passing
Fellow pilgrims he nodded.
 
Beating down upon him the sun--
Merciless, piercing, terrible--
Made each step an agonizing
Ordeal--harsh and unbearable.
 
A restful night at a hostel or shelter
Was refuge from the pain
Of hours and hours of walking
Through sweltering heat or rain.
 
Some days were kinder--the sun was gentle,
The breeze was soft and cool.
He'd stop and gaze at the blue sky above him
And wash his feet in a pool.
 
But usually hungry and thirsty he journeyed,
Hoping not to find
That after hours of walking and stumbling
He'd left something behind.
 
Loosening the cutting strap of his backpack
And giving his dry lips a lick,
He carefully wiped his dripping brow
And clutched his walking stick.
 
If his pilgrimage didn't bring him
Closer to God, it would
At least bring him closer to himself,
And that alone would be good.

- by Bob B

No one has a monopoly on God.
When you hear them say that they do,
Make a dash for it! Don't wait around
For them to impose their merciless coup.
 
No group has a monopoly on truth.
Of those who say they "know" be skeptical.
If their "knowledge" can't stand up to questioning,
Their mind isn't more than an empty receptacle.
 
Terror and fear make desperate converts.
Truth and wisdom transcend petty goals.
Some will try to sell you a bill
Of goods that's full of vagaries and holes.
 
Beware of those with the gift of gab
Who promise to guide you down a path
Of slick salvation and tempting allurements,
Though one false step incurs God's wrath.
 
Beware of those who say they know
The mind of God both inside and out
And curse your attempts at inquiry
When with an open mind you doubt.

No one has the right to judge you
And tell you that you're going to hell.
Watch out for the crazed fanatic
And the sanctimonious ne'r-do-well.
 
Put everything into perspective.
Love and compassion should be your course.
Belief should be all about choice
And definitely not a product of force.

- by Bob B

Some don't want to be awakened
From their peaceful slumber
And choose not to hear the existing truths
That overwhelmingly outnumber
 
The copious, complacent fairy tales
That fill their lives and dreams
And hold them hostage from the facts
Completely, or so it seems.
 
Their sleeping pill is called "Not Caring."
It's cheap and easy to find.
It dulls the senses and provides the user
With a perfidious peace of mind.
 
A stronger pill called "Oblivion"
Is also widely available.
Those who take it think that their lack
Of involvement is unassailable.
 
Stronger yet is a pill called "Forgetfulness."
Many prefer that pill,
Which allows them the blissful ability
To forget anything at will.
 
So cheap they are--these drugs of preference--
That they have found their niche;
And furthermore, they don't discriminate
Between the poor and rich.
 
Instead of listening to the cries of the world--
Of injustice, of inhumanity--
Many prefer to sleep in indifference.
Now that's what I call insanity!

- by Bob B

Eight at night and the doorbell rang,
And THERE right before my face
Was a newspaper—almost touching my nose
And barely giving me breathing space.
 
“Here’s your free paper,” I heard a voice say.
I stepped back to read the name of the rag.
At once in my mind I realized that
The name of the paper had raised a red flag.
 
“Sorry, but I don’t read that one.
Anyway, thank you for your time,”
I said to the kid as I started to close
The door, but the kid blurted out, “I’m
 
Hoping that you’ll subscribe to my paper.
Sign up right here; you won’t regret it.”
I shook my head in amazement and said,
“Do you know what? I don’t get it:
 
“I just told you that I don’t read it,
So why would I want to buy a subscription?”
The frustrated kid refused to take NO
For an answer and started to have a conniption.
 
“BUT...just do it for me!” he cried.
“The more I sell, the better my luck
In winning a trip to Hawaii; what’s more,
I’m also trying to earn a buck.”
 
At THIS point I was the frustrated one.
I thought to myself, This guy’s too much!
He’s completely clueless; moreover, he’s acting
Like a son of a such and such!
 
“Good luck with your sales,” I politely said.
“But wait, I’ll wash your car!” he cried.
“I’ll mow your grass; I’ll trim your trees.”
“NO thanks, AND good-by,” I replied.
 
Exasperated he bellowed out,
“I need this sale to up my score!”
I calmly said, “This conversation
Is over,” as I closed the door.
 
I didn’t hear him walk away;
For all I know he could be there still
Pushing his paper, trying to earn
More points but actually scoring nil.
 
While the kid lacked tact and subtlety,
I doubt he’d ever take my advice.
A bit more sense would serve him well,
And a little less pushiness would suffice.
 
A future politician? I wondered.
Or maybe a future billionaire?
Whatever the case, he's got chutzpah,
I thought as I returned to my chair.

- by Bob B

Guarded* is a key word for you.
You keep your privacy highly protected.
Your reluctance to openly
Exhibit your feelings must be respected.

Though you are interested in others,
They know you ONLY to a degree.
Even when seemingly open, you show
Only what you want them to see.

Your strong will and your ability
To want to get to the bottom of things
Make your sense of resourcefulness
Guide you to seek out and pull the right strings.

You can be very stubborn at times;
Your reticence becomes persistence.
You're not usually combative, but when
You're pushed you knock down all resistance.

If people try to fool you, forget it.
You DON'T like being manipulated.
The outspokenness of Scorpios
Often remains understated.

You could be called a truth-seeker;
Your insight is powerful, your judgment keen.
Challenges are not to be feared
And must be brought into your routine.

You must learn how to master
The two forces of need and desire
So you can develop your potential
To manage the power that you require.

Until it's unleashed, true Scorpio
Energy stays deeply hidden.
Everyone knows that criticizing
A Scorpio is strictly forbidden.

You might tend to dominate
Relationships, so do be wary.
That your intensity can overwhelm
Others for you is customary.

You're not arrogant or self-involved;
Inner struggles you rarely display.
Allowing others to see your weakness
To you would be a cause of dismay.

You appear to be easy-going
And have to learn that it is fine
To manifest the intensity
Associated with the sign.

Your power and magnetism
Can be for some an inspiration,
As well as your stamina
And your fierce determination.

Your mental and physical powers
Of recuperation, along with--of course--
Your creativity,
Make you a guiding force.

- by Bob B

Jimmy Lee loved Gertie
From the bottom of his heart.
He swore on stacks of Bibles
That they would never part.
She was his dearest love
In his whole durn life.
If things were very different,
She would be his wife.
 
He would take her everywhere
He could. Ain’t that sweet?
He’d take her to the movies,
Then later out to eat.
He loved to show her off
When going to the store.
They had the perfect life.
Who could ask for more?
 
When Jimmy Lee went driving,
He’d take her for a ride.
It made him feel so good
To have her by his side.
And, oh, how he smiled
When he took her to church!
He knew his Gertie wouldn’t
Leave him in the lurch.
 
She wasn’t much for housework
Or taking care of chores.
She wouldn’t wash the windows;
Nor would she sweep the floors.
Jimmy, he did everything;
He pampered his ol’ girl.
But after all, his Gertie
Was his shining pearl.
 
Gertie always loved--
And it really wasn’t strange—
To spend a lot of time
At the firing range.
To Jimmy Lee that was
The epitome of fun.
Oh! By the way:
Gertie was his gun.

- by Bob B

Many think that the poor have it easy.
Well, let’s see if they really do....
Ah, they must if you carefully consider
What they do NOT have to go though.
 
They DON'T have huge investment dilemmas,
Such as "Is my portfolio complete?"
Or "Will I maintain my financial status?
It's hard keeping up with the elite!"
 
The poor aren’t faced with countless decisions
That make their daily lives so insane:
“Which car should I drive—the Mercedes or Lexus?”
“Armani or Gucci?” “Which pill for pain?"
 
