Two monks were kneeling by a river,
Washing their bowls in its gentle flow.
One rescued a drowning scorpion,
Which stung his hand before he let it go.

Finishing their daily ritual,
They were about to depart when
They noticed that the very same scorpion
Had fallen into the water again.

Once more the monk reached down,
Scooped up the scorpion with his hand,
And once more the scorpion stung him
Before he placed it on the dry sand.

The other monk questioned him:
"I know the scorpion's a living thing,
But why do you keep saving it when
You know its NATURE is to sting?

"I don't think I could give it
The kind attention that you gave it."
The first monk calmly looked at the other
And replied, "It's MY nature to save it."

-by Bob B (4-4-18)

°An old story retold here in verse

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)

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

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)

"What will you be for Halloween,
Dear little son? Let's see…
What could you be for Halloween?
What would you like to be?"

"I want to be something very scary--
Something that makes the people wary…
A villain who has a spooky face
And makes the world an uglier place…
Who represents an antihero…
Whose record shows he's batting zero…
Who causes suffering everywhere
And acts as though he doesn't care.
That's what I'll be for Halloween;
That's what I want to be."

"What will you be for Halloween,
Dear little son? Let's see…
What could you be for Halloween?
What would you like to be?"

"I'll be the meanest person of all,
Who has no sense of protocol…
Maybe the biggest liar on earth,
Whose only care is what he's worth…
Who many call a political hack
Or a selfish egomaniac…
Who drags the people's names through the mud…
A vampire who is out for blood.
That's what I'll be for Halloween;
That's what I want to be."

"What will you be for Halloween,
Dear little son? Let's see…
What could you be for Halloween?
What would you like to be?"

"I want to make people ill at ease
By kissing up to enemies…
I want to make my critics cower,
The ones who say I abuse my power…
I want my poisonous words to flow
And boost the art of quid pro quo.
I'll pretend I'm heaven sent,
And so I'll be the PRESIDENT!
That's what I'll be for Halloween;
That's what I want to be."

-by Bob B (10-31-19)

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 president says that we should be happy?
He brought us to the brink of war
And then he lied about the reasons.
Of course, we have seen that before.

Lies, lies, again and again…
He thinks he can legitimize
His actions by bombarding us
With lies, lies, and even more lies.

Fifteen thousand four hundred
False claims from the lying pro.
But you have to keep in mind
That that was more than a month ago!

Now he's lying about Iran.
He says he has a better feel
For how to apply maximum pressure--
Better than the nuclear deal.

Abandoning the agreement that
Was working clearly made no sense.
Trump prefers to provoke Iran.
Diplomacy is a better defense.

Diplomacy means "weakness" to Trump.
He would rather pound his chest
And act as though he knows what he's doing.
Tell me: is the man possessed?

Lies, lies, again and again…
How can anyone not despise
A leader who defames our country
With lies, lies, and even more lies.

-by Bob B (1-9-20)

When there's a crisis, we'd like to think
The president would certainly know
How to unify the country--
To take the high road and NOT the low.

But, alas, Trump just can't
Seem to manage to set aside
His grievances and obtusely delivers
A message filled with cyanide.

An act of domestic terrorism--
Pipe bombs being sent through the mail
To Obama, the Clintons, Holder, and others--
A heinous act that's not small scale--

Is an attack on democratic
Values--a dangerous threat to peace.
But when Trump blames the victims, such
Acts of violence will not cease.

Yes, he said the deed was despicable,
But then he blamed CNN
For negative news reportage and lies.
And so here we go again!

Even though his words ring hollow
When he tries to stay on script,
We can see his true feelings
Come out whenever his mouth is unzipped.

Accepting no responsibility
For negative things he says or does,
He stirs up his crowds against other people.
Such behavior gives him a buzz.

Regarding the telling of lies, we know
That no politician ever
Has lied to the people as often as he.
But will he admit that he does it? Never!

Both fans and critics know that for him
The strategy is always the same:
Berate your critics, denounce the truth,
Incite your fans, and pass the blame.

Hopefully, the future will bring
A president we can respect again--
An honest one with integrity.
We have to put up with this one till then.

-by Bob B (10-25-18)

When we see the tip of the iceberg,
One thing that we know
Is there is more--much, much more--
Iceberg down below.

The moon shines on the tip of the iceberg
Creating a silvery sheen
Of gossamer, or sometimes even
A heap of velveteen.

Beating down on the mountain of ice,
The rays from the glorious sun
Melt the surface. But in the meantime,
Damage can be done.

If you approach the iceberg, you
Approach what's "forbidden."
The dangerous part is not what you see,
But rather the part that's hidden.

The shadowy base of the floating mountain
Hidden from your view
Murmurs, "If you get too close,
There's a surprise for you."

The monolithic, towering berg
Will melt eventually,
And gone will be the dangers that
We weren't supposed to see.

Until it melts, be attentive.
Don't be deceived
By bluster and appearances
Not to be believed.

-by Bob B (8-29-17)

Under the sprawling Bodhi Tree,
Siddhartha sits with his primary vow:
How to alleviate suffering
In this world--here and now.

Suddenly, Mara appears--
Mara the tempter--with his sinister grin.
Siddhartha stays calm and unafraid
And graciously welcomes the tempter in.

Offering supernatural powers
Around which the human ego revolves,
Mara observes as Siddhartha sits,
And every thought of power dissolves.

Mara then offers his beautiful daughters,
Hoping Siddhartha yields to temptation.
In silence the unperturbed seeker
Shows the depth of his aspiration.

Growing furious, Mara calls up
Armies of demons of fear and desire.
They surely should stir Siddhartha's
Deep anxieties and inner fire.

