A lot can happen in a week,
Let alone in one whole year.
Many dreams can be shattered;
Many rights can disappear.

Things can all be topsy-turvy.
Foundations of democracy
Can crumble from the constant blows
Of madness and hypocrisy.

In a flash a nation whose
Ideals helped it achieve its dreams
Can lose the threads that held it together
And start to fall apart at the seams.

In an instant, something that we
Took for granted--freedom for all--
Can grieve over its final performance
As it waits for its curtain call.

In a short period of time,
Progress made in human rights
Can find itself desperately
Groping through the darkest of nights.

In a matter of days, a small
Group of people driven by greed,
Thirst for power, and grotesque views
Can choke a nation with frightening speed.

But ALSO in a matter of days,
More people can open their eyes
And read between the lines and see
Scores of manipulating lies.

In this same period of time,
People can dig in their heels and say,
"Together we stand; we refuse
To let our rights be taken away."

- by Bob B (1-29-17)

Once there was a president,
Cold and heartless, who set about
Finding ways to make his country
Great by keeping migrants out.

"We'll place soldiers along our southern
Border," said the nation's boss.
"That way we can easily stop
Migrants from making their way across.

"And if the migrants become unruly,
The soldiers can shoot them, one by one."
Advisers turned to the president
And said, "No, sir, that can't be done."

"Then let the soldiers shoot the migrants
Low, low, in the ankles or thighs.
We will see the unwelcome
Migrants start to drop like flies."

Advisers looked at their boss and said,
"Sir, that's also out of the question."
The president, getting angry now,
Said, "Then here's another suggestion:

"We will build a moat along
Our border wall and fill that moat
With alligators and venomous snakes."
That idea made him gloat.

"And then we'll add spikes to the wall--
Spikes that can penetrate human flesh.
Find me the cost for all of this,
Or else we'll have to start afresh."

Suddenly, he said, "I know:
We'll just change asylum laws
And separate the families.
That should give the migrants pause."

Hard, hard the administration
Worked together to find a plan,
Using words like "riff-raff," "invaders,"
"Dangerous threats," and "caravan."

The whole world watched in horror,
Lamenting how democracy fails
When an unfit elected leader
Goes completely off the rails.

-by Bob B (10-4-19)

You don’t have to wave your country’s flag;
Nor do you have to boast and brag
That yours is the best country on earth—
Whether or not it’s the land of your birth—
To be a patriot.

There’s no need to brandish your weapons to show
That you have your rights that you’ll never forgo;
Nor do you have to copy the ones
Who feel the need for an arsenal of guns
To be a patriot.

You don’t have to heed everything you are told,
Fear seeking truths that your leaders withhold,
Or forget that in your laws there’s a reason
That public dissent’s not the same thing as treason
To be a patriot.

You don’t have to feel that the government is right
To force young men and women to fight
In wars that profit the War Machine--
And which you in your heart know are obscene--
To be a patriot.

There’s no need to always bewail and prate
On the separation of church and state
Or let the troublemakers upset you
By saying the government’s out to get you
To prove you’re a patriot.

But caring about the poor and the needy;
Wanting to have, without being greedy;
Feeling concern for the rights of ALL;
And helping others up when they fall:
That's being a patriot!

- by Bob B

Sing out, nation of IMMIGRANTS!
Sing your glorious song
Of how this country was built—
Of what made this nation strong.
 
Sing about all the challenges
And hardships our ancestors found
When trying to build their lives
And get their feet on the ground.
 
Sing of the PERSECUTION
That drove them out of fear
To abandon their native homelands
And often haunted them here.
 
Sing of the Native Americans—
Of the proud and varied nations—
Displaced from their territories,
And forced into reservations.
 
Sing of our fellow Americans
Originally brought here by force;
Let the melody echo
Kindness and REMORSE.
 
Sing of the jobless, the homeless,
Whose families suffered the bane
Of a harsh, cruel existence
And here sought relief from their pain.
 
Sing of the countless refugees
Who fled from war-torn places,
Hoping to live in PEACE
In a land of welcoming embraces.
 
Sing of the life of the immigrant
Who faced prejudice and jeers—
Whose struggles for rights and acceptance
Sometimes lasted for years.
 
Sing of the factory workers
Who worked under hellish conditions—
Whose voices were long unheard
By the deaf ears of politicians.
 
Sing of the plight of the miners
Who extracted the underground coal—
Of the dangers that they encountered
As they worked in that dark, dusty hole.
 
Sing of the laborers from Asia,
Who helped lay our tracks—that’s a fact—
And to whom we showed our thanks
With the Chinese Exclusion Act.
 
Think of the German, Norwegian...
All farmers who tilled the soil
To feed a nation that took
For granted their sweat and toil.
 
Sing of those working in fields,
Because of whose work you are able
To place with minimum effort
Fresh strawberries on your table.
 
Sing about all of the workers—
Such as the ones that you
Hire to do the work
That you refuse to do.
 
Sing of the great DIVERSITY
That people brought to this land,
Lest we forget who we are
And how to understand.
 
Sing of our immigrant nation
Before our memories fade
And we lose our self-identity,
And our actions become a charade.
 
Sing of the "huddled masses
Yearning to breathe free,”
And may others expect
KINDNESS from you and from me!
 
Sing of our generous nature
And let us try to fashion
A nation full of heart,
Built on love and compassion.

- by Bob B

I can't wait till once again
We have a president who's sane;
Whose meaningless words "No collusion!"
Don't become a daily refrain;

Who cares about people and country
More than profits and dividends;
Who places trust in allies and doesn't
Treat our adversaries as friends;

Whose charitable foundation isn't
Merely a personal slush fund or scam;
Whose kids aren't part of shady deals;
Whose spouse really gives a ****;

Who has integrity and doesn't
Give hateful fringe groups praise;
Whose job applicants don't need
The word "crook" on their résumés;

Who wins elections honestly
And doesn't rely on outside assistance;
For whom the use of lies and deceit
Is NOT the path of least resistance;

Who wants border security but doesn't
Constantly harp on a senseless wall;
Whose behavior is much, much more
Refined and LESS Neanderthal;

Who truly believes in democracy
And fully supports the rule of law;
Who doesn't expose ignorant views
In daily tweets of blah, blah, blah;

Who, when putting words together,
Could prove to be more prolific;
Whose daily repertoire has more
Adjectives than "great" and "terrific";

Whose team is not constantly
Involved in ethics violations;
Who in his first years of office isn't
In seventeen investigations.

Sooner or later, things will change.
But judging from every indicator,
It's suddenly starting to look as though
Relief might come sooner than later.

-by Bob B (12-19-18)

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 elves congregated
In the back room of the shop,
Muttering amongst themselves
And chattering on nonstop.

One elf stood on a table
And scanned the angry crowd.
He raised his hand to shush
The others from getting too loud.

"Fellow elves, be quiet.
We have work to do;
This isn't just a trivial
Elven ballyhoo.