The poor do not have thousands of options
For health care, so for them it’s a breeze.
"Why do they need preventative medicine?
Emergency care should put them at ease."
 
Taking care of a mansion is tough,
So the rich always have a reason to grouse.
"The poor have it easy with just an apartment,
Or if they’re lucky, a ramshackle house."
 
The rich, having to juggle their money,
Are in a quandary, so to speak.
"The poor can live simply, for they get to live
From paycheck to paycheck, from week to week."
 
It’s hard to organize fancy dinners;
To get the best caterers, you have to pull strings.
"It's so much easier for the poor:
On food stamps can’t they still live like kings?"
 
Hiding millions of dollars is a challenge;
The Cayman Islands are so far away.
"For those don’t have the money to hide,
Life’s less hassle for them, you might say."
 
Tax loopholes are also a headache;
It’s hard to determine which ones work best.
"Those with no money don’t have to worry
Because they lack the funds to invest."
 
Just ask the poor: if they had a choice,
Would they be willing to make a switch,
And give up the easy life of the poor
For the complex, difficult life of the rich?

- by Bob B

The wounded vet marched in the town's
Memorial Day Parade
With feelings of pride along with the sense
Of having been betrayed.

He'd fought in nightmarish skirmishes
In a hellish no man's land,
Pledging allegiance to a country whose war
He didn't understand.

Though proud he was to have served his country,
He couldn't always claim
To be proud of his country at times,
Which was a rotten shame.

When signing up he knew he might
Have to pay a price--
But not the feeling of abandonment
For his sacrifice.

In some ways he felt lucky, for he'd
Returned with his duffel bag--
Unlike some of his friends who had
Come home wrapped in a flag.

The crowds cheered, the bands played,
The ceremony was formal.
Afterwards, the crowds would go home;
Their lives would go back to normal.

Normal for him was a daily struggle,
Therapy, medication,
Recurring dreams, unemployment,
Continuous frustration.

"No more empty promises;
No more tales or lies,"
He muttered softly as "Taps" was played
And tears streamed from his eyes.

- by Bob B

Total shock, I say, what occurred
At our local aquarium in recent years.
Some call it the type of scandal
That violently shakes two hemispheres.

Henry and Roxy had been an item.
Much older than she, Henry was bound
To guard and protect his little lady.
A more loyal penguin was hard to be found.

How they loved to sing together!
He would belt out and she would intone.
The happy couple frolicked and preened--
Happy not to be alone.

Molting season came and Roxy
Experienced her catastrophic molt.
Henry stood by and guarded his sweetheart.
Of attentiveness he lacked not a jolt.

Roxy's feathers soon returned
And there she was in all her glory.
Then poor Henry started his molt.
That's when Floyd entered the story.

While Henry hid from penguin view,
Floyd caught Roxy's eyes.
His feathers were back in abundance.
What happened next? You can surmise.

When Henry's feathers finally returned,
Floyd had become Roxy's new mate.
They did what penguin couples do
While Henry sadly accepted his fate.

The new family soon multiplied,
And Henry eventually found a new friend.
What started out as an outrageous scandal
Wasn't so horrible in the end.

Scandals come and scandals go.
Some of them are hard to avoid.
Aren't you glad that you don't molt
Like our friends Henry and Roxy and Floyd?

- by Bob B

We often hear about radical Muslims,
And some do pose a threat.
But there are other dangerous radicals
About whom people forget.

Radical Christians and radical Hindus:
Both have been in the news.
Yes, there are even radical Buddhists
And also radical Jews.

Radical WHATEVERS can be a danger--
No matter the crusade they declare.
The problem is not one certain group,
But radicals everywhere.

To see extremists twist religion
Is especially galling;
To see it used to justify cruelty
And hatred is appalling.

All should follow their conscience but must
Let others do the same.
The freedom to choose one's path should be
A universal aim.

If people use religion to condemn
And to stifle query and thought,
Today's relevance of their religion
And values amounts to naught.

- by Bob B

"What are you holding, son?
It has a familiar glow."
"It's just a gun--a toy
You gave me years ago."

"What are you doing, son?
Where are your old toy guns?"
"I grew quite bored with them.
I wanted more powerful ones."

"Why are you smiling, son?
Has something caught your eye?"
"I've found more challenging targets:
Those wild birds passing by."

"Where are you going, son?
I hear your laughter no more."
"You shouldn’t have to ask;
I'm off to fight your war."

"Why are you sighing, son?
Why do you feel so bad?"
"I've seen humanity's flaws;
The knowledge makes me sad."

"Where are you lying, son?--
In a place that's safe and concealed?"
"Safe? Bah! I'm lying
In a war-torn, barren field.

"Why are you crying, father?
Couldn't you foresee
That the fate that befell others
Could also happen to me?"

- by Bob B

Just because something's a tradition
Doesn't mean it's appropriate today.
As times change, so do traditions.
It's good that some are now passé.

Duels--for example--to "defend one's honor"
Were commonly practiced in the olden days.
In modern times people get
"Satisfaction" in other ways.

At one time eunuchs were numerous in China,
And many were employed in the Imperial Service.
Would you do that for a government job?
Yikes, the thought of it makes me nervous.

Castrati, too, were praised in the past
For childlike voices that were second to none.
But those whose voices deteriorated
Sadly lost out in more ways than one.

Years ago a widow in India
Threw herself on the funeral pyre
Of her dead husband. That practice is one
That people--thank goodness--no longer require.

What about animal sacrifice?
Let's hope it remains a thing of the past.
People should try a less harmful substitute:
Cut out chocolate; go on a fast.

Some wedding traditions are simple and harmless;
Brides wear something borrowed or blue.
Customs that don't deny us our rights
Or cause harm to others are ones to pursue.

The list of traditions could go on forever;
People feel they're a way to maintain
Our culture. But clearly certain customs
Are now outmoded or inhumane.

As long as we move with the times, we grow.
We learn from the past, but move ahead.
Moldy traditions that don't embrace
Love and compassion are better off dead.

- by Bob B

In Rājagaha the Well-Farer lectured
On wisdom, concentration, morality…
The monks listened, devoutly, calmly,
To the message replete with practicality.

On to Ambaliṭṭikā they journeyed,
To Nālandā and Pāṭaligāma as well.
The Buddha continued to spread the Dhamma--
Or teachings--at which he was known to excel.

After passing over the Ganges,
To Koṭigāma they made their way.
The Buddha repeated the Four Noble Truths
That still guide many people today.

At Nādikā the Teacher referred to the Mirror
Of Dhamma and said to always begin
By looking first at yourself to discover
The truth that lies deep within.

On to Vesālī the ascetics wandered,
Where their Master continued to share
The power and value of mindful living--
The importance of being clearly aware.

During the rains the Awakened One rested
In Beluva, where he postponed his trek.
While staying there he grew ill, but he knew
It was NOT his time, so it kept it in check.

"Live as islands," he said to Ānanda,
"With truth as a refuge. And grasp not, for I
Have always told you that all things dear to us--
Whatever is born--eventually will die."

After the rains, the group traveled
To the Great Forest--to the Gabled Hall,
And the Buddha repeated the Eightfold Path--
A message of wisdom pertaining to all.

Bhoganagara was their next stop,
And then to Pāvā the wayfarers did go.
Their host, Cunda, served "pig's delight."
The Buddha grew ill. Why? We don't know.

Despite his illness, he continued
To Kusinārā and lay down to rest.
Music sounded and flowers fell
From the sky to honor the One-Who-Is-Blessed.

"The Dhamma will now be your teacher.
Strive on untiringly. My time has passed."
After entering deep concentration
The Great One died. Those words were his last.