Siddhartha merely gains greater insight
Instead of succumbing to Mara's ploys.
Mara departs in a rage, leaving
Siddhartha in a calm, quiescent poise.

After six days a Buddha "awakens"
As the traces of night start to disperse.
From looking into his innermost nature,
He's seen the face of the universe.

- by Bob B

Christmas Day! It's hot off the press.
I cannot believe what I am reading.
There in bold headlines and all in caps:
SANTA CLAUS PULLED OVER FOR SPEEDING!
 
Is it possible for Santa's sleigh
To exceed the maximum miles per hour?
Might that have a little to do
With all of his horse-…or reindeer-power?
 
The policeman asked for his driver's license.
A driver's license for Santa? What gives?
Don't cops know that such trivialities
Are unnecessary where Santa lives?
 
What about vehicle registration?
Also missing on Santa's person.
"Oh, oh," I thought. "He's going to have problems."
But keep on reading: things only worsen.
 
When asked if the red in his cheeks resulted
From tipping the bottle, Santa said, "Stop.
You must be kidding, for you ought to know
That Santa has NEVER touched a drop."
 
The policeman asked him to walk a straight line.
Shaking with laughter, the plump man replied,
"I can't EVEN see my feet.
I couldn't walk a straight line if I tried!"
 
The cop threatened to search the sleigh,
Which, Santa said, would be all right.
"But once you start," he added with a  grin,
"You'll find it's going to take you all night."
 
A witness heard Santa quietly mutter,
"It wasn't such a good idea
To take that alternate route. Good grief!
Where have I landed? In North Korea?
 
You know, you're putting me way behind schedule.
If I don't hurry, I'll be in big trouble."
Santa pleaded with the man in uniform,
"I need to get going on the double."
 
So Santa got off with only a warning.
We're lucky he wasn't hauled off to jail,
Which would have forced Mrs. Claus
To have to come up with money for bail.

- by Bob B

(Try singing this poem to Dionne Warwick's version of "Alfie," by Burt Bacharach and Hal David.)

Somehow you went wrong, Lindsey.°
Don't you feel like the president's chump?
Don't you feel he's wrong, stringing you along, Lindsey?
Strange things happen when you deal with Trump.
You once said he was unfit,
And if he was so unfit, Lindsey,
Then what happened to make him the man?
There can be no doubt what this is about, Lindsey.
How did a foe become his biggest fan?
I guess it doesn't matter if you've got no pride, Lindsey.
How can you live with yourself?
Can it be that Putin has some dirt on you, too,
That you want to hide, Lindsey?
Your odd behavior baffles us, Lindsey.
Wait till you're thrown under the bus. You will be, Lindsey.
If a fool is what you want to be,
Say good-bye to dignity, Lindsey.
Lindsey…

-by Bob B (10-28-19)

°Lindsey Graham, Senator from South Carolina

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YidCdaLPPR8

“Hey there, Mr. Slug! Why do you like my cymbidiums?
Why don’t you dine on the dandelions that so abundantly grow?”
“Well, Mr. Bob, your cymbidiums are so delicious,
And your weeds are not so agreeable. I feel you ought to know.”
 
“Hey there, Mr. Termite! Why do you like my house?
Why can’t you chomp on the neighbors’—the one with such beautiful wood.”
“Well, Mr. Bob, your house is so nutritious;
Your neighbors’ house has been treated, and it doesn’t taste so good.”
 
“Hey there, Mrs. Whitefly! Do you have to **** my hibiscus?
What’s wrong with the morning glories that cover the neighbors’ fence.”
“Well, Mister Bob, hibiscus plants are enticing;
If I feasted on the others, I’d lack some common sense.”
 
“Hey there, Mr. Aphid! Do you have to devour my roses?
Why can’t you gorge on the grasses that grow in yonder field?”
“Well, Mr. Bob, not a thing in that field has
The lure of the genus Rosa, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
 
“Hey there, Mrs. Fly! Do you have to buzz into MY house?
What is wrong with the neighbors’—the one with the door open wide?”
“Well, Mr. Bob, we love the smell of your cookies
And cakes and blueberry cobblers. We’re dying to get inside!”
 
“Well, so much for asking! At least I made an attempt
To deal with you pesky visitors; to bid you all adieu.”
“Sorry, Mr. Bob. We don’t feel very welcome;
But perhaps you’ve forgotten something: WE were here long before YOU.”

- by Bob B

I often wonder how anyone
Can scam other people and call it fun.
How can someone dupe others and be
Content with causing adversity?

What is it about them that makes
Scammers act like cold-hearted snakes?
They hiss, "Honesty be ******!”
How would they like it if they were being scammed?

Like hungry snakes they lie in wait
Until their prey land on their "plate."
They spring as soon as their targets come near,
Before the poor victims can even show fear.

Failing to notice the forms of disguise,
The unwary victims are caught by surprise.
It doesn’t matter how victims feel
Since the snakes’ focus is their next meal.

Scammers and snakes are slimy; that’s true.
But maybe we shouldn't equate the two.
Perhaps it's an insult to snakes to maintain
That they and scammers are in the same vein.

Having no conscience, scammers are ****.
Their minds are selfish; their hearts are numb.
They do not care which rules they subvert;
They couldn't care less if people get hurt.

If I believed in hell, I would say
That that’s where scammers deserve to stay,
Though fire and brimstone and all that stuff
Would NOT be punishment enough.

-by Bob B (1-11-22)

THIS poem is number 800
Of poems I've "published" on various sites.
You might golf, play tennis or paint;
Of me they merely say, "He writes."

Eight hundred poems are a lot
Of poems if you are keeping score.
But bear in mind that poets out there
Have written hundreds or thousands more.

Writing can become a passion--
Something that grasps your innermost being,
That vibrantly exposes your heart
When you try to express what you're seeing.