"Santa's expectations
Have risen exceedingly.
He takes no action when
I ask him pleadingly

"For a raise in pay
And better working conditions.
He only chortles and laughs
And speaks of old traditions."

An elf spoke up from the group:
"The reindeer have it made.
We work our butts off;
But see how little we're paid.

"Why they earn so much
Isn't really clear
When they only work
ONE night of the year!

"Platitudes and promises
Do nothing to assuage
Angry workers. Santa
Must increase our wage!"

"Yes," chimed in another.
"Not keeping up with inflation,
Our pay keeps us living
In serious deprivation.

"Our benefits also haven't
Kept up with the times.
They are slashed while
The cost of insurance climbs.

"I know we've a lot to do,
And I think we're pretty meticulous,
But the hours we're forced to work…
I mean…this is ridiculous!

"And what about part-time elves
Who have little enjoyment
Working for no benefits?
You call that employment?"

Disgruntled, all the workers
Considered taking action
And wondered what to do
To get some satisfaction.

Another elf said, "Santa's
Heavy demands are an onus.
And we elves don't even
Get a Christmas bonus!

"Frankly, it takes every
Ounce of faith I can muster
To think that dear ol' Santa's
Not a union buster!

"Furthermore, there's something
That I've got to say:
We all have to strive
For equality of pay."

"Yay!" the elves shouted
And in unison chanted:
"Equal pay: Yes!
Take nothing for granted!"

The work discussion lingered
Well into the night.
They knew that gaining ground
Would require a fight.

(In thinking about life,
Struggles, work, and fairness,
It doesn't hurt anyone
To have some elf-awareness.)

Eavesdropping here,
You've seen for yourself
That life's not always peachy--
Even for an elf.

Let's just hope that Santa
Doesn't be a ****
And save a few bucks next year
By outsourcing the work.

- by Bob B

When humankind is out of control,
The world suffers a giant loss.
Threats of mass extinctions aren't
Difficult to come across.

More than half of the world's primates
Are on the verge of extinction due
To agriculture, logging, mining,
And hunting. Where's the hullabaloo?

Lemurs, chimps, orangutans,
And lowland gorillas are under threat.
When we endanger others, we also
Endanger ourselves, don't forget.

Habitat loss, climate change,
Wildlife trade…. Scientists fear
That if these are not halted, many
Primates will sadly disappear.

We're talking about numerous species--
A couple hundred, not just dozens.
What is wrong with **** sapiens?
How could we do that to our cousins?

-by Bob B (2-6-17)

When life's going well and our health is good,
We've got the drive and means to go far,
And we seem to have the world by the tail,
Do we appreciate how lucky we are?
 
My thoughts are on a particular person:
Brittany Maynard--a daughter, a wife--
Young, vivacious, compassionate, caring,
Full of dreams, at the prime of her life,
 
Until she found she had brain cancer--
Glioblastoma--an aggressive assault--
Which turned Brittany's life upside down
And brought her dreams to a sudden halt.
 
Given six more months to live,
She pondered her options and moved to a state
Where she could decide to die with dignity
Before it ended up being too late.
 
Terminally ill Oregon residents
Who are mentally competent can make use
Of the Death with Dignity Act of Oregon.
Established safeguards prevent its abuse.
 
Verbal, cognitive, and motor loss,
Possible morphine-resistant pain,
Major changes in personality,
Paralyzing seizures--hard to contain--
 
Were what Brittany had to look forward to.
Such an existence, so grim and so bleak,
Was not what she wanted her family to experience:
Her constant suffering, week after week.
 
In her last months, Brittany had traveled.
She'd shared her feelings; for example, she'd say
It's important to do what's important to us.
In other words, we should seize the day.
 
To her family in November 2014
Brittany said her final good-byes
And peacefully went on the final journey--
The one that transcends both the earth and the skies.
 
I wouldn't wait around for a miracle
If I had to deal with what Brittany went through:
Inoperable brain cancer!
I'd hightail it to Oregon, too.

- by Bob B

Did you happen to notice
That last year Santa's sleigh
Was missing an important
Figure, by the way?

Let's see: Comet and *****
Along with Cupid and Prancer
Were there, and so were Donner,
Dasher, Blitzen, and Dancer.

Which reindeer was missing?
Rudolph? Ah, you guessed it.
The news was out there, but
The media had suppressed it.

(Because of frequent fog,
Santa was being sensible
In counting on dear Rudolph,
Who had become indispensable.)

It all started like this:
On the morning of Christmas Eve,
Rudolph was tired from having
Been on the qui vive

For sneaky present robbers
All the previous night.
By noon, poor ol' Rudolph
Looked a sorry sight.

To perk himself up a bit--
The "where" is still unclear--
He dipped into a little
Too much Christmas "cheer."

Now I don't know about you,
But Rudolph's nose would flicker
Whenever he drank wine
Or any other liquor.

When the team of reindeer
Lined up, Santa could tell
That sleigh-guiding Rudolph
Wasn't doing so well.

Needless to say, Santa
Really got a whiff
When he approached his friend
And took a little sniff.

"I can tell, dear Rudolph,
That you've been making merry.
Did you turn your eggnog
Into a Tom and Jerry?"

"I think--hiccup!--a little,"
Said Rudolph with a blush.
"Go to bed," said Santa.
"We are in a rush."

That night Santa was forced--
Although he felt remorseful--
To use toys with lights
To guide him. How resourceful!

So last year if the batteries
To your toys were run down,
Causing disappointment
And many a tear and frown,

Don't feel so sad.
They went to a good cause:
They helped to distribute
Gifts from Santa Claus.

Regarding this year, I
Don't want to keep you guessin':
Rudolph's back in service.
I think he learned his lesson.

But some say Santa's considering--
Despite objections and moans--
Future gift deliveries
With the use of Amazon's drones.

- by Bob B

This is the tale of a girl
Only seven years old
Who came here from Guatemala.
Let her story be told.

Jakelin Caal Maquin
Came here with her dad
With hopes of seeking asylum,
Before everything went bad.

People seeking refuge
Are dangerously exposed
To inhumane conditions
When ports of entry are closed.

Through the desert they wandered
With others of the same mind
Seeking a place of safety
And leaving danger behind.

At least that's what they hoped for.
They hadn't had a clue
That cruelty existed
Here in America, too.

When they turned themselves in,
It's said that father and daughter
For several wearisome days
Hadn't had food or water.

The child started having
Seizures, the records show--
A nightmare for the father
Who suffered this tale of woe.

Possible dehydration,--
Doctors later expressed--
Shock and exhaustion led
To cardiac arrest.

A hospital in El Paso
Was where she took her last breath.
A new life was their goal;
What they encountered was death.

The head of the DHS--
Nielsen--places the blame
All on Jakelin's father.
The woman has no shame.

The callous disrespect
Of international law
Regarding asylum seekers
Reveals her major flaw.

Must we blame the victims?
We must ask ourselves why
There aren't better solutions
So more children won't die.

Sorry, Jakelin.
We must apologize
For our officials who thrive
On heartlessness and lies.