Thunder sounded and the ground shook--
As it does when any great teacher "goes to sleep."
The Buddha is Dhamma; the Dhamma is the Buddha.
Because of that there's no reason to weep.

The compassionate Buddha's Teachings have spread
For over two thousand five hundred years.
His Message of living in wisdom and compassion
And loving mindfulness perseveres.

- by Bob B

The Masters of Illusion perform
Before your very eyes.
Their clever tricks will astound you--
Watch for each surprise.

Their skillful tactics mesmerize
And seem to entertain.
Caught off guard, you overlook
Their verbal legerdemain.

Artists in deception, they
Require a double take.
Upon scrutinizing them,
You see that they are fake.

They love to pull something out of a hat.
Notice as they grab it:
Hey! A corporate tax loophole!
That is NOT a rabbit!

When caught in their own traps they can
Mysteriously disappear
And suddenly show up again
When the coast is clear.

Cutting things in half occurs
Before the curtain call.
You hardly notice that they're robbing
Peter to pay Paul.

There's always something up their sleeve--
Sort of a bait and switch.
A promise might end up being
Tax cuts for the rich.

Be careful when they smile and say
They want to be your friend.
That's just a ploy; you'll see that
They'll ***** you in the end.

Once they pull out their deck of cards,
You see that they've embarked
On a new, crafty deceptive path.
(Their cards are usually marked.)

They never fail to beguile and amaze--
These Masters of Illusion.
Just know you're always being duped;
But that's a foregone conclusion.

- by Bob B

The day starts out like any day--
A Saturday morning just like most others.
The diner is buzzing with customers:
Grandparents, kids, fathers, mothers.

Breakfast specials, waitresses dashing
To and fro--no time for slacking.
Each waitress proudly displays her handgun.
(This is a state where everyone's packing.)

Somebody hears a man complain
To the waitress, saying his eggs aren't done.
He doesn't like how she responds,
So he kills her with one shot from his gun.

Suddenly all hell breaks loose.
Bullets go flying; people are screaming.
Covered with blood, a survivor says later,
"It happened so fast, I thought I was dreaming."

Shrieking at seeing the waitress fall,
A young mother aims at the shooter,
Missing him and instead sending
A bullet into the town's prosecutor,

Whose wife shoots at the impulsive mother,
Hitting the woman smack in the head.
Meanwhile, the husband points his gun
At his wife's killer, shooting her dead.

Customers everywhere dive for cover,
Aiming their guns in the air and firing.
Popping noises drown out the screams
And moans of people hit and expiring.

Running out of the kitchen a cook
Shoots his gun in all directions,
Missing his targets and yet hitting someone
And displaying his shooting imperfections.

Someone else has better aim--
Or a random bullet plays its part--
For Henry, the cook, falls to the floor
When a bullet pierces his heart.

The busboy--having been grazed in the face--
Shoots into the chaotic river
Of mayhem and bullets. He is killed
When he is shot through the stomach and liver.

Pockmarked with holes, the once-cheerful joint
Is now streaked and splattered with blood.
Survivors will never forget hearing
Each bang and scream, followed by a thud.

Everybody gets caught in the crossfire.
The rounds spare neither adult nor child.
(Fifteen people lose their lives
By the time all the reports are compiled.)

When the police arrive at the diner,
In horror they observe the slaughter.
The sheriff suddenly screams out in agony
When he notices his blood-covered daughter.

On the wall, a TV is playing.
Somehow it has managed to survive.
On the news an NRA
Spokesman is being interviewed live,

Saying that America needs more guns
And that gun regulation is obscene.
Aiming his gun at the TV, the sheriff
Pulls the trigger and blows out the screen

- by Bob B

What is this thing that we have about a wall?
For centuries humans have had occasion
To build structures in hopes to forestall
Any threat of attack or invasion.
 
The Great Wall of China is very well known,
Requiring effort to be built through the ages.
A structure of such immensity requires
That it be designed and completed in stages.
 
Thick walls of castles and fortresses abound
To protect against plunder and pillage.
Protective walls also surround
Many a quaint Medieval village.
 
As you traverse America you’ll see
Walls and fences throughout the land.
DO NOT ENTER signs naturally will be—
Along with NO TRESPASSING—in great demand.
 
Around many homes is a wall or a fence—
Usually, that is, around the back yards.
Some people go to greater expense
And live in a gated community with guards.
 
Sometimes I wonder if they’re worth the labor—
All of these fences built at great cost.
But some say a good fence makes a good neighbor,
Referring to the line in a poem by Frost.
 
There are reasons for walls, no doubt.
In East Germany and East Berlin,
Instead of trying to keep people out,
Walls were constructed to keep people in.
 
Walls around prisons also deter
The inmates from fleeing before they’re released.
When seeing school walls, we can infer
How much school violence has increased.
 
The wall that Israel has built—we can see—
Winds in and out of the West Bank location.
It’s there for defense, we are told, although we
Can also see that it’s for separation.
 
Some want a wall on our southern border.
That will solve our problems, they say.
Frankly, that would be a tall order
Who has the money to fritter away?
 
Some walls are the intangible kinds—
The ones around us that are invisible
And prevent us from truly opening our minds.
To deny their existence would be risible.

I wonder: will it ever end--
This building of barriers to keep us apart?
It seems as though we're trying to extend
The wall surrounding the human heart.

- by Bob B

Seeking wisdom beyond wisdom
Is not as easy as some people say.
Once you think you've reached your goal,
You find you're miles and miles away.

All the words--the scriptures, the sayings--
Amount to a mere particle of dust
When compared with ultimate truth,
Beyond all measure, profound, robust.

The dangerous ones, who judge and condemn,
Who blame and shame and vilify,
Smolder in the embers of intolerant beliefs
That shape their moral battle cry.

Yongjia Xuanjiao of the Tang Dynasty--
Thinker and inspirational muse--
Cautioned humanity NOT to slander
The vast blue sky with limited views.

- by Bob B

Everything is a lesson
Whether we like it or not.
Everything has a meaning.
Everything’s food for thought:
 
Unfortunate times, our triumphs,
Days both happy and sad,
People who warm our hearts,
People who drive us mad,
 
Illnesses and wellness,
Incidents that we regret,
Things we’ll remember forever,
And things we would like to forget.
 
Life makes more sense when
We open our eyes and our minds.
It’s like a light bulb going on,
Or like someone opening the blinds.
 
When we see interconnectedness—
When everything’s not about US—
Causes and conditions
Show us there’s always a THUS.
 
BOTH seeing and knowing
Guide us in understanding
The world around us; however,
The truth is also demanding.
 
You wonder: Does all of this knowing
Provide us with much consolation
When we feel so helpless
In effecting a transformation?
 
Some things seem so simple,
And yet they’re complicated.
It turns out the golden rule
Is far too underrated.
 
Too many people can’t see
The forest for the trees.
They claim to offer assurance,
But end up causing unease.
 
Sometimes the lessons we learn
Are hard to reconcile—
Especially when fanatics’
Tactics are cruel and vile.
 
Blinded by ideologies,
They lack genuine caring;
Their means for achieving their goals
Are violent and overbearing.
 
Is it that they do not see?
Or is it that they do not care?
Lying to themselves prevents them
From becoming truly aware.
 
It’s sad for the many victims
Whose lives are miserably affected
By those ideological thugs
Whose goals are misdirected.
 
It’s how we USE what we’ve learned
To help us make changes—to act—
To help us make smart decisions,
Using our wisdom and tact.
 
Learning from all of life’s lessons,
Combined with introspection
Or getting in touch with ourselves,
Is a step in the right direction.
 
Just always keep in mind
That whether we like it or not,
Everything has a meaning;
Everything’s food for thought.