My approach is sometimes light-hearted
And playful if I am in the mood;
And yet I can be quite serious
And muse on something or ponder or brood.

I often write poems that tell a story.
Call them unsophisticated
If you wish, but frankly I say
Sophistication is overrated.

After observing the world around me,
I sit down and roll up my sleeves
To write, often focusing on
Some of my most annoying pet peeves,

Hypocrisy being ONE of them.
Oh, the slimy hypocrites ooze
Flagrant chicanery, fraud, and pretense,
And every day they're in the news.

Some say, "Leave no turn unstoned."
No, wait: I mean "stone unturned."
And no, you can't please everybody;
That's an important lesson I've learned.

If you've read all 800 poems,
I've taken up a lot of your time.
I hope you've found the journey worthwhile--
This journey through my verses in rhyme.

But if poetry's NOT your thing,
Do not worry; I understand.
You'll receive no criticism,
No reproof, no reprimand.

Therefore, if you've read this far,
Celebrate along with me
This little challenge. Raise your glass
And drink a toast to poetry!

-by Bob B (12-27-18)

Under a tree sat a Christmas present,
Wrapped with loving attention and care
With snowflake paper and shiny red ribbon--
Indicative of a festive affair.

A name tag hung from the ruby-red bow.
The name on the tag simply read "Honey."
Surrounding gifts were covered with Santas,
Elves and penguins--cute and funny.

The twinkling lights on the Christmas tree
Cast their colors, sparkling and resplendent,
On the tinsel, garland, and ornaments--
On every reflective yuletide pendant.

The initial excitement that filled the home
With hope and eager anticipation,
Was suddenly brought to a halt:
A cloud darkened the celebration.

On Christmas Eve when wrappings went flying,
One gift stayed under the tree:
The gift for "Honey" remained unopened,
For "Honey" was an absentee.

"Honey's" life abruptly ended
Three weeks before Christmas Eve
By terrorists' bullets. A time for cheer
Turned into a time to grieve.

Times like this test our faith
In hope and humanity. The trick is to know
How to remain calm and rational
When the heart is aching so.

- by Bob B

Was Ebenezer Scrooge in Dickens'
Christmas Carol purely fictitious?
No, Scrooges live today,
Equally greedy, cold and ambitious.

They represent Scrooge before
He earned our admiration and saw
That human compassion came only after
His ice-cold heart had begun to thaw.

His transformation showed him his former
Cruel disregard for humanity
And let him see that miserliness
Was nothing but a heartless insanity.

Modern Scrooges fail to see
The light of compassion that brightly outshines them.
Their greed prevents them from seeing the moral
Bankruptcy that clearly defines them.

They couldn't care less about
The hard-working and struggling masses.
Their main concern is that each law
That benefits the wealthy passes.

Some of these Scrooges you will find
Working in Congress, eagerly serving
Wealthy donors who give them money
And feel as though they're more deserving.

Creating laws to make their pockets
Overflow: that's their aim.
To them the parasitical poor
Deserve bitter contempt and blame.

One wonders if these greedy misers
Find it hard to resist the temptation
Of saying, "Then why not let them die
And decrease the surplus population?"

“Aren't there workhouses?” and “Aren't there prisons?”
Are what these Scrooges appear to say.
“Concerns of the poor are not our business;
Why can’t they just go away?”

Ebenezer Scrooge was lucky:
His transformation showed him the light.
Will wealthy Scrooges running this country
Discover compassion and be less tight?

-by Bob B (12-28-17)

Santa breathed in the cool night air,
Thinking back on the days of old,
Before the polar ice cap started
Melting. When weather was REALLY cold!

"I barely need my heavy jacket,"
Santa said to himself in dismay.
"With all this ice so mushy and slushy,
How will the reindeer pull my sleigh?"

A polar bear came trudging by,
Emaciated and sour in mood.
Shrinking along with the habitat
Was the bear's supply of food.

"Santa," asked the polar bear,
"Do you know what's happening here?
Something very sinister is
Adversely affecting the cryosphere.

"The temperature's rising on land and sea.
I have to say, this isn't nice.
I don't mean to be punny here,
But we are walking on very thin ice."

"Seabirds, too, are leaving," said Santa.
"And so are ice-dependent seals.
Pressure on the ecosystem,
Is making it hard for them to find meals."

Feeling pessimistic, the bear
Wandered off, shaking his head.
Santa muttered, "**** fossil fuels!"
And sloshed his way into his shed.

The once-jolly man started to work
On a project in which he seemed engrossed.
Soon he emerged, carrying
A "For Sale" sign stuck to a post,

Which he placed on his property.
He sighed, "Talk about regrets.
Why the heck didn't I give
More kids chemistry sets?"

- by Bob B (12-20-16)

Much of America is mourning still--
Mourning the light extinguished when
Heedlessness embraced false promise;
Mourning the loss of what could have been;

Mourning the hope of a glorious day
Darkened by a cloud of despair
And sincere interconnectedness
Became replaced by vanity fair;

Mourning the loss of a heart that beat
For all and not for a limited few,
And coarseness received people's praise,
And true refinement became taboo;

Mourning a dream of inclusiveness
With all-embracing open arms
When a nightmare smothered it
And drowned out warnings and alarms;

Mourning the flower of optimism
With hope in every opening bud
When weeds with thorns of cynicism  
Flourished, and hope was dripping in blood;

Mourning the renewed freshness of spring
And the calm peace of a summer's night,
Ravished by winds of uncertainty
And the bitter harshness of winter's blight.

Much of America is mourning still.
The grief will end one day. Till then,
We all move forward while many continue
To mourn the loss of what could have been.

- by Bob B (11-25-16)

Greetings from us at Homeland Security.
We hope you had a pleasant journey.
But keep in mind there's no guarantee
That you won't exit on a gurney.