-by Bob B (12-15-18)

What happened in Georgetown stays in Georgetown.
Judge Kavanaugh, that's what you said.
But maybe that's  not always the case,
For now you see that stories spread.

If you are the goody two shoes
That Republicans say you are,
Prove to us that you have what
It takes to be their shining star.

Gang rapes? Drunken parties?
Serious charges for a youth.
What happened there behind closed doors?
We just want to know the truth.

Survivors are merely asking for further
FBI investigations
To get to the bottom of all of this.
These are serious accusations.

One thing that they have done
Or at least say that they will do
Is take a lie detector test.
Maybe YOU should take one, too.

"This poor man's life is being ruined."
That is what your fans are saying.
They ignore how others' lives
Have been affected. That's dismaying.

Look at the hollow hypocrisy
Of members of Congress who turn their backs
On women who have struggled to
Survive violent ****** attacks.

Some say that the Democrats
Are experts at how to lie and cheat.
But we've seen that Republicans
In Congress are masters of deceit.

Holding back pertinent
Information is not the best
Way to show that a nominee
Makes the grade--passes the test.

Judge Scalia's position was kept
Open for over 400 days!
Now they want to rush to judgment,
Ramming you through with no delays!

A thorough study's important, but
Republicans don't give a ****.
The confirmation process here
Has turned into a real sham.

-by Bob B (9-25-18)

(Can be sung to the melody of Frank Sinatra's "My Way")

For TWO years now I've been
The mighty leader of this nation,
But I can't stand it when
I don’t receive great adoration.

Believe me when I say
My way's the ALWAYS-best-to-lie way.
And you can do it too
By doing things my way.

Mueller is going strong.
I am sick of his **** query.
But they've all got it wrong.
They can't prove their stupid theory.

My fans KNOW my style is NOT
A JUST-lay-down-and-die way.
I have gotten by
By doing things my way.

My tryst with Stormy and my fling
With that McDougal woman bring
So much grief into my life,
Especially with my wife.
But, nonetheless, I will confess
I love things my way.

And now I want my wall;
If I don't get it some will suffer.
I will shut things down
Just to show I'm not a bluffer.

You can dupe the world
With simply the "M" "Y" way.
So I will not deny
I love things MY way.

I've had to fire more than a few
'Cause they say things that are untrue.
And my toadies on the Hill
All bow down; they know the drill.
They know the ways to get my praise:
Just do things my way.

Yes, do things my way.

-by Bob B (1-16-19)


2017 and 2018 VERSIONS:

DOING THINGS MY WAY (1):
(THE INAUGURATION SONG)

(Can be sung to the melody of Frank Sinatra's "My Way")

And so, I'm standing here
To say an oath and pledge allegiance.
Though some will cry and jeer
And accuse me of malfeasance,

The fact that I can stand
Before you now in a tough-guy way
Proves that you can play it through
By doing things my way.

Yes, I've stiffed a few,
But that's my disposition.
That's what you have to do
To carry forth your mission.

I knew what I was doing;
I was acting in a sly way.
Just do what I tell you
And do things my way.

You might not like the things I say
Or what I do, but that's okay.
Celebs like me all have it made.
Just don't drop the masquerade.
It's all the same; just play the game
And do things my way.

I've had three wives. So what!
I've had just two divorces.
The news? Don't watch that ****.
I have found better sources.

I didn't get this far
By choosing the just-get-by way.
Since life is dog eat dog
Just do things my way.

You'll always find someone to cheat.
Remember: don't admit defeat.
There's nothing wrong with being rude.
At times be crass; at times be lewd.
Make up the rules; treat them like fools
By doing things my way.

Yes, do things my way.

(1-19-17) By Bob B


DOING THINGS MY WAY (2)
(SEVENTEEN MONTHS AFTER THE INAUGURATION)

(Can be sung to the melody of Frank Sinatra's "My Way")

Despite all that you hear,
I'm doing great; I'm number one now.
My made-up "truths" endear
Me to my base; we're having fun now.

My ranting and my raving
Show that mine's not the small fry way.
You'll win…you'll win much more
By doing things my way.

I wish the FBI
Would stop investigating.
They know too much. That's why
It is all so aggravating.

I never liked a wuss
Who would take the humble pie way.
No, I am much more ruthless
Doing things my way.

I've told some lies, once in a while…
Well, every day, but that's my style.
My Congress *****, have got my back.
At the right time we'll attack.
I plot and scheme for my regime
By doing things my way.

Putin's my friend, oh,
And Kim Jong Un and I are buddies.
Merkel and Trudeau?
My goodness, they're such fuddy-duddies.

All I have to do
Is just display my evil eye way,
And I'll get what I want
'Cause it is my way.

I am the law; that's plain to see.
And very few are smart like me.
I will say what comes to mind,
And I don't care if it's unkind.
A little greed helps you succeed
When doing things my way.

Yes, do things my way.

-by Bob B (6-26-18)

"It's an attack--an attack on our country,"
The president said. "It's a disgrace."
It's still amazing how he can say
The things he does and keep a straight face.

The Mueller probe's an attack on our country?
An attack on all we stand for? Say what?
Maybe if Trump had been honest and forthright
He wouldn't find himself in a rut.

What DO we stand for? Rule of law,
Search warrants, magistrates…
Where no one's above the law, not even
The president of the United States.

The president's idols--Putin, Duterte,
And Erdoğan--would never permit
Investigations into their own acts.
To strongmen it would NOT be legit.

To Trump a legal pursuit to find
Answers is a ruthless attack.
Yet Russia assaults our democratic
System, and Putin's a crackerjack!

Poor Trump just doesn't get it.
Whenever he talks, he more or less
Rubs salt in his very own wounds
And finds himself in a bigger mess.

-by Bob B (4-11-18)

I saw Peter Cottontail.
I swear I did. It was he!
He was in a bar last night,
And he WASN'T drinking tea!

Sitting next to him, I said,
"Hey, ol' Pete, ol' buddy, ol' guy---
You've got time to take a break?
How so? Please, tell me why."

"Cut me some slack," the poor guy said.
"Humans have a nasty habit
Of placing incredible expectations
On this weary, forlorn rabbit.

"Hiding billions of eggs, come on!
I'm not omnipotent, as you must know.
This task has been ****** upon me
Since a long time ago.

"What's more, I find it rather disgusting
And NOT in any manner funny
When I see a kid chomping
On a chocolate Easter bunny.

"Furthermore, to pass on baby
Rabbits as an Easter present
Is NOT from MY point of view
A practice I'd call very pleasant.

"And as to candy resembling chicks,
To me it seems so surreptitious
When you're saying, 'Oh, how cute!'
But really thinking, 'How delicious!'

"I think it's time to pass the baton
To  another generous benefactor.
I don't care who it is;
Find a willing, starving actor.

"I suggest an Easter squirrel,
An Easter bear, or Easter goose.
With so much on my plate there's no
Time to even reproduce."

I left poor Peter there at the bar
As he switched to drinking brandy.
I hope that he is able at least
To pass out all of his eggs and candy.