- by Bob B

"We’d like you to join our amazing group.
Though some might call us a cult, we're not.
We don't resort to brainwashing. No,
We don't try to control each thought.
 
"We just teach you the right way to think;
We teach you how to "choose" your words,
How to act, and how to feel.
Critical thinking is for the birds.
 
"Therefore, you won't have to wonder
What is right and what is wrong here.
Since questioning, doubting, and dissenting confuse you,
Let's just say that they don't belong here.
 
"Our way, you'll find, is the ONLY path
To free you from a world of grief.
Once you cut ties with skeptics, your
Zealous commitment will give you relief.
 
"People out there curse and belittle us.
That doesn’t faze us, for they don’t see
That we are right and they are lost.
It’s all so clear. Don’t you agree?
 
"The blessed teachings that we employ
Have nothing at all to do with guilt.
Instead, we call it 'forming your conscience.'
Obey and we’ll back you to the hilt.
 
"Fear is a focus for cults out there.
Their tactics frighten, coerce, and demean.
With us you will find safety and security--
At least if you can prove you've come clean.
 
"If your friends and family don't join you,
Don't worry: you've got family with us.
Forget the others; you don't need them.
Lamenting their loss is not worth the fuss.
 
"Imagine how much honor you'll have
Recruiting new members to join our community.
You'll jump at the chance to share your path
To salvation at every opportunity.
 
"Your total allegiance, of course, is expected.
We can't imagine you'd try to deceive us.
One thing we can guarantee:
You'll never--EVER--want to leave us."

- by Bob B

The sum of our experiences:
That's who we are.
Do our experiences guide us
To reach for that distant star?
 
Do they allow us to see
Through a person's façade?
Do they help us uncover
Dangerous deceit and fraud?
 
Do they take us to places
Of deep and profound thought
Outside our ego selves,
Where we're something we're not?
 
Or do our experiences hold us
In a superficial realm
Or on a ship of mindlessness
With ignorance at the helm?
 
Do they allow us to open
Both our minds and our hearts--
To discard superstition
And embrace what reason imparts?
 
Since we're made up of all
That we have seen and known,
How reassuring it is
To know we're not alone.

That reassurance
Should make us mindfully strive
To work for the good of all people
So that our planet can thrive.

- by Bob B

Pfmmmpf! went the door. The engine started;
The “Fasten Seat Belts” signs were lit.
My screen showed emergency instructions.
I thought to myself, “Well, this is it!”
 
The plane shook as it rolled down the runway.
I gulped and curiously looked around.
With white knuckles I clutched the armrest
As the plane lifted up off the ground.
 
Holding my breath as we ascended,
I glanced out the window, and what do you know:
Houses, streets, and cars grew smaller
In the ever-shrinking world down below.
 
I wondered, “Has my Xanax kicked in yet?
Will it hurt to have ONE glass of wine?”
The plane leveled off; the flight attendant
Smiled and said, “Honey, you’re doing fine.”
 
The screen on the back of the seat in front of me
Displayed a map of our cross-country route.
If I sat there and watched that screen,
I knew that I was going to freak out.
 
Sleep? Forget it. How is that possible
With all of the vibrating, bouncing, and roaring,
And lights going on and off and overhead
Cabinets clicking and people snoring?
 
No leg-room for stretching my legs:
The dreadful curse of economy class.
The constant shifting around in my seat
Was a literal pain in the ***.
 
I tried in vain to get some sleep
With my book lying in my lap.
I'd peek at the screen. We'd moved only
A millimeter across the map.
 
I felt like Sisyphus pushing his rock;
The night seemed to have no end.
Finally, to my great relief,
Our plane started to descend.
 
“Yay!” We landed and rolled to a stop.
On leaving the plane, I felt signs of fall.
Breathing in the fresh air, I thought,
“That wasn’t so bad after all.”
 
I'd passed the test with flying colors—
Sort of. At least I wasn’t too frantic.
And as it turned out my very next flight
Was going to take me across the Atlantic.

- by Bob B

Do you know SESQUIPEDALIAN words?
They’re words that are a “foot and a half long.”
But you must be careful when you say them
Or they’re likely to come out totally wrong.
 
Many long words are very manageable,
Like PARSIMONIOUS or PUSILLANIMOUS.
And you probably won’t trip over words
Like XENOPHOBIA or MAGNANIMOUS.
 
But there are words that are even longer—
Word that you’ll seldom find in use.
(Don’t use the words as a pick-up line, guys,
Or the ladies will think you have a ***** loose!)
 
To categorize something as worthless,
A certain word can cause a sensation:
Try, for example, the slick word FLOC-
CINAUCINIHILIPILIFICATION.°
 
Another word you could use is HIPPO-
POTOMONSTROSESQUIPEDALIAN.°°
It also pertains to very long words;
But if you use it, you’ll sound like an alien.
 
Wow! These words are rather long;
But longer words do exist.
I found the following German word,
And when I saw it, I couldn’t resist:
 
GRUNDSTÜCKSVERKEHRSGENEHMIGUNGS-
ZUSTÄNDIGKEITSÜBERTRAG­UNGSVERORDNUNG
 
Now THAT’s a long word if I’ve ever seen one!
I know people who’d have a hard time with it.
It’s SO long that I’d find it a challenge
To encounter a word that I could rhyme with it.
 
So SESQUIPEDALIAN words might be handy
To help you win “Jeopardy” or some other game.
But if you’re not careful to use them wisely,
Instead of praise, they might bring you shame.

 
°(FLAHK-si-NAW-si-NY-hil-i-PIL-i-fi-KAY-shun)
°°(HIP-uh-PAH-to­h-MAHN-stroh-SES-kwi-pi-DAY-lee-un)

- Bob B

Grade-schooler Tito loved going to school
To learn division and multiplication.
He tried to ignore the violence around him
But lived each day with trepidation.
He cut through an El Salvadorian town
To get to his school—a daily trek.
He constantly encountered violent street gangs—
Each frightful day a reality check.
One day Tito failed to come home.
The next morning grimly revealed
The poor school child’s dismembered body
Lying in an abandoned field.
 
Lucas and Marco feared for their lives,
In their small town in El Salvador,
Where violence governed their daily existence
As ruthless street gangs carried out their war.
When the boys’ mother was gunned down before them,
Fearing they’d be next, the brothers thenceforth
Left their home and their few belongings
And started on a long journey north.
Traveling hundreds of miles with no money
To leave a place of chaos and disorder
Would be a daunting task, along with
The added uncertainty at our country’s border.
 
The gangs in Honduras recruit young children.
In Guatemala they do so as well.
Some kids as young as eight or nine
Serve as drug runners from what we hear tell.
Two of the Central American gangs
That helped to create this horrible mess
Were not homegrown entities at all
But got their start HERE in the U.S.
How sad it is to see children suffer!
How helpless one feels in solving the matter!
But merely doing lip service with no action
Means nothing; it’s worthless. It’s just idle chatter.
 
Who are these children, fleeing their homes—
Fleeing the lands where violence reigns?
Who are these kids whom the world has let down—
Whose hope for escape is all that remains?

- by Bob B

Are you looking for a solution
To whatever aches and pains might ail you?
During a night of TV viewing
You'll find something that should not fail you.
 
Linzess might stop your belly pain
Or discomfort from your constipation.
(Just be sure to open a window
To provide some needed ventilation.)
 
Feeling nerve pain? Then try Lyrica--
Unless you suffer from arthritis.
If that's the case you need Humira.
But that won't help your laryngitis.
 
Some ads say Abilify
Will help you if you have depression.
But watch out if you start displaying
Bizarre, unexplained aggression.
 
If atrial fibrillation has you
Feeling somewhat out of sorts,
Maybe Eliquis will help you.
Be careful, though, when playing sports.
 