You should love our border camps,
Which are still progressing in stages.
We have “subdivided rooms.”
(We don't like to call them cages.)

We strive to stifle criticism.
Please ignore our critics' lore.
Doesn't everybody love
To camp out on a cold, hard floor?

We provide you with a blanket.
What? One is not enough?
Crowded rooms should keep you warm.
Exposure to germs will make you tough!

Lest you feel our detention centers
Are too uncomfortable or stark,
We leave the lights on for twenty-four hours
Daily in case you're afraid of the dark.

What? You say you need a doctor?
Come on, beggars can't be choosers.
Toothbrushes? Toothpaste? Soap?
Those are just for wimps or losers.

We all want your stay to be
Just as pleasant as we can make it.
True, some have died, but they’re
The weaker ones who cannot take it.

If your kids were taken away,
We don't mean to disrespect you,
But since only God knows where they are,
Then we'll let God reconnect you.

Locking kids in windowless
Warehouses in our recollection
Is a way to offer the kids
Security and protection.

If perhaps you’re seeking asylum,
One little thing might give you pause:
The president is working on
Ways to change asylum laws.

We know the whole idea of camps
Polarizes, or causes a schism.
In figuring out what to call them,
We prefer the euphemism.

So, enjoy your stay until
The powers that be decide your fate.
If you’re lucky, you’ll get a shower
During your long, protracted wait.

-by Bob B (6-24-19)

Have you ever prepped for a colonoscopy?
That's what I get to do today.
It means no solid food for me;
Clear broth will be my entrée.

I get to drink as much water
And juice as I want; but there's a catch:
The constant need of a toilet nearby--
A slight downside to "Down the hatch!"

Another rule: I must not let
Anything RED pass through my mouth.
Apparently, red things tend to
Cause confusion…well…down "south."

When passing by the bakery window
Where freshly-baked sweets are lying,
I know it will be torture for me
To hear my stomach growling and crying.

I do get to eat popsicles--
That is, as long as they aren't red.
Maybe I can just pretend
That they're tacos or pizza instead.

I have to STOP thinking about food.
I know my hunger pains won't last
Forever, and I can always say
I'm on a liquid and popsicle fast.

When the real clean-out starts
Later in the afternoon,
That's when the fun REALLY begins!
Help! I want this over soon!

I will spare you those details.
Just know that more adventures follow.
I'll be relieved after this prep
And my trip to the surgery center tomorrow.

(But let me warn you: I really don't
Mean to freak you out, but
Don't worry if it feels as though
You're peeing out of your you-know-what!)

The actual procedure is not that bad--
Once I get through today and tonight.
I won't feel or remember a thing;
Hopefully, I'll be out like a light.

The doctor is also performing an upper
G.I. endoscopy. I strongly hope
That when he does it, he is certain
That he's using a different scope.

Too much information? Maybe.
But if you've never done this, you
At least know all the wonderful things
You have to look forward to.

- by Bob B

Whether to have dessert
Is not even a question.
Not to indulge in sweets?
Don’t even make that suggestion.
 
Having no apple pie
Or luscious lemon meringue
Would be a real ******—
As we say in slang.
 
Right out of the oven:
Hot cinnamon rolls...
Or donuts right out of the fryer--
With or without holes...
 
Crepes filled with strawberries,
With a dollop of whipped cream...
When I talk about sweets,
I never run out of steam.
 
Don’t forget about cakes,
And anything with custard...
Chocolate in every form...
And--I’m getting flustered--
 
Fresh homemade cookies
Of any delicious kind...
Chocolate fudge or divinity...
Yikes, I’m losing my mind!
 
Dessert bars, oh, my goodness,
Chewy, crumbly, flaky...
Banana, zucchini, and pumpkin
Bread—soft and cakey...
 
Cupcakes topped with thick frosting,
And filled with chocolate ganache...
Creamy Crème brûlée...
Boy, aren’t we getting posh!
 
A sugary German plum cake,
A Danish butter ring,
And Greek galaktoboureko
Give me a reason to sing!
 
Chocolate frosted brownies...
Lefse with sugar and butter...
My sweet tooth is growing larger
With every word that I utter.
 
Some people say that these sweets
Might be the cause of my death.
Then let me be holding a cookie
When I take my last breath!

- by Bob B

Isn't SPAM a pain in the rear?
NOT the canned Spam that you can eat;
I mean the spam in your email mailbox.
It's so annoying and so indiscreet.

"Mark as Spam" sometimes works,
But obnoxious messages still get through.
It seems as though you always have tons
Of unwanted email staring at you.

Have you seen "Six Months to Skinny"
Or the "One-Pound-a-Day Diet"?
There's always "Hi, you're going to love this"
Or "Want a good time?" That one's a riot.

What about "Help with Alcohol,"
"Penny Stock Tips," or "Erectile Dysfunction"?
Or "Toenail Fungus"? Yikes! Please spare me.
They send out this nonsense with no compunction!

Breast augmentation? That I don't want.
Baldness cures? Well, if I let it
Be a problem and needed some snake oil,
I know exactly where to get it.

I often get messages dealing with meds.
Those boring messages always fall flat.
And then there's "Male Enhancement Madness."
No thanks; I will pass on that.

Have you received the message that goes
Something like "Hi, my name is Pam"?
The one that I find really hilarious
Is the one that reads, "This is not spam!"

Despite precautions, when checking your email,
You're bound to find SPAM--lying in wait.
I have to say that I much prefer it
Not in my mailbox, but instead on my plate.

- by Bob B

Bowie State University
Student, Richard Collins III,
Commissioned as a second lieutenant,
Will not graduate. Have you heard?