-by Bob B

Bill O'Reilly got the boot!
Fox News has said good-by--
A place where reputable commentators
Are already in short supply.

He faces too many allegations
Of ****** harassment. But, oh dear!
What a mess he's made of things
Now in his Fox News career!

Being a brute and a hypocrite
For Bill O'Reilly was NOT hard to handle.
Funny, but he was an outspoken critic
During the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal.

Peddler of white nationalistic
Ideas, O'Reilly does have his fans.
He'll find a job with someone who
Peddles theories as bizarre as that man's.

His sudden departure from the station
Doesn't really affect us directly.
But why doesn't a person like him
Behave more circumspectly?

I guess when your mentor is Roger Ailes,
You have the power to do as you wish--
To regard EACH female employee
Or guest as merely a **** dish.

- by Bob B (4-21-17)

Trump is upset about what he calls
Fake news being spread--
News which has the soon-to-be
President seeing red.

An unverified dossier
Claims that Russia has power over him.
Fake news or not, it still appears
That Trump's memory is growing dim.

For years he peddled a birther myth!
So, Mr. Trump, please let us put
A question to you: How does it feel
To have the shoe on the other foot?

- by Bob B (1-11-17)

At five a.m. the doors swing open.
The throng of shoppers lined up at the store
Pushes and shoves and jabs and elbows
Its aggressive way through the wide-open door.
 
Once inside, the crowd scatters
This way, that way, in chaotic motion.
The store clerks gasp, feeling like islands
Surrounded by a raging ocean.
 
"Oh, no you don’t!" one woman shouts
At another woman clutching a box
Containing the last flat-screen TV.
"Hands off; it's mine!" the other one squawks.
 
A mad tug-o'-war ensues
As the two women grapple to claim what's theirs.
An onlooker who is knocked down in the skirmish
Shrieks, "What a sorry state of affairs!"
 
Everywhere you look, items are flying.
The store resembles the scene of a battle,
OR, perhaps, a giant herd
Of loud, thundering, angry cattle.
 
A man stops to pick up a bottle
Of perfume that he dropped--a gift for his wife--
And is trampled by the surge of shoppers.
The poor guy nearly loses his life.
 
One bold shopper with her canister of pepper spray
Threatens to douse the belligerent crowd
Until she is tackled by security guards
And is escorted away, cursing out loud.
 
Announcements blare from the loudspeakers:
"Shoppers' special on aisle three."
Suddenly, the rivers of shoppers change course
As the curious hope to get something free.
 
In the background, Christmas carols playing
The hopeful messages of joy and peace
Are drowned out by the ear-piercing din
That sounds like the honking of thousands of geese.
 
"I want my mommy," a whiny child cries.
"What do you want for Christmas: a dolly?"
Asks Santa, losing his last bit of patience
And doing his best to try to act jolly.
 
The chaos never ceases to wane
As the shoppers vie for the best shopping deals.
One man rushing to grab the last smart phone
Slips and falls head over heels
 
And slides into an obese grandma,
Sending her sprawling into some shelves
Of decorations, which all go flying.
The injured lie covered with reindeer and elves.
 
Interminable lines at the registers await
The exhausted shoppers. You get closer; hurrah!
The woman in front of you then needs a price check!
No, that can't be! That's the last straw!
 
Another day of Black Friday madness.
Would that it could be over! But no.
You've barely started; that's store number one.
You have four more stores to go!

- by Bob B

A year ago at the North Pole
Santa STILL had a sign
That read "For Sale," posted on
His slushy, sludgy property line.

We stopped by to pay a visit
And found Santa out of sorts.
He asked if we perchance had read
Recent global warming reports.

"Things are looking worse than ever,"
He said, on the verge of crying.
"The ice caps continue to melt,
And the world's coral reefs are dying.

"We'll be seeing flooding coastlines,
Food shortages, wildfires….
And some even have the nerve
To call the prognosticators liars!

"People ask if it's too late.
I tell them that it depends
We can stop the warming, BUT
We MUST reverse emissions trends.

"If the earth's temperature rises
Two point seven degrees, they write,
Above pre-industrial levels--
That's degrees in Fahrenheit--

"We'll face dire consequences:
Mass extinctions of animals and plants,
Wobbly countries, refugees….
These are NOT just foolish rants!

"The world economy must be transformed.
Come on! You have to use your head!
Renewable sources of energy
Are vital; otherwise, we're dead."

How sad it was to see a man
Who once had been so cheerful and jolly
Now become so sad and so
Demoralized by human folly!

He showed us his dilapidated
House, and then with a sigh,
He said, "I've got work to do,"
At which point we all said good-bye.

-by Bob B (11-24-18)

If you think we're headed in
The wrong direction and wish to restore
Your trust in the country because you don't
Recognize it anymore,
Vote.

If you think our current "leader"
Has ruined the country and defiled
The office of the presidency
And acts like a spoiled child,
Vote.

If truth and facts are meaningful
And you find it mystifying
How so many people can
Defend a president's constant lying,
Vote.

If you believe in the urgency
Of choosing a person to be the one
Who could undo the damage that
The current president has done,
Vote.

If you're tired of the status quo
And want to see someone defeat
A paranoid narcissist
Who spreads his poison tweet by tweet,
Vote.

If you fear a dismal future,
To save this nation, you have a choice:
As if your life depends on it,
Let your ballot be your voice.
Vote.

-by Bob B (10-26-20)

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"

All of the mice gathered together
To discuss a problem, and no doubt it
Demanded their thoughtful, immediate attention;
They had to do something about it.

The cat, they agreed, was ruining their lives:
"No longer do we have free rein in this house."
"Our lives are miserable since the cat's
Become a threat to every mouse."

"Gone are the days when we could stealthily
Steal from the owners and plunder their food."
"Our spirits were high; our lives were easy.
The cat has seriously dampened our mood."

"I miss the days when we had the freedom
To chew and nibble and gnaw at will."
"We could come and go as we pleased.
But now--no more. This makes me ill."

The mice seemed to be at a loss
As to how to fix the situation.
"I know what we can do," said one.
The others listened in desperation.

"The cat so quietly sneaks around
On muffled paws, so what the heck?
The solution is simple: Let's just put
A warning bell around the cat's neck."

The mice all cheered in unison until
An old sage raised his hand.
"I like your enthusiasm;
Your idea sounds really grand."

He paused for a moment, and then he continued:
"But I have a question for you, and that
Is WHO from among this noble crowd
Is going to secure the bell to the cat?"

Not one mouse had an answer.
"Ah. That's what I thought you'd say:
Nothing!" said the wise old mouse
As he turned around and hobbled away.

So what's the moral of the story?
That should be plain for all to see.
Who are the mice, and who is the cat?
Think about it, and you tell me.

- by Bob B

The president loves to carry on
About his gut and how it guides him.
How can anybody believe
A word of all of his nonsense besides him?

His gut encourages him to lie
And do it while he keeps a straight face.
It helps him create far-fetched stories
To dupe and galvanize his base.