Feeling dry eye? There's Restasis.
Muscle ache? Then try Aleve.
But they won't help with COPD;
To think so would be so naïve.
 
For that you'll need some Symbicort.
But what if you have (gulp!) E-D?
Or B-P-H? Then there's Cialis;
But don't expect a guarantee.
 
For type 2 diabetes there is
Farxiga--just one a day.
But that does NOT mean you can hit
The pastry shop and eat away.
 
For if you do you'll need some Nexium--
Yes, that little purple pill--
For acid reflex isn't fun,
And Zantac might not fit the bill.
 
If menopausal hot flashes
Are totally driving you insane,
Brisdelle should give you relief,
But do not take it with champagne.
 
With all these drugs we can't go wrong.
For everything there is a cure
Or relief from pesky, nagging symptoms;
But read the label to be sure.
 
Because of the possible side effects
Of all the drugs that you might be taking,
Be sure that you have considered the risks
And done some careful decision-making.
 
Watch for rashes, swelling, blood clots,
Gas, nausea, lung infections,
Diarrhea, stomach pains,
Four-hour plus erections,
 
Heart failure, thoughts of suicide,
Impaired judgment, shortness of breath,
Change in moods, drop in blood pressure,
Loss of consciousness, coma, or death.

- by Bob B

Freedom of speech is a wonderful right--
A right that all Americans cherish.
It's a right that not all countries enjoy,
And one that we wouldn't want to see perish.
 
People have the right to express
Their opinion in public; yes, that is true.
One thing about it is when they speak out,
Their venomous ignorance often comes through.
 
Isn't there a saying about
Thinking before expressing a thought?
Many people ignore that advice;
What's more, those people ignore it a lot.
 
Publicly expressing rancor and bigotry
Might sound appropriate to those who feel
That they have the right to deny other people
Their rights, which they do with great zeal.
 
Extremist ideas and irrational thinking
Are surely part of the human condition.
People whose speech condemns other people
Are on a destructive, hateful mission.
 
A malicious message spoken in public--
A far-out attack or outlandish expression--
Allows us to see the foolishness in
The speaker's illogic and lack of discretion.
 
An astutely aware and compassionate public
Will let malice fall on deaf ears.
And those who employ such invective,
Instead of our anger, deserve our tears.
 
When we hear people spewing inanities
Powered by ignorance and hatred, we should
Consider the source and counter the poison
So it doesn't taint all that is good.

- by Bob B

People often think that I’m weird
Because I love to read
German grammar and usage texts.
Okay, I concede:
 
It’s not normal to read through
Such books from cover to cover;
But it’s not so strange when you are considered
A German language lover.
 
It also makes sense when one’s
A German language learner
To read a book most people consider
NOT a real page turner.
 
But German—Ach!—I love the language;
I love to speak it and hear it.
I love how it bounces off the tongue.
(It’s a shame that some won’t go near it.)
 
The language really tickles my ears;
To me it doesn’t sound snooty.
Because of its crispness and clarity, I
Appreciate its beauty.
 
Unlike the Italians, the Germans don’t
Talk with their hands.
They also don’t sound like drill sergeants
Shouting out commands.
 
And Germans, unlike speakers of English,
Don’t confuse “her” with “she”;
They also don’t have a problem knowing
When to use “I” or “me.”
 
The German language sounds fresh and vivid,
Vivacious, spirited, and zestful.
It’s not a language that lulls you to sleep
In a manner quiet and restful.
 
Listen to the great German poems
That go back many years
By Eichendorff, Goethe, and Heine.
Music to my ears!
 
Don’t forget that English is
A Germanic language. It’s true!
But now a lot of our words come from Latin
And other languages, too.
 
When I’m feeling down in the dumps,
Sad or a little morose,
All I need to perk me up
Is German in a large dose.
 
Beauty is in the eye of the viewer;
That idea holds sway.
It’s also in the ear of the listener.
What more can I say?

- by Bob B

Try to observe anger.
See how it arises.
Look at its components
And see what it comprises.
 
Does it contain the ego's
Selfishness and insecurity?
If so, a knee-**** response
Reflects our immaturity.
 
Watch it from different angles.
Observe its essential lack
Of substance or palpability;
Anger’s a tough nut to crack.
 
Look at it in the face.
Grasp it before it grasps you.
And yet, there’s nothing to grasp
When its true nature comes through.
 
It’s natural to witness anger
In varying amounts.
The key is what we do then:
The way we respond is what counts.
 
If anger’s converted to wisdom,
Then let that wisdom guide us
To act in compassionate ways—
To unite us and not divide us.

- by Bob B

Don’t worry, people;
So far it’s not a threat
To human beings; I mean,
It hasn’t attacked us YET.
 
You think that we have problems?
Ants have problems, too.
For us, bacteria and viruses
Seem to come out of the blue.
 
In Brazil a zombie ant fungus
Affects carpenter ants.
When the hosts are infected,
They climb up nearby plants,
 
Leaving their homes and colonies.
It’s hard to understand why,
But they clutch onto the leaves
And hang there waiting to die.
 
After their death a stalk
Grows from their body, and so
Spores from that fungus
Infect the ants down below.
 
The cycle then continues.
Don’t you wonder whether
The ants could figure it out?—
Put 2 and 2 together?
 
When ants are hanging from leaves,
The other ones shouldn't neglect them.
Their failure to address the matter
Will fatally affect them.
 
For all of us creatures on earth,
When everything seems A-OK,
Nature seems to manage
To throw a curve ball our way.
 
We have our own worries—
Both natural and man-made
Issues that we should confront,
And not ignore or evade.

- by Bob B

WHO are we really?
The person that we display
To others can’t be “real”—
We keep so much at bay.
 
Parent, sibling, relative,
Friend, acquaintance, foe—
Each relationship differs.
Do we ever completely let go?
 
Are you too guarded and cautious
To say what you believe?
Or do you speak your thoughts
And wear your heart on your sleeve?
 
Are you focused on you—
Whoever this “you” may be?
Are you truly aware of
The forest beyond the tree?
 
The incredible journey inward
Is a path that few people travel,
For once beyond the façade,
Self-concepts start to unravel.
 
Face the core of being—
Naked and alone—
And comprehend ideas
Previously unknown,
 
And come to the realization—
From whatever might befall—
That we are NOT alone,
But really one with all?
 
Our complex personalities
Are as varied as the books on our shelves.
How well do we know other people?
How well do we know ourselves?

- by Bob B

Why is it easy to put on the pounds
But so **** hard to lose?
It's always a breeze to pass on the peas,
But ice cream is hard to refuse.

Often we catch ourselves driving too fast;
Are we ever driving too slow?
Our brains are less like a Rafael
And more like a Vincent van Gogh.

Time plods along when we're waiting in line
But races when we're having fun.
As hard as we try to stick to a budget,
There's usually cost overrun!

Medical costs are so Brobdingnagian;
Why can't they be Lilliputian?
It's easy to make but tough to keep
A New Year's resolution.

Doesn't it also seem easy to sink
Yet hard to stay afloat?
Finding the exact words is a challenge;
It's a cinch to misquote.

Love--it seems--should be so simple.
Why is there so much hate?
Being early is usually good,
But sometimes you want to be late.

Life's little inconsistencies:
Always a daily test…
All we can do is go with the flow
And try to do our best.

- by Bob B

Our ego can be a dangerous thing.
Now “ego” here simply means
That sense of “I” that gets in our way.
I wonder: is it in our genes?
 
(I’m not referring to the ego discussed
By the famous Austrian, Sigmund Freud;
All of that psychological jargon
Is something I intend to avoid.)
 