On the path to serving his nation
In many more ways than one,
Collins' life was quickly ended.
Another mother lost her son.

Standing with friends, minding his business,
Collins--as witnesses will attest--
Was stabbed by a homegrown, racist terrorist--
Stabbed directly in the chest.

Who was the killer? Sean Urbanski,
A current student at UMD,
Also a member of Alt-*****: Nation,
A truth of a painful reality.

Emboldened by white supremacists
Working in the White House, no less,
Racist groups are on the rise,
Spreading their loathsome hatefulness.

They say that Collins was brutally murdered
Because of the color of his skin.
He was murdered because of hatred,
For hatred is racism's twin.

Resist the scourge of discrimination.
Mobilize--it's never too late--
To extirpate ALL forms
Of ugly, white-supremacist hate.

-by Bob B (5-23-17)

They say in Washington, D.C.
That few are hated as much as he.
Of course, that all depends on whom you ask.
If you ask him, he contends
He's not there to make more friends.
Pushing his agenda is his task.

Yep, the man has found his niche--
The man known as Moscow Mitch.

His biggest friend in D.C. now
Is Donald Trump. Notice how
The two men are connected at the hip.
They will sacrifice--insane!--
Democracy for political gain
With their vile, disgusting partnership.

Yep, the man has found his niche--
The man known as Moscow Mitch.

He truly doesn't dignify
The Senate, where bills go to die.
He prefers to make up his own rules.
Obviously, Mitch's goal
Is only to maintain control
And stack the federal courts with far-right fools.

Yep, the man has found his niche--
The man known as Moscow Mitch.

We know that Russians interfered
In our elections, but what's weird
Is Mitch McConnell doesn't seem to care.
Since Russians helped Trump win before,
He could use their help once more.
Without their help he wouldn't have a prayer.

Yep, the man has found his niche--
The man known as Moscow Mitch.

Just look at his expressionless mug.
(People say he resembles a slug--
A slug with an empty, vapid frown.)
If people really knew what's good,
And if they cared at all they would
Find a candidate to bring him down.

Yep, the man who found his niche--
The man known as Moscow Mitch.

-by Bob B (7-27-19)

If you would like to run a country
And run it with an iron fist
While thumbing your nose at democracy,
Then keep in mind the following list:

One. Once you're in office,
Defy the voters that you'd been wooing
By doing some of the things that you
Criticized your opponent for doing.

Two. Demonize the media.
Accuse them of grossly distorting
The truth. Call them the enemy,
And give no credence to what they're reporting.

Three. When matters don't go your way,
Resort to alternative facts and choose
Disinformation as the best way
To strengthen your base with far-fetched views.

Four. Give alt-right nationalists
Top positions on your team
And then belittle those who say
That your advisers are too extreme.

Five. Meet with the FBI
To clarify your expectations.
Tell them that they should knock down stories
And change ongoing investigations.

Six. Pressure heads of intelligence
Investigative committees to call
Reporters to tell them to alter reports.
Tell them "To hell with protocol!"

Seven. Downplay the roles of foreign
Countries in helping you win the race.
Discourage further investigations
By saying they're totally out of place.

Eight. Follow the expert advice
Of Vladimir Lenin, who would say,
"A lie told often enough
Becomes the truth." That works today.

Nine. Belittle judges and courts;
Belittle even allies and friends.
Stick your foot in your mouth even more
When you try to make amends.

Ten. It helps to criticize
The CIA and FBI.
Intimidate and discredit them,
And hang the agencies out to dry.

Eleven. Chip away at people's
Rights. Try to make them believe
That what you are doing is for their own good.
Remind them that the press can deceive.

Twelve. Continue campaign rallies
To stroke your ego; to prove you're liked.
Cover up the fact that your
Disapproval ratings have spiked.

A master con artist will know
How to take information and spin it.
He needs to find a gullible mind,
And "There's a sucker born every minute."

- by Bob B (2-26-17)

(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" by Al Dubin and Joseph Burke.)

D.T.:
Tiptoe through my tantrums,
Through my tantrums--my reality.
Come tiptoe through my tantrums with me.

Tiptoe through my chaos,
For my chaos is a guarantee
If you stroll through my chaos with me.

If things do not go my way,
I'll try to ruin your day.

Don't try to boss me, double-cross me
Or defy me, if YOU do you'll be
Wrapped up in my chaos with me.

If you don't like what you hear,
That's tough 'cause I won this year!

Do what I tell you
If you don't you'll be up a tree.
So tiptoe through my tantrums with me.

-by Bob B (12-17-20)

Certain events change our world
And boldly challenge the status quo,
Such as the following major event
That happened seventy years ago:

Sending shock waves throughout society,
Jackie Robinson challenged the norm
And gave a segregated system--
Major league baseball--a brand-new form.

Robinson broke the major league
Color barrier by cutting through
Years of unfair treatment in sports.
Three cheers for Number 42!

The ongoing struggle for civil rights
Would take inning after inning,
For Robinson's accomplishment
Wasn't an end but just a beginning.

Facing enormous hostility still,
The baseball player held his ground.
Sadly it took many years
For politicians to come around.

A year later President Truman
Integrated the military--
Also a long time coming,
But also a move that was necessary.

Seventeen long years later
Congress passed legislation
In civil rights, which became
A major blow to segregation.

Why so long? So it goes;
In politics you will find
That often we want to move ahead
While politicians lag behind.

Other barriers are still to be broken--
Barriers to civil and equal rights.
There are more fights to be fought
And goals on which to set our sights.

So let the number 42
Honor the history-making man
Who was a hero among many heroes,
Whether or not you're a baseball fan.

- by Bob B (4-15-17)

If you think Congress is out of step
With what the people desire today,
Let the candidates hear your voice;
It's time to send them on their way.
Vote!