His gut is great at seeking out
The shiftiest autocrats around,
So he can make America
His autocratic proving ground.

It's also very good at distracting
The country from what is REALLY going on--
At how to attract his servile lackeys
While he plays the role of the don.

It helps him to be great at knowing
How to pander to various groups
Such as evangelicals
Who kiss his you-know-what. Oops!

His gut tells him that scientists
Are full of baloney when they proclaim
That global warming is a threat
And humankind is largely to blame.

His gut says illegal voting
Is rampant. Doesn't he find it odd
That experts have found no proof at all
Of widespread voter fraud?

His gut says he hires the best people.
That makes him SO excited.
But how many have left their jobs?
How many have been indicted?

His gut said that he could pay money
To silence affairs and get away with it.
Did his gut let him know
Whether his wife would be okay with it?

His gut tells him that as the leader
He can do what he desires,
Which must include collusion, obstruction
Of justice, and calling dissenters liars.

Yes, I agree: gut feeling
Can be useful at times, BUT
Why can't the president
Start using reason and NOT his gut?

-by Bob B (11-30-18)

Promise to nominate a judge
Who will reverse previous decisions.
Relish the opportunity
To fan the flames of people's divisions.

Refuse to provide the senators
With all of the documents that they need
To allow for careful, researched judgment.
Your nominee will be guaranteed.

Be sure the person you nominate
Will have your back if things get hairy.
Agreeing that you're above the law
Is absolutely necessary.

Let ideology be
The key factor for stacking the Court.
Your starry-eyed supporters will
Give you their undying support.

Train your nominee to behave
Just like you when at a hearing.
Your base will consequently find
The person even more endearing.

If any dirt might come up,
Limit the background investigation
To make it essentially a sham.
And lie without reservation.

Persuade Republicans in Congress
To sycophantly do your bidding.
You scratch their backs; they'll scratch yours.
Works like a charm. I'm not kidding!

Belittle dissenters. People who don't
Support you, you humiliate.
Stick to this plan, for that's how you
Are going to make this country great.

-by Bob B (10-5-18)

Lucita clearly wasn't a beauty.
Her grade school features were unrefined,
Awkward, plain, unattractive….
(I'm trying not to be unkind.)

Her classmates loved--as many kids do--
To find people's faults and then make fun of them.
Lucita's classmates tormented her;
I know because I was one of them.

I didn't say mean things about her,
Tease her or call her a horrible name.
My silence, however, made me complicit;
Because of my silence, I shared their shame.

How often are we silent when
We see injustice right before us?
Do we fear becoming involved
Or hope that the "evil" will ignore us?

History shows what happens to people
When others stay silent and don't speak out.
Only by standing up to injustice
Can real change come about.

Lucita didn't stay long at the school.
I think her family moved away.
I'm sure the kids found someone else
To taunt, belittle, pester, and flay.

I hope that for Lucita a happy,
Fulfilling life has been her reward;
I hope the once gawky duckling
Opened her beautiful wings and soared.

- by Bob B

The Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey
Circus will close its doors in May.                                
The Greatest Show on Earth has lost
Its flashy allure of yesterday.

The death-defying acrobats
Will have to seek other employment.
Exotic animal acts no longer
Are a source of great enjoyment.

The circus will fold up its tent for good.
But don't be sad; do not frown.
On January 20
A new circus is coming to town.

- by Bob B (1-16-17)

Through different eyes we see the world.
I see the poor, struggling alone,
Limited by their circumstances,
Held back through no fault of their own.

You, however, are convinced
That laziness is the cause of their plight.
Denying your privileged life, you see
The situation as black and white.

I see climate change as a threat,
Affecting us now, but mainly hereafter.
Considering the whole matter a hoax,
You respond with derisive laughter.

I see people in desperate need
Of medical care that they can afford--
Care that's not a privilege but
A right leaving no one ignored.

You, too, believe in health care
But not as a right that people deserve.
With you it seems as though the idea
Of helping others strikes a nerve.

I acknowledge the importance of
Necessary regulations.
You see the government having
Too much control over corporations.

I see the need for high standards
For clean water and clean air.
To you such regulations are
Burdensome and also unfair.

People who make large amounts
Of money can therefore afford to pay
Higher taxes than the poor.
To me it just makes sense that way.

You are more concerned that the wealthy
Keep more of their money, which
Is a common refrain that we hear
Coming from the lips of the rich.

America's diversity
To me is beautiful, and yet
To you it seems as though our great
Diversity is a threat.

I want to strengthen our public schools.
When saying that, I see your hostility.
You want to strengthen the private ones
With little or no accountability.

Another giant issue that comes
From seeing the world through different eyes
Is the notion that what I call facts
Are to you nothing but lies.

It's not a matter of good or bad;
It's just a matter of point of view.
Based on all our experiences,
We see the world the way we do.

- by Bob B (2-5-17)

One day Skunk said to Fox,
“Boy, do you ever reek!
I have to tell you, Foxie:
You smell worse than last week.”
 
Fox replied to Skunk,
“Hey, you’re one to talk.
I can smell you coming
From way around the block.”
 
Skunk said, “Okay, let’s ask
Ms. Flower since she’s so discreet.”
Said Fox, “Yuck, why her?
She smells so sickeningly sweet.”
 
So Fox suggested Pelican.
“Well,” said Skunk, “if you wish.
But don’t forget that he always
Smells like rotten fish.”
 
They tried and tried for hours
To agree on who could best judge
Which of the two smelled the worse.
Finally, Fox cried out, “Fudge!”
 
Then Fox went on his way,
Wandering back to his den.
“Don’t YOU smell good!” said the Missis;
She even said it again.
 
Skunk hurried on home,
Where he knew his mother would be.
“Mom, do I smell bad?”
She answered, “Not to me.”
 
A moral of this story
Is all about point of view:
Let others be who they are,
And enjoy just being you.
 
Take with a grain of salt,
What others say or think;
And never let it upset you
If they say that you stink!

- by Bob B

I enjoy a good band with its
Drums and fine guitars,
A keyboard and a couple of singers
At concerts, clubs, and bars.
A mellow band with harmonizing
Voices is a treat—
Not a loud rambunctious one
That blasts me out of my seat.
An exciting band can really send me—
That I will concede.
But an acoustic guitar, a pleasant voice,
And a song are all I need.
 
Take me to a symphony;
That can be exciting.
Beethoven, Brahms, and Mozart
All can be inviting.
Chamber music with a string quartet
Can often do the trick;
A grand concerto that gives me goose bumps
Has a definite kick.
Big band, pop, or classical
Music are fine indeed;
But an acoustic guitar, a pleasant voice,
And a song are all I need.
 
Opera can be scintillating
If you like the score.
A giant chorus or a plaintive aria
Makes your spirits soar.
Mozart, Wagner, Puccini, Verdi
Massenet and the rest
Make me realize that I am
Listening to the best.
But as much as I like opera
When it's up to speed,
An acoustic guitar, a pleasant voice,
And a song are all I need.
 