The ego that I am talking about
Is the one that loves to believe
That the WHOLE world REVOLVES around it,
And won’t give but loves to receive.
 
It’s the same ego that feeds our impatience
When many people simply don’t see
That their actions reflect the attitude,
"Don't you know it’s all about ME?”
 
Our ego, too, can fan our temper
When unexpected incidents upset us,
And when things go wrong we think
That somebody is out to get us.
 
Our friend the ego—a bit insecure—
Has us believing in retribution,
And any affront to our character demands
That getting even's our only solution.
 
The poor ego is devastated
When it feels major rejection;
And men’s egos are completely destroyed
When they can’t get an *******.
 
If we can somehow let go of our ego
And  try to take life as it comes,
We’ll encounter much less stress
And end up chewing on fewer Tums.
 
Or we'll find that conquering our ego
Will provide the consolation
Of truly appreciating our lives
With much less medication.

- by Bob B

Languages constantly change.
English has, and how!
If not, we would still
Be saying "thee" and "thou."

Sometimes advertising
And the media create a shift
In the way we use certain words
That's annoying. Get my drift?

Businesses, for example,
Have a "free gift" for you.
You think, "A free gift--oh, boy!"
?I like getting gifts, too.

But think about it a moment:
Aren't gifts ALWAYS free?
So "Come in for your free gift"
Is a redundancy.

We hear that someone "went missing,"
Which to me sounds weird.
The expression sounds so clunky.
What's wrong with "disappeared"?

To say "to graduate high school"
Actually makes no sense.
(The number of people who say that
Has grown rather immense.)

Schools graduate students.
How hard does that sound?
We graduate from college--
Not the other way around.

And then there's "close proximity."
That's redundant because
"Proximity" itself means "closeness."
We should all know that it does.

So "close proximity" means
"Close closeness," though you might
Say, "That's what I meant."
I would respond, "Yeah, right."

Language changes aren't
Evil or reprehensible.
Grammarians just wonder why
The changes aren't more sensible.

- by Bob B

They sit on their comfy couches
In their stuffy suits and ties
Or their stylish sleeveless dresses,
Expounding pernicious lies.

Promoting "purposeful ignorance"
As well as "aggressive stupidity,"
They inadvertently show
Their frightful lack of lucidity.

Facts are unimportant.
(The same for credibility?)
Expert manipulators,
They manage with great facility

To lead a gullible public
Into their intricate maze
Of wildly spurious claims
And specious reporting malaise.

Carefully selected "experts"
Throw in their two cents
While fawning interviewers
Come to their defense.

Masters of hypnosis,
They put thinkers to sleep--
The ones caught in their spell
Are led around like sheep.

And they have the audacity
To refer to themselves as "news."
That must be part of their strategy--
Their well-crafted ruse.

Control the minds of the people
And you will secure great power
To sustain them with propaganda
Hour after hour after hour….

- by Bob B

When we last saw Noah,
He was about to embark
On a long, stormy journey
Aboard his mighty ark.

For forty days and nights
The heavens constantly drained
Their waters upon the earth,
For it rained and rained and rained--

Covering the towering Mt. Everest,
And the great Kilimanjaro.
Noah exclaimed, "It's raining
Like there's no tomorrow!"

Ham and Shem said, "Dad,
With our small, measly crew,
Feeding one million species
Is kind of hard to do."

Noah pointed outside
And looked at his sons and said,
"I suppose instead of in HERE,
You'd rather be out there--dead!"

That shut up the boys
Who attended to their tasks,
Saying, "We're feeding the lions
In case anyone asks."

Shem whispered to Ham,
"I like that lion, but she
Is always licking her chops
Whenever SHE sees ME!"

Ham said, "That kangaroo,
Who looks so calm and mellow,
Has a nasty kick.
He's not a very nice fellow."

After many days,
The waters receded; then Yay!
They were back on dry land;
All could go their own way.

The Bengal tigers went east;
The penguins headed south;
The skunks and beavers went west--
According to word of mouth.

Noah grabbed an animal
For a sacrifice quick and succinct,
And turned to his sons saying, "Oops!
I JUST made one species extinct."

Ham, Shem, and Japheth,
Had little time for mirth,
For now it was up to them
To repopulate the earth.

Growing grapes for wine
To Noah was time well spent,
Until he got drunk and naked--
All sprawled out in his tent.

Walking in on his father,
Ham saw a sight not so splendid
And ended up with a *** deal--
(Silly pun intended)--

For Noah cursed poor Ham
For having walked in on him.
So what if a guy saw him naked;
Hadn't he been to a gym?

Actually, the curse
Was more on Canaan, Ham's son.
How had poor Canaan managed
To be the guilty one?

I guess that's the nature of curses;
They don't always make much sense.
There also wasn't a lawyer
To come to Canaan's defense.

To live to be 950
Requires a very strong ticker.
But Noah had a weakness:
Trouble holding his liquor.

- by Bob B

*Sequel to "Noah's Dilemma"

Hold on tight! Weather the storm!
Don't let troubles disempower you.
Keep your focus. Stay the course.
Beware of sharks that try to devour you.

Let not the torrents of tempestuous talk
Affect your ability to maintain control.
Don't be driven off course by winds
Of hatred. Keep your eyes on the goal.

Be not distracted by waves of abuse
That brutally beat against your bow
And threaten to end your inspired journey
With powerful force upon your prow.

Ride the waves--the ups, the downs,
The forwards, the backs, the lefts, the rights.
Let your inner strength and stamina
Navigate you through starless nights.

Do not crash into fellow ships
Also caught in the stormy sea.
Watch out for damaging attacks and assaults
Surrounding you in the floating debris.

Beware of pirates; they're out there waiting
To stalk and steal, damage and destroy.
Protect yourself to further protect
The needs of the struggling hoi polloi.

Storms will come and storms will go;
Maintain vigilant command of your ship.
The ocean is a capricious host;
There's NO guarantee of a storm-free trip.

Therefore, be sure to hold on tight!
Though nights are dark and days are gray,
And though your ship is tossed at sea,
Safe harbor is not far away.

- by Bob B

Galileo Galilei--
Physicist, mathematician,
Astronomer, philosopher--
You angered the Roman Inquisition
 
And later the Pope and Jesuits as well.
Your scientific observation
That the earth moves around the sun
Was deemed a heretical revelation!
 
Spreading ideas "contrary to scripture"--
A risky endeavor and path to take--
Guaranteed life imprisonment
Or a gruesome burning at the stake.
 
Under pressure you recanted:
"The earth doesn't move around the sun."
They say that under your breath you muttered,
"And yet it moves." You lost, yet won.
 
Though you lived under house arrest
For years until the day you died,
Your scientific contributions
To benefit mankind cannot be denied.
 
It's sad when dogma and ignorance attempt
To force dissenters into compliance.
It's sadder yet that in this century
Too many people still ignore science.
 
Our thoughts aren't shaped from cookie cutters;
Beliefs don't all fit the same mold.
Praise to the thinkers who soar to great heights
And break authority's stranglehold.
 
Praise to those who dare to defy
Petrified positions or views--
Who challenge our mind-set and open our eyes
To truth and awareness, despite jeers and boos.

- by Bob B

"Obstructionism...obstructionism:
It has to be my favorite -ism.
So what if we have a schism.
Three cheers for obstructionism!
 
"Who cares if it’s wrong or right?
The important thing is fight, fight, fight.
I don’t care what others say;
But I'll be ****** if they get their way!
 
"You have your cause, I have mine;
But still I have to draw the line:
I don’t believe in compromise—
That’s a word that I despise.
 
"My constituents voted for me.
I am sure they’ll all agree
That I’m the one who knows the best
When any issue is addressed.
 