If the past two years have been
A nightmare from which you want to awake,
And much of what you valued has been
Shot to hell, for goodness' sake,
Vote!

If honesty and integrity
Of a leader are important to you,
And you believe in checks and balances,
Then you know the right thing to do:
Vote!

If pre-existing conditions are
Important to you, and lawmakers dare
To weaken programs such as Social
Security and Medicare,
Vote!

If you care about equal access,
That citizens shouldn't have to fight
Restrictive laws preventing them
From voting, then please do what's right:
Vote!

If you think our leaders have been
Leading us down the rabbit hole,
And conflicts of interest and also major
Corruption have gotten out of control,
Vote!

If far-right extremism
Has no place in the White House, and when
The president praises autocrats
And scorns our loyal allies, then
Vote!

If you want an America
That has BOTH jobs and heart,
Where the leader's rhetoric
Doesn't tear the country apart,
Vote!

-by Bob B (10-29-18)

(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 be like me
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 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've 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 never know who you can *****
Until you shift your point of view.
Remember: *****, before you're *******.
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.

- by Bob B (1-19-17)

While walking in a desolate area
Without a weapon and all alone,
A man encountered a vicious tiger.
He stopped in his tracks and uttered a moan.

He ran to the edge of a nearby cliff
And glanced at the jagged rocks below.
Desperate, he climbed down a vine
And hung there swinging to and fro.

Looking up, he saw two mice
And had to stifle his fearful cries.
The mice were gnawing on the vine!
His whole life flashed before his eyes.

Then he noticed a strawberry plant.
Holding on as best he could,
He plucked a single berry and ate it.
A berry had never tasted so good!

(3-2-17) By Bob B

°An old tale retold here in verse

Goal-oriented is what you are.
You are ambitious and highly pragmatic.
Since you rely on structure and form,
It drives you crazy if life gets erratic.

Capricorns, when they are young,
Often appear mature and engaging.
When they reach middle age,
They seem to defy the process of aging.

Since you like to be in charge,
You like both control and authority.
Your willingness to accept
Responsibility is a priority.

As long as you believe that you'll
Succeed, you will persevere.
But know that you can also be
Lazy when your goals aren't clear.

Though out-going and competitive,
One thing that makes you apprehensive
Is a lack of confidence,
Which can also make you defensive.

Wanting to be admired and respected,
You hate to appear ineffective
And weak, and since you fear rejection,
Winning is your major objective.

In fact, so determined are you
To win, that the thought is vexatious
For you to lose, so when you do,
It's difficult for you to be gracious.

You always want to know where you stand,
So you like to plan each move.
Anticipating gains and losses
Helps you to stay in the groove.

Your love of structure applies to traditions;
You have the need to protect and preserve.
Despite your good sense of humor,
Being teased strikes a nerve.

Dedication to duty guides you.
Even though you have the ability
To reason well, worrying
Can put a strain on your tranquility.

When first dealing with others, you
Can be reserved, but in the end
After you give your trust, you prove
To be a loyal and steadfast friend.

Just be careful that you do not
Turn into a workaholic.
Stifled self-reliance can make
You pessimistic and melancholic.

Because of your hard-working nature,
Mundane tasks are no big deal.
But the loss of self-esteem
Can be your Achilles' heel.

You will accomplish marvelous things
If you can balance work and play.
Let your cautious but warm heart guide you.
Plan for tomorrow, but seize the day.

- by Bob B (12-22-16)

Trump says there's no reason we
Should keep our troops in Germany.
How does he know? 'Cause Putin told him so.

The G7 summit would be great
If Vladimir Putin could make it G8.
How does Trump know? 'Cause Putin told him so.

It never seems to matter
What Putin says or does.
Trump will always back
The tyrant just because.

Trump thinks it would be a boon
For Putin to visit the White House soon.
How does he know? 'Cause Putin told him so.

Bounties on our troops in Afghanistan
Couldn't, says Trump, be Russia's plan.
How does he know? 'Cause Putin told him so.

-by Bob B (7-2-20)

Twenty eighteen has come and gone,
And all I can say is, What a year!
That twenty nineteen will also be
Just as crazy is crystal clear.

Mass shootings once again
Shook the country, taking a toll
On all of us, and yet very little
Has been done about gun control.

Always the center of controversies,
Trump again tried to assuage
The public by pleading ignorance
When Stormy Daniels took center stage.

Then we learned that Trump had paid
Hush money to flings at least TWICE
In hopes to secure his chances of winning
The twenty sixteen election. How nice!

A lot of Trump's team have left
Through the admin's revolving door,
Always mired in controversy.
There are bound to be many more.

Trump has proved he loves his tyrants
More than he loves our allies and friends.
Ignoring advice from experts, he'll do
Whatever Putin recommends.

Hurricanes caused major flooding;
California was ravaged by fires.
Yet dire warnings go unheeded
By stalwart climate change deniers.

The separation of families seeking
Asylum showed a callous side
Of Trump and his team, whose inhumane
Actions cannot be denied.

Year two of investigations…
Manafort, Gates, Cohen, and Flynn
Are talking more, while the walls
Around Donald Trump are closing in.

Meanwhile Trump continues to lie.
There's no end to his subterfuge.
How many lies? Eight thousand?
And Giuliani plays his stooge.

Kavanagh got a Supreme Court seat
After a sham investigation,
Which shows how Trump maintains the belief:
What's good for Trump is good for the nation.

November saw a welcome blue wave
Sweep through the House. Such a delight!
This should end Nunes' obstruction
Of justice. There will be oversight!

We lost three prominent people:
Barbara and George Bush and McCain.
Very few members of
The old Republican guard remain.