I like music from all around
The world as a rule.
Both modern and traditional
Sounds to me are cool.
German, Japanese, Norwegian,
Mexican, and Chinese
Music makes me feel good;
It puts my mind at ease.
But as much as I like all music,
One thing's guaranteed:
An acoustic guitar, a pleasant voice,
And a song are all I need.
 
- by Bob B

Defrauding the public isn't hard
When you're one of the Trumps.
The president is especially good
At duping his loyal chumps.

So, after Trump fired James Comey,
He fired AG Sessions.
Those two firings were just a part
Of the president's indiscretions.

Next came Matthew Whitaker--
A Donald Trump lackey--
As acting AG, and whose background
Was--let's say--a bit tacky.

Now AG Barr is there
To willingly play his part
And show how he and Trump are both
Connected heart to heart.

Barr's recent appointment has
Very clearly shown
That the president has managed
To get his Roy Cohn.

Keeping Congress from seeing the full
Mueller report, Barr
Acts LESS like a fair AG
And MORE like a czar.

Flouting the rule of law, Trump
And Barr, political hacks,
Can end up doing a lot of damage
Behind Americans' backs.

Now Barr has mentioned the word
"Spying." It never fails
That Trump's appointees tend to go
Completely off the rails.

Making Trump a victim only
Satisfies his base.
Trump and Barr don't care whether
Their actions are a disgrace.

Now the tinfoil-hat group can say
"All the acrimony
Toward Trump is a nasty plot."
What a bunch of baloney!

Our leadership has never been
So chaotic. Never!
Elections, they say, have consequences.
Boy do they ever!

-by Bob B (4-11-19)

Growing up in Torrance—
A suburb of L.A.—
Billy was a SoCal
Dreamer all the way.
He loved sunny beaches
And smooth mountain slopes.
A day without the sunshine
Would always dash his hopes.
Not the greatest student,
He wasn’t good with books.
Luckily, he quickly learned
To get by on his looks.
 
He never went to college;
School was not his style.
Modeling, he thought,
Might be more worthwhile.
Sure, he was good-looking
And knew he could excel.
But like many others,
He didn’t do so well.
Deciding on a path
Requiring looks and charm,
He felt that entertaining ladies
Couldn't cause much harm.
 
(Chorus)
The king of the ******* circuit—
The lord of the nightclub scene—
In New York and California
And places in between
Will walk into a room
And all the people’s eyes
Look in his direction—
Both the ladies’ and the guys’.
Although he’s buff and handsome,
He tends to put on airs.
Despite the six-pack down below,
There’s not a lot upstairs.
 
Being a male stripper
Could get mighty old.
Removing all those clothes,
Doesn’t one get cold?
But Billy loved his lifestyle
And took it on the road.
He even tried “escorting”
Whenever business slowed.
All across the country
You’d hear the ladies scream.
When Billy walked out on the stage,
You could feel the steam.
 
Pumping iron by day
And stripping after dark
To Billy was exciting—
A walk in the park.
It must take some talent
To strip before the lights.
But his knock-out body
Helped him reach the heights.
You wonder, Was he happy?
It’s really hard to tell.
All we know is that for years
He raised a lot of hell.
 
So what does Billy do now?
Ask at clubs and bars.
Some say he sells insurance;
Others say used cars.
Someone said she saw him
Last month near Chapel Hill,
Sitting on a bar stool
At a bar and grill,
Sweet-talkin’ the ladies
And trying to hold fast
To all the vivid memories
Of his glorious past.
 
(Chorus)
The king of the ******* circuit—
The lord of the nightclub scene—
In New York and California
And places in between
Will walk into a room
And all the people’s eyes
Look in his direction—
Both the ladies’ and the guys’.
Although he’s buff and handsome,
He tends to put on airs.
Despite the six-pack down below,
There’s not a lot upstairs.

- by Bob B

Pandora lifted the lid from her box
And boy! ALL hell broke loose.
You want to put the "evils" back?
You can try, but it's no use.

(It wasn't a box but really a jar,
Many translators maintain.
Box, jar…call it whatever.
The story's key points remain.)

Hephaestus had followed Zeus' orders
And made Pandora from the earth.
The first of the race of women was she,
The story goes--for what it's worth.

Sickness, strife, toil, killing…
In short the ills of humankind
Escaped and now we're stuck with them.
For any evil that comes to mind--

Countless ways to destroy the earth,
Ways to ****, ways to maim,
Terrorist bombs, torture, and plunder--
Dear Pandora takes the blame.

(She shares similarities
With Eve of Biblical fame, but whether
There were connections, that would be
Another story altogether.)

If someone said, "See this box?
Don't open it, whatever you do."
Or gave the command, "Don't eat this fruit!"
Wouldn't you be curious, too?

In letting out the world's evils
Pandora was pushing the envelope.
The one thing that she left in the box
Was a little glimmer of hope.

Maybe that hope stays in the box--
Out of our touch. That's a suggestion.
Or if it were released, could it
Conquer evil? That's a good question.

Couldn't Pandora see that this
Was JUST a setup? Well, she should have.
But if SHE hadn't lifted the lid,
Somebody else certainly would have.

- by Bob B (6-6-17)

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
Tears stain your fearful face."
"The country where I was born and raised
Is now a frightening, deadly place."

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
Tell me why your tears don't cease."
"The journey north is hard, yet we
Yearn to live in a land of peace."

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
Have you lost faith in your caravan?"
"The president says that we are a threat;
He says that we're the bogeyman."

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
Because you’re hungry and have no shoes?"
"We've come seeking asylum, yet we
Are now hearing discouraging news."

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
What is it that gives you pause?"
"We would like to be heard, but now
The president is changing the laws."

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
Do you fear the guard, or sentry?"
"They won't let us plead our case;
They're even blocking the ports of entry."

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
Why the chaos? Why the disorder?"
"Authorities see our desperation;
They've shot tear gas over the border."

"Why are you crying, mother of two?
You are running and out of breath."
"My future may be uncertain here,
But one thing I know: home means death."

-by Bob B (11-27-18)

The government shutdown drags on and on.
The president remains fixated
On building his wall on the southern border--
His arguments all fabricated.

His speech--sounding like Stephen Miller--
Interrupted prime-time TV.
In efforts to shore up his base and win
More support, he made his plea.

A litany of Stephen Miller
Scare stories does not move
An audience who's on to their tactics--
Who sees what they're trying to prove--

That we have a humanitarian
Crisis here. No mistaking.
However, the crisis happens to be
A crisis of the president's making!

Using false statistics, the president
Tried to establish his flimsy case.
The con artist hoped to convince
Others beyond his regular base.

Once he said that he would be
Responsible for the shutdown, but that's
Immaterial now, for he
Is blaming the "evil" Democrats.

The Democrats are all for border
Security, to Trump's surprise.
But he is so obsessed with his "wall,"
That he can't see beyond his lies.

To hold the government hostage has been
Trump's tactic to get his way.
What we've seen in the past few weeks
Is a childish tantrum on display.

Hopefully, more people of conscience
Will cut and run from the president's side--
Tired of manufactured crises,
And tired of being taken for a ride.