"So we shut the government down.
There’s a jewel in the crown:
Knowing you can always guide
The folks to blame the other side.
 
"I know there’s a golden rule,
But let me tell you: I’m no fool.
It does not apply to you
When YOU'VE got wealth and status, too.
 
"I let lobbyists speak their mind
And with their cause I’ll be aligned.
(That depends on the amount
That ends up in my bank account.)
 
"How I love to filibuster
With ALL the effort I can muster!
Also, stalling—it’s worth noting—
Is good for keeping us from voting.
 
"It’s political suicide
To let yourself forget to hide
Your real feelings on a matter
And not to indulge in senseless chatter.
 
"Please don’t think we are inept.
Actually, we’re quite adept
At killing proposals one by one
(And getting very little done).
 
"Obstructionism...obstructionism--
The next best thing to favoritism.
We have an ideological schism,
So three cheers for obstructionism!"

- by Bob B

Merle and June needed a break
From their Midwestern town.
Inundated with sales and receipts,
Both were starting to drown.
 
After years without a vacation,
June found an ideal
Vacation spot at a mountain resort,
And the price was a steal.
 
Ah, finally, to be one with nature!
To sit on their behinds!
To escape the intolerable prairie heat!
To put work out of their minds!
 
During their drive, Merle said, "Dear,
This trip should calm your nerves."
He couldn't see the fear in June's face
As he sped 'round the mountain curves.
 
Once they were settled in their cabin,
June's calm turned out to be brief.
Staring out the window she shrieked
"What?" in disbelief.
 
"Merle," she said, "On the path out there…
I tell you, I could have sworn
I saw a man and woman walk by
As naked as the day they were born!"
 
Grabbing her glasses to read the brochure,
June had to squint
To see that it stated "nudist camp"
In very, very small print.
 
More **** couples sauntered by
With body parts a-dangling.
"Bite the bullet," she said to poor
Merle whose nerves were jangling.
 
"Lock up all of our clothes in our safe
So no one can purloin 'em.
It states right here: No Refund, so
If you CAN'T beat 'em, join 'em."
 
So au naturel Merle and June
Enjoyed the fresh mountain air.
Then Merle got a mosquito bite
On his…well…you know…down there.
 
They started to feel a bit more relaxed
After sitting and sipping
On a few cold drinks. Suddenly, they realized:
They'd never gone skinny dipping.
 
Merle learned in the cool mountain lake
That he was a quick reactor:
Walking back to the shore he complained,
"Blasted shrinkage factor!"
 
Walking around unclad was fine--
With that they had no disputes.
But dining felt a little bit strange
In their birthday suits.
 
Swimming, golfing, hiking, riding,
And sunbathing were all fun,
But they burned parts of their bodies that
Had never seen the sun.
 
Burning his *** wasn't part of the plan,
Merle had to admit.
For three whole days it curtailed activities
Because he couldn't sit.
 
After two weeks of mosquito bites
And sunburned rumps they set
Off on their journey home from a trip
The two would never forget.
 
So, what lessons did they learn?
Being a nature lover
Is fine and dandy, but next time they'll do it
With some sort of cover.
 
And to feel the wind blow on them
Could put their mind at ease;
But they also learned that parts of the body
Don’t need to feel a breeze.

- by Bob B

Akkosaka Bhāradvāja--
The brahmin--found the Buddha one day
And railed against him, throwing harsh words
And abusive insults the Teacher's way.

The Buddha calmly said, "Dear brahmin,
Answer, please, my question to you:
You are a guest and your hosts offer food;
If you don't want it, what do you do?"

"I don't accept it," the brahmin answered.
"In that case to whom does the food belong?
To the hosts, no?" asked the Buddha.
"Tell me: am I right or wrong?"

"The offered food belongs to the hosts,
Of course," responded the brahmin surveying
With curiosity each word that
The great Master was wisely saying.

The Buddha said, "Likewise, if you do not
Accept the insults of those who blast you,
Their unwanted "gifts" stay with them,
While you are unscathed; you put it all past you."?

The brahmin, moved by the Buddha's words,
Reflected on the meaning and sought
Deeper understanding and wisdom
From all the lessons the Teacher taught.

If others try to hurt you with words,
Give their nasty comments short shrift
By staying unruffled, unperturbed--
By resolutely refusing their "gift."

- by Bob B

Most of us know the tale of Cinderella,
But do you know the original German story?
It’s different from the version that I grew up with.
It’s called “Aschenputtel,” and it’s gory.
 
Cinderella’s stepmom and two stepsisters
Are nasty, ornery, bossy, ******, and mean.
They’re very good at belittling Cinderella;
And the sisters vie for the role of future queen.
 
Cinderella wants to attend a ball,
But her stepmom gives her some difficult tasks, and so
When some birds help the girl complete them,
The woman STILL refuses to let her go.
 
Here no fairy godmother comes to help.
Cinderella goes to the grave of her mother
Where she'd planted a branch that grew to a tree,
Which miraculously gives her a gown like no other.
 
When Cinderella goes to the King’s fancy ball,
She makes a tremendous impression on the prince.
Of course, no one’s able to recognize her,
And the competition makes the stepsisters wince.
 
For two nights in a row the same thing happens.
Cinderella must be in excellent shape,
For each night the prince attempts to pursue her,
Yet each night she makes a clean escape.
 
On the THIRD night he has a bright idea:
“Aha!” he says. “Someone, bring me some tar.
If I spread goop all over the steps of the palace,
That gorgeous sneak won’t manage to get very far.”
 
(Here you have to suspend even more belief.)
As Cinderella hurries to flee from her beaux,
She leaves behind one slipper in the tar.
(WHY more slippers aren’t stuck there, I do not know.)
 
On finding the slipper, the prince yells, “Piece of cake!
Now I’ll find the owner of this dainty shoe.”
When he arrives at the home of the nasty stepsisters,
The poor guy bites off more than he can chew.
 
The first sister chops off her obtrusive big toe
So that her foot can fit inside the slipper.
You see, the slipper’s not made of the kind of material
That stretches, and, of course, it has no zipper.
 
The prince starts to leave with his bride-to-be
But notices that her slipper is filled with blood.
“I don’t think that this is my future wife,”
He says and nips that nightmare in the bud.
 
In order to make her foot fit in the slipper,
The second stepsister cuts off part of her heel.
Imagine how much blood gushes forth from that.
Shaking his head, the prince says, “This is unreal.”
 
Finally, Cinderella takes her turn.
And what do you know? The slipper’s a perfect fit!
The prince—eager to exit that crazy scene—
Takes Cinderella and leaves lickety split.
 
(I hope the prince kept his wits about him.
You’d think he would, for he’s a thoughtful fella.
Certainly, he washed out all the blood
Before giving the slipper to Cinderella!)
 
Early on I told you about some birds
That helped Cinderella when she was down and out
By completing her tasks and delivering her gown and slippers.
They knew what the stepsisters were all about.
 
Well, the stepsisters come on the day of the wedding,
To mooch off Cinderella—as you can surmise.
As they amble along with the wedding couple,
The birds fly down and peck out both of their eyes.
 
Such is the fate of the mean and bossy stepsisters,
Who were deceitful and cruel, as you recall.
Call it karma, their just deserts, or comeuppance,
But let it be a lesson for us all.

- by Bob B

Everything hangs by a tenuous thread.
Don't be vain or unrealistic.
Such is existence: it comes and goes.
That's being honest and NOT pessimistic.

Abandon a false sense of security.
Throw off thoughts of invincibility.
Does knowing that things are beyond your control
Dare to threaten your fragile tranquility?

Fiery summers can parch the earth;
We are vulnerable in bitter cold winters.
Although our home seems strong and solid,
A tornado can leave our "fortress" in splinters.