Trump cannot stop harping on
His WALL--a waste of money and time.
With our crumbling infrastructure,
Building his "wall" would be a crime.

What will the New Year bring forth?
Perhaps an indictment? Perhaps an arraignment?
Since Trump loves to be the star,
THAT'S what I'd call entertainment!

-by Bob B (1-1-19)

When ignorance goes running rampant
And fools run amok,
And the measure of success is strictly
The almighty buck;

When logic and reason become suspect
And fakesters are thought wise,
And people relish living in
A fool's paradise;

When false news is the word of the day
And many people choose
To get their news from stations where ratings
Are more important than news;

When lies masquerade as truth
And facts are seen as perverse,
And the lack of consideration for others
Goes from bad to worse;

When science is known as the enemy
And metaphor as science,
And blind acceptance and misunderstanding
Form a tight alliance;

When bold and brazen ideologues
Make it their primary mission
To push their will upon the people
And crush the opposition;

And when world leaders have the potential
To leave the world in rubble,
And some of the leaders are buffoons,
WE'RE IN A HEAP OF TROUBLE!

- by Bob B (12-17-16)

Senator Bob Corker° refers
To what has become the scary result
Of blind devotion to Donald Trump.
He calls the movement a GOP cult.

It's easy to join the cult if you
Don't mind sacrificing free will.
Getting out of the cult is another
Story; that will take some skill.

Members lose their sense of self
When they join the Cult of Trump.
When Trump says "Bow!" they all bow;
When he says "Jump!" boy they jump!

Cult members in Congress have
Handed legislative power
Over to Trump, their supreme
Leader before whom they cower.

Regarding constitutional
Authority: will it last?
Or will it suffer a slow death
And thus become a thing of the past?

All the Leader has to say
Is "They are wrong and I am right,"
And followers agree en masse.
Not to agree would be impolite.

Effusive praise and allegiance must go
To the Leader who is all-about-me.
He says he knows what's good for you.
Woe to you if you disagree.

It used to be that presidents
Worked for the people, but we have found
That currently with the Cult of Trump,
It's the other way around.

How many more will drink the Kool-Aid?
Who else will fall under Trump's spell?
Remember Jonestown? In the end,
Things did not go very well.

-by Bob B (6-14-18)

°Republican Senator from Tennessee

(Can be sung to "If I Only Had a Brain" from THE WIZARD OF OZ)

"I swear that you'll regret it.
Don't take it as a threat; it
Just shows how far I've reached.
Wall Street will fumble
And stocks will take a tumble
If I ever get impeached.

"My supporters will be livid,
My language much more vivid.
You know how much I've preached.
Without my expert thinking
The country will be sinking
If I ever get impeached.

"Oh, why don't you see that I
Can fix this country now.
I'm the only one with answers as to how.
Excuse me while I take a bow.

"Compared to me he's scrawny--
My buddy Giuliani--
And, oh, how he has screeched.
But he will stand right by me
While others vilify me
If I ever get impeached.

"Why do my critics shout
When talk leaks out about
All the protocol I've breached?
You'll all have to worry
When I unleash my fury
If I ever get impeached."

-by Bob B (8-27-18)

°Inspired by parodist John Di Domenico, also known as Randy Rainbow. I wanted to write the poem/song from the president's point of view. Thanks, RR, for the idea of using the topic of impeachment with the song from THE WIZARD OF OZ.

We'd like to think that we could go
Out for an evening and not have to worry
That we are going to end up being
The helpless victim of a gunman's fury.

One would think that mass shootings
In which so many lives are lost
Might compel lawmakers
To stop the killings at any cost.

When so many shootings occur
On American soil year after year,
Don't enough people wonder
What the hell is happening here?

What are people waiting for?
How many more victims will die?
Must we sit by helplessly
While lawmakers turn a blind eye?

Another horrific act of violence
Occurred at the Borderline Bar & Grill
When a solitary gunman
Had one thing on his mind: to ****.

Eleven young people gunned down.
An officer shot dead as well.
Only survivors who were present
Can talk about their glimpse of hell.

The killer, too, lost his life
From a wound, possibly self-inflicted.
Some say in retrospect
His actions could have been predicted.

No one can fathom the suffering
Of the victims' parents, families and friends--
Their heartache and anguish from knowing that
Their loved ones met such violent ends.

Just two weeks before Thanksgiving!
This year it will be a chore
To ask the parents staring at empty
Seats what they are thankful for.

A call to action is the only response
To the horror that this nightmare evokes
When twelve innocent victims must
Lose their lives in Thousand Oaks.

Remember the victims:

Sgt. Ron Helus (54)
Sean Adler (48)
Cody Coffman (22)
Blake Dingman (21)
Jake Dunham (21)
Alaina Housley (18)
Daniel Manrique (33)
Justin Meek (23)
Mark Meza (20)
Kristina Morisette (20)
Telemachus Orfanos (27)
Noel Sparks (21)

A mother of one of the victims has said,
"Here are my words. I want gun control.
I don't want prayers. I don't want thoughts."

-by Bob B (11-9-18)

Putin signed a bill into law--
Another bill that will surely curtail
Freedom of speech, for violators
Could very likely end up in jail.

This is the most recent attempt
To stifle the freedom of thought and expression.
For years, such autocratic
Control has been Putin's obsession.

They say that it's an effort to make
Fake news disappear,
Although "fake news" is anything that
The government doesn't want to hear.

This is what it basically means:
Russia will not tolerate
Criticism of Vladimir Putin
Or "disrespect" of the Russian state.

Of course, that's just attacks on Russia.
Everything else remains the same.
Russian attempts to tamper with
Elections here will be fair game.

So American democracy
And institutions remain under threat
While Russian troll farms and Russian bots
Keep on flooding the Internet.