-by Bob B (1-9-19)

The clues have been…let's say,
Preponderant. We've seen
That Trump's reputation
Is far from squeaky clean.

Now he sounds indignant:
"How dare they imply
That I worked with Russia!
Do THEY think I'm a spy?"

Is there evidence
That Trump and certain staff,
Knowingly or not,
Worked on Russia's behalf?

Knowing or not knowing…
Yes, even the latter
Definitely is
A counterintelligence matter.

The FBI will discover
Whether suspicions are true
While Trump sends out a tweetstorm.
Of course, what else is new?

Is he an asset to Russia
At our country's expense?
The accusation really
Makes a lot of sense.

His words and actions are
Often injudicious,
Which makes him sound so utterly
And blatantly suspicious.

Mueller certainly knows
A lot more than we think.
He will put together
The pieces, link by link.

Team Trump will spread
Deep state myths to steer
Us off the path to truth.
They smear whom they can smear.

They will try to hide
The truth without a doubt.
Cooperation with Russia
Is what it’s all about.

Misstating the law,
Giuliani tries
To give Trump his support
By backing the president’s lies.

Trump’s words leave us
With so much to bemoan.
Who knows WHAT goes on
When Putin and he are alone?

He's been parroting Putin's
Talking points. How's that?
Is he a spokesman for
The Russian autocrat?

Undeniably, Trump
Finds himself in a spot,
Which amounts to a case
Of possible kompromat.

Never have we had
A situation so…hairy.
Never have we had
A president so scary.

-by Bob B (1-13-19)

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

As you sit at your table on Thanksgiving Day
Voraciously gorging yourself on your feast,
Remember those who are suffering
In a proxy war in the Middle East.

The poor Yemenis have died by the thousands.
Many are on the brink of starvation.
Fourteen million, some people say,
Experience serious deprivation.

Blockades limit badly needed
Medical supplies and food.
It's a humanitarian crisis
Of unspeakable magnitude.

Warring ideologies place
Innocent people in between.
Yes, people are still committing
Atrocities in twenty eighteen!

A hospital hit by Saudi bombs…
A school bus blown to bits…
How many more will die before
Responsible parties call it quits?

Cholera is pervasive, and drugs
Cannot get to the people who need them.
Babies are dying because their mothers
Cannot produce the milk to feed them.

As of now our president
Would rather keep an open door
To weapons sales to Saudis instead
Of trying to stop the ghastly war.

Don't just send your thoughts to Yemen;
Let your thoughts turn into actions,
Lest your sincere hopes for peace
End up being worthless abstractions.

-by Bob B (11-22-18)

Saber Rattling doesn't cut it
In this day and age.
Mindless ranting intensifies
A dangerous pressure gauge.

Threats, idle or otherwise,
Prove not strength but weakness
For those who think diplomacy
Epitomizes meekness.

They say that there is strength in numbers,
But that's not always true.
When numbers mask insecurity,
The real face shows through.

Credibility indicates
An inner strength and power.
Brute force and ignorance
Ultimately sour.

Praise to those who seek the truth
Before the world shatters.
Woe to us if we lose sight
Of what really matters.

- by Bob B (6-21-17)

Mr. Miller was our neighbor,
And what a mean, grumpy old man!
At least that's what we kids thought.
Whenever we saw him, we all ran.
He seemed to have an uncanny sense
Of knowing when we were in his yard.
Some of the feisty neighborhood kids
Tried to catch the grump off guard.

At Halloween the Miller house
Was one I always tried to avoid
Until one night my friend said, "Let's visit
The Millers." I wasn't overjoyed.
Mr. Miller opened the door
And--wow!--he wasn't wearing a frown.
He and his wife were warm and friendly
And they had the BEST candy in town!

It's odd how suddenly a person can change
To a kind neighbor from a mean old ****.
But amazingly the transformation
Was not in him, it was in my heart.
Soon after that Halloween he died
From a heart attack; that left us in shock.
I'll never forget kind Mr. Miller--
The "Boo Radley" on our block.

How often we judge before we know!
How often we live in fears we create!
Once our eyes are opened, how glorious!
But when that happens, it's often too late.

- 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

Listen intently now, if you will,
To the sorrowful story of Emmett Till--
A black fourteen-year-old lad
Who hadn't done what they said he had

In August of 1955.
It's possible he could still be alive
If only he…if only…well,
Listen to what I have to tell.

Caught in one of those circumstances
Of having made ****** advances,
Till, whose actions were taken for granted--
Note: his accuser later recanted--

Was brutally tortured, lynched, and shot.
His body was left in the river to rot
Not very far from Glendora, Miss.
How shocking to hear stories like this!

Two white men, in a great hurry,
Were later acquitted by an all-white jury.
Such incidents are a wound indeed
On the soul of America. Watch it bleed!

In 2007 a sign was erected
At the site of the ******, but someone objected,
And suddenly the sign disappeared,
Just as many people had feared.

A second sign replaced number one,
But thugs seeking perverse fun
Destroyed the sign with bullets, and so
Sign number two had to go.

Officials did what they had to do,
And sign number three replaced number two.
Within a few weeks, it, too, was marred
With bullet holes leaving it scarred.

The bullet-riddled sign demonstrates
There's work left to do in all fifty states.
Prejudice and hatred are blinding;
The road to justice is long and winding.

-by Bob B (8-21-18)

Oh, how the emperor loves his new clothes!
He loves the flash, the glitz, the show.
The presentation is all that matters--
The garish, ostentatious tableau.

His lackeys and sycophants grovel before him,
Currying favor and kissing his…****.
Loving all the attention, he can't
Distinguish between substance and farce.

The emperor has the best people--
The best tailors, the best spinners--
Who say that the ruler's fancy new clothes
Can separate losers from winners.

Fawning subjects praise their leader.
Mesmerized by his tales,
The people fail to see the danger
When facts are ignored and fiction prevails.

Whether from pride, thirst for power,
Or ego, the emperor--walking on air--
Doesn't see that underneath
The pageantry there's nothing there.

Who can break the news to the emperor?
Who can put an end to the lies?
What will bring about true awareness?
What will it take to open his eyes?

- by Bob B (2-13-17)

Let's say a foreign government
Butcher's a U.S. resident
In Istanbul, Turkey, while
You're the U.S. president.

What's more important to you
Is making more money down the line
By maintaining business ties
That NOT even ****** can undermine.

If greed is your primary motive,
You'll justify your point of view
By asking yourself the following question:
What would the current president do?

Let's say certain autocrats
Make dissenters disappear.
You're entranced by how the despots
Maintain their power that you hold dear.

If power is your primary motive,
You'll justify your point of view
By asking yourself the following question:
What would the current president do?

If people desperate for asylum
Come to your border seeking relief,
And you want to show the heartlessness
Of a xenophobic commander in chief,

Then show them that your heartlessness
Can justify your point of view
By asking yourself the following question:
What would the current president do?