Rising waters inundate the land.
When that happens, we grow less smug.
As hard as we try to control nature's flooding,
We can't simply pull a bathtub plug.

Our firm foundation seems indestructible;
Efforts to make us safe are painstaking.
Nevertheless, notice how helpless
All of us are when the ground starts shaking.

Timeless time is tightly tied
Inextricably to being.
Such interconnectedness
Ought to be consoling and freeing.

What about resilience? you ask.
Life has a resilient bent
That helps us deal with challenges
And face what we can't circumvent.

You know the saying, the old cliché:
Here today; gone tomorrow.
Our attitude will determine whether
Our life is full of happiness or sorrow.

Live each moment, love others,
Learn constantly, and plan ahead.
Just remember that ultimately,
Everything hangs by a tenuous thread.

- by Bob B

"I read it on the Internet
So it must be true.
There it was in black and white,
With colored photos, too.

"Question what I read? Why?
That's customary?
It was on the Internet!
That's not necessary.

"No, the writer doesn't matter.
What credibility?
The article was written with
Impeccable facility.

"Of course it confirms what I think.
Thus, it was worth reading.
Words to the contrary
Wouldn't be worth heeding.

"Did it open up my mind?
Please, don't make me laugh.
'Open minds are dangerous!'
Should be my epitaph.

"A challenge? Ah, who needs that.
I would rather be
Nestled in my notions
And my complacency."

- by Bob B

Last night I saw my mom and dad.
We had a lovely chat.
Laughing, joking, carrying on...
We’re always good at that.
 
Dad, without his oxygen tank,
Had no trouble walking.
He spoke of books and politics
And had no trouble talking.
 
Mom dashed about her kitchen
Busily preparing
Some delectable treat to serve.
(I even heard her swearing.)
 
Such visits happen now and then.
Sometimes it even seems
As though they’re real and not occurring
ONLY in my DREAMS.
 
Why Mom and Dad are in a dream,
I don’t have a clue.
But I love to see them; it's
The best that I can do.
 
It’s hard to believe that eighteen years
Ago they passed away.
It’s strange; it almost seems as though
It happened yesterday.
 
Healthy, strong, invincible,
Robust, and never sad,
Philosophizing, loving, caring—
That’s how I see Dad.
 
No less loving, but more pensive
And never brash or gushy,
Mom expresses love through actions.
She’s kind, but never mushy.
 
These dreamy reunions I will cherish
Until my memory fades;
Or until life decides
It's time to pull the shades.

- by Bob B

Where does your chicken come from—
The chicken you find on your plate?
It’s probably in a slaughterhouse
Where the bird meets its fate.
From clamps holding its feet,
It hangs upside down with the others—
Not the kind of ending
They'd choose if they had their druthers.
They’re dragged through a cold salty bath
To stun them and keep them from thrashing;
A cutter then slashes their throats
With its deadly, silvery blades flashing.
If that were the end, they'd be lucky;
But most of their hearts are still pumping.
For ninety more seconds they’ll hang.
Can you hear the hearts thumping?
Dead or alive they are dumped
Into pools of scalding water
Where the ones that are still alive
Will flop and scream from this slaughter.
After the torture is over
All of the bodies are slated
To be gutted, plucked, and whatever....
They’ve basically been desecrated.
 
Other methods used—
And I admit I don’t know ‘em—
To butcher our feathered friends are
Beyond the scope of this poem.
But regarding this slaughterhouse massacre,
There’s one more thing I maintain:
The conditions before this bloodbath,
Are also not very humane.
The chickens are squeezed into cages
In conditions sometimes unfit.
How would you like to stand
Up to your ankles in s--t?
What about free-range poultry?
Be careful: you might see
That despite the nice-sounding concept,
It’s not what it’s cracked up to be.
And then there’s the farmyard chicken
That the farmer’s so gleefully fed,
Which is unaware
That its master will chop off its head.
I’m not trying to scare you
Or be indiscreet,
But we must all be cognizant
Of where we are getting our meat.
 
I could inform you about
What happens to a cow,
Or lamb or pig; however,
I'll spare you that for now.

- by Bob B

They say the path to liberation
Leads through valleys of utter despair
And over peaks of glorious wonder.
If you risk the journey, beware.
 
Our thoughts don't always reflect reality;
To us an idea that clearly seems
So real and permanent is really ephemeral
And creatively sculpted from notions and dreams.
  
Our thoughts can tantalize or torment us,
Depending on our state of mind
Or how attached we are to ideas
And concepts that we've proudly enshrined.
 
That which lasts--that which endures--
Remains utterly beyond our ken.
If we are lucky, flashes of awareness
Illuminate us now and then.
 
Are our questions superficial,
Or do they sink beneath our skin
To penetrate our bones and marrow
And deeply resonate therein?
 
Gratitude flows from every pore
As we glide along on a goalless goal.
An inner calm pervades our being
When we release the illusion of control.
 
We catch a glimpse of truly knowing.
Clouds of doubt that blocked the light
Shift, and we are bathed in the radiance
Of something inconceivably bright.
 
Part of us dies, but something's reborn.
We see through illusions, passions, and lies.
Divested of our strong attachments,
We see the world through different eyes.
 
The path we've sought is under our feet;
There's nothing mysterious--nothing arcane.
We lose our selves and find ourselves,
And we find that there's nothing we need to attain.

- by Bob B

Why do you walk so softly?
Why are you afraid?
Why do you speak in a whisper?
Why do you stay in the shade?

Why do you hide your feelings?
Why do you stand alone?
Why do you sing only solo?
Why do you fear the unknown?
 
Why are you defensive?
Why do you cover your ears?
Why do you close your mind?
Why do you stifle your tears?
 
Walk with honor and dignity.
Limit your fears to none.
Speak out loudly and clearly.
Enjoy the warmth of the sun.
 
Don’t be afraid to feel.
Stand with others in force.
Harmonize with others.
Let hope guide your course.
 
Be open and confident.
Hear the world’s cries.
See from different perspectives.
Blocking your tears is unwise.
 
COURAGE, my fellow seeker.
Be GENEROUS, but above all,
TRUST in your inner guidance.
TOGETHER we’ll stand tall.

- by Bob B

So MARY loved a little lamb—
Especially on her plate.
But watch out, Mary: too much lamb
Can make you overweight.
 
HUMPTY DUMPTY sat on the wall.
Learn from his mistake.
If you are not mindful, you
Could also fall and break.
 
A TISKET, a TASKET,
Forget about a basket.
Do what you are told
Or your folks will blow a gasket!
 
JACK SPRAT could eat no fat.
Too much fat could **** him.
But mounds of veggies on his plate
Certainly don't thrill him.
If MRS. SPRAT could eat no lean
And just the fatty parts,
Wasn’t her cholesterol level
Jumping off the charts?
 
MISTRESS MARY, quite contrary,
Brags about her garden,
Which, she adds, is quite unique.
****! Oops, beg your pardon.
Are silver bells and cockle shells
Much to brag about?
I guess they are more practical
When there is a drought.
 
JACK B. NIMBLE was pretty slick,
Although he was a nut.
Don’t play around with candlesticks,
Or you could burn your ****.
 
EENY MEENY MINY MOE...
Invest your money and watch it grow.
It’s good to save and not to owe,
EENY MEENY MINY MOE...
 
GEORGIE PORGIE made the girls cry
Every time he kissed ‘em.
They didn’t like that chauvinist
And the way he dissed ‘em.
 
Did JACK AND JILL go up the hill
Really to get water?
What kind of H2O
Would make him swerve and totter?
 
If these days PETER put his wife
In a pumpkin shell,
He'd never hear the end of it;
Boy, she’d give him hell!

- by Bob B