If you want to stop an investigation
That possibly looks bad for you,
You can obstruct justice by asking,
What would the current president do?

If you think your unscrupulousness
Allows you to break every taboo,
You've learned a lot from asking yourself,
What would the current president do?

-by Bob B (11-21-18)

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

As she danced before Herod and Herodias,
Salome waved her flowing veil,
Which fluttered and whirled through the air around her
And rippled like a silken sail.

"Ah, your daughter dances divinely,"
Said Herod to his calculating wife.
"She dances as though she's walking on air.
I've never seen so much grace in my life."

After a frenzied flurry and flash,
Salome stopped and bowed to the king.
"My dear," said Herod, "what may I give you?
Half of my kingdom? Anything!

"Tell me what your heart is set on.
I'll give you whatever you desire."
Salome looked at her mother, who
Smiled and nodded--her eyes on fire.

"Your incomparable kindness compels me
To answer simply to a king so great.
I ask for one thing only and that
Is John the Baptist's head on a plate."

Said; done. The executioner
Soon returned carrying John's head,
Which Salome gave to her bloodthirsty mother,
Who was delighted that he was dead.

What about those who keep on dancing
Salome's dance? They pivot and swirl,
Contemplating how to placate
The wishes of others while they twirl?

Do they conspire to perpetrate
Division and discord--not unity and peace?
Have love and kindness and thoughtfulness
Given way to heartless caprice?

Are they moved by seductive wiles
As if compassion does not matter?
Do they seek above all things
Vengeance on a silver platter?

- by Bob B

Halloween was always one of my
Favorite nights of the year,
Although the waiting was torturous
As the date drew near.

What to wear? was always the question.
Not rich enough to be trendy,
We put together makeshift costumes,
And Dad would always pretend he

Didn't have enough money
To spend on fancy treats.
"Besides," he said, "my theory
Is basically sweets are sweets."

We didn't have Darth Vader back then;
Kids were pirates and cats,
Skeletons, hobos, cowboys and Indians,
Devils, witches, and bats.

Mummies, scarecrows, fairies, clowns--
Whatever we could devise.
Many kids were simply ghosts
In sheets with holes for eyes.

Ah, the treats: chocolate coins,
Cookies, Milky Ways,
Popcorn *****, candy corn,
Necco Wafers for days,

Abba-Zabas, Tootsie Rolls,
Bubble gum cigars,
Licorice, Candy cigarettes,
And Snickers candy bars.

We got Double Bubble in packs,
Taffy, Cup-O-Gold,
Milk Duds, Jujifruits--
A mountain of treats all told.

The experts had TWO costumes
And made the rounds twice,
As if one giant bag of candy
Was never going to suffice.

Back at home we'd pour out our candy,
And then the bartering started.
Since I had two older brothers,
I was usually outsmarted.

Mom and Dad let us monitor
Our own candy stash,
And we survived the candy feast
Without a sugar crash.

Until I was fourteen years of age,
I'd never had a cavity,
Despite living in Candyland
In utter sugar depravity.

But I can still eat candy now
And not go trick-or-treating,
Though, granted, there are more nutritious
Foods that I should be eating.

- by Bob B

C. B. was a son of a B!
Did anybody really like him?
Most of the people he encountered
Usually found more reasons to strike him.

In school the kids called him a bully.
Bully he was, and bully he did.
He derived inordinate pleasure
Tormenting any vulnerable kid.

His schoolyard behavior was no better
Than his disruptive behavior in class.
In fact, most teachers would call him
An incorrigible pain in the ***.

In high school he was just as aggressive.
His reputation was firmly upheld.
Holding a freshman's head in the toilet
Finally got the bully expelled.

How he earned money. Well, that was
A real mystery--through and through.
Not surprisingly his motto
Was "***** them before they ***** you."

What his girlfriend saw in him
Was truly anybody's guess.
Aware of his fractious personality,
The woman married him nevertheless.

People made bets on how long the couple
Could last in a stormy marriage from hell.
After the wife had had enough,
She packed up the kids and said farewell.

C. B. remained estranged
From both of his kids for the rest of his life.
Some woman out there was very lucky
For he never found another wife.

Money. That was all that mattered.
People? Employees? They were dispensable.
His dog was even afraid of him
And sensed that he was reprehensible.

He bought a number of businesses.
How they lasted was a surprise.
Frankly, most people suspected
Secret Mexican Mafia ties.

One day C. B.'s lifeless body
Was found in his driveway. The coroner said
A heart attack was the cause;
But some suspected foul play instead.

A gravestone reads: "Here lies C. B.
When life was hard, he would persist.
Survived by two loving children,
The doting father will be missed."

Whoever wrote that epitaph?
You wonder: what did he or she owe him?
The author of those unfounded words
Obviously didn't know him.

Oddly the deaths of louses and scoundrels
Are so hard to identify,
For based on gravestones and the obits,
It seems that only good people die.

- by Bob B (6-27-17)

The Dems have taken back the House!
Hopefully, there now will be
For Donald Trump and his admin team
Some accountability.

For two years, Republicans
Have groveled before the man at the top,
Assisting him in obstructing justice.
The nonsense is going to have to stop.

The president's relationship
With the truth worsens every day.
Normal leaders would watch their step,
But his huge ego gets in his way.

Trump’s talking points, for instance,
At a recent Cabinet meeting
Were right out of Putin’s playbook--
Not worthy of even retweeting.

Well, now it’s about time
That members of Congress voice their concern.
Forget about being obsequious,
Mealy-mouthed or taciturn!

Now the American people will have
A House that really cares about them--
One that will fight for justice and also
Condemn that which it ought to condemn.

Many sworn into office today
Reflect diversity in their faces--
Mainly among the Democrats,
Who won highly competitive races.

Progressive change won’t be easy.
There’s STILL a storm that we have to weather:
Trump’s sycophants in the Senate--
Another story altogether.

The past two years have clearly shown us
What a horrible mess we're in.
Positive change will move us forward.
Let the oversight begin!

-by Bob B (1-3-19)

The telephone is constantly ringing;
I’m on the verge of insanity.
It’s all I can do when answering calls
Not to break out in profanity.

It doesn’t help to block a number,
For callers will use another.
How many do they have access to?
Twenty? Forty? Brother!

The scammers are the worst, of course--
Each a conniving crook!
But telephone solicitors?
Also bad in my book!

If they would only take NO for an answer,
It wouldn’t be so bad.
But when they importune me for money,
That’s when I get mad.

Sometimes solicitors overstep
The bounds of familiarity;
If they do, I’ll flatly refuse
To donate to their charity.

I hate to be rude, but it’s hard not to
Say something mean.
As I said, I'm at the point
Of saying something obscene!

It MUST be self-defeating for them,
For I know I'm not alone
When I say they’re forcing me
To never answer my phone.

The “Do Not Call List”? What a joke!
Robocalls? A pain.
All of us in phone-call hell
Have the right to complain.

This phone-call madness will have its place
In the annals of demonology,
For we know one thing: it is one
Of the curses of modern technology.

-by Bob B (9-13-18)

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