Will Trump speak out, or will he stay silent?
We hear how often he defends
Autocrats, and to hear him speak,
Putin and he are the best of friends.

-by Bob B (3-20-19)

We hear the sounds of approaching thunder
Drowning out the cries and pleas
Of people calling out for freedom--
Urgent calls in times like these!
March!

We hear the words that spit and sputter--
That splatter against mellifluous sounds
Of peace, of hope, of promise, of caring,
Creating verbal battlegrounds.
March!

We see the dark and threatening clouds
Looming above, waiting to rain
On love and reason. The winds of hatred
Equal the force of a hurricane.
March!

We see around the neck of compassion
A cruel, ever-tightening noose,
While the henchmen multiply--
A surge of bigotry on the loose.
March!

We feel in our hearts the constant longing
For dreams that should be guaranteed
By thoughtful laws and not by decisions
Forged from ignorance, power, and greed.
March!

We feel the sadness, pain, and despair
Of all who are trampled and left behind,
Of all whose rights are being denied,
Of all who are hated and maligned.
March!

We know that we can transcend bias;
When myth prevails, wisdom departs.
We can flourish by wisely removing
The chains of intolerance from our hearts.
March!

We know that we have the potential
To live in a country governed by laws
Embracing all the people here
And freeing us from tyranny's claws.
March!

March to demonstrate solidarity
With others who hear the urgent call.
March together in peace for social
And economic justice for all!
March!

-by Bob B (1-31-17, 1-17-18)

*This is an update and reposting of my Jan 2017 poem.

"You can have my wife.
I’ll give up my truck.
I admit, without them
Life would really ****.
Take my riding mower
And my rod and reel;
And while you are at it,
Take my new fifth wheel.
That will really hurt;
Life won't be so fun.
But you can take most anything;
Just don’t take my gun!
 
"Come and get my tools—
My hammer and my drill.
Don’t forget to also
Take my Solaire grill.
I’ll part with my saws—
Dovetail, chain, and rip.
Take the whole tool shed;
I ain’t gonna quip.
You can have my kids—
Take ‘em one by one.
I’ll get by without ‘em all;
Just don’t take my gun!
 
"Take my fishing tackle
And my motor boat.
If you want I’ll even
Throw in my last oat.
Go on, take my Stetson
And my Tony Lamas
And that mantle clock there
(Though it was my mama’s).
Hell, take all my clothes—
Don’t bother leaving none.
I don’t need ‘em anyway;
Just don’t take my gun!
 
"You can have my sofa
And my favorite chair.
Take my widescreen TV;
I don’t really care.
Go on, take my beer,
My freezer full of grouse,
My washer and my dryer...
Take the whole **** house.
I’ll give you all my tales—
Every yarn I’ve spun.
You can have my heart and soul;
Just don’t take my gun!"

- by Bob B

Say good-by to the old year;
Say hello to the new.
Let go of the past and try to recast
A new and exciting you.
Say good riddance to all of your worries;
Start out fresh and clean.
Strive to find peace of mind
In TWENTY SEVENTEEN.

The past year was a messy one
With floods in the Midwest.
Then the ruler of North Korea,
Who has to be possessed
And thumbs his nose at the world and is
Always involved in a tussle,
Exploded a hydrogen bomb, thus
Flexing his little muscle.
LGBT and voting rights
Were both under attack.
Horrible massacres occurred
In Pakistan and Iraq.
In Syria and Afghanistan
Massacres happened as well.
And Jerusalem and Saudi Arabia
Both had a taste of hell.

Record-breaking blizzards made
The East cold and wet.
Scaring the world, the Zika virus
Continued to be a threat.
The water in Flint, Michigan,
Was an ongoing crisis.
Ancient ruins in the Middle East
Were STILL being bombed by ISIS.
The Clinton e-mail "scandal" grew
To ridiculous proportions.
More and more states were killing
Women's rights to abortions.
President Erdogan in Turkey
Cracked down on the press.
In the South China Sea, China
Was causing a lot of distress.

Britain voted to leave the EU.
Obama went to Japan
And visited Hiroshima--
A long-overdue plan.
Russia hacked U.S. computers
And boasted of certain connections,
Making us wonder how much control
We have over elections.
Summer record-breaking heat
Baked many states,
While the media bombarded us
With presidential debates.
The Summer Olympics took place this year
In lovely Rio, but mercy!
It's always hard to pull that off
Without some controversy.

This year we lost some famous people--
Too many to list.
Bowie, Ali, Leonard Cohen
And others will be missed.
(By the way, if memories here
Tend to focus on bad things,
Just remember that life is full
Of both happy and sad things.)
The economy has made improvements;
Unemployment is down.
Some businesses, they say,
Are really going to town.
Many people want to know
How much Donald Trump earns;
The billionaire still refuses
To show us his tax returns!

Fires raged in California.
In Oklahoma the land
Shook from fracking quakes, which
Are getting out of hand.
Protesters demonstrated
Together at Standing Rock
The oil pipeline coming their way.
They gathered round the clock.
Hurricane Mathew slammed hard
Into our eastern coast.
But Glenn Beck's conversion was
What shocked us the most,
Next to the presidential election,
That is. What a surprise!
And to think the unthinkable happened
Right before our eyes!

But say good-by to the old year;
Say hello to the new.
Let go of the past and try to recast
A new and exciting you.
Say good riddance to all of your worries;
Start out fresh and clean.
Strive to find peace of mind
In TWENTY SEVENTEEN.

- by Bob B (12-28-16)

One day it dawned on Lana:
Some physical “flaws” seemed more dominant.
Rivers of wrinkles crisscrossed her face,
And the bump on her nose looked more prominent.
“This just won’t do,” she said to herself.
“Good looks are SO in demand.
I’ve got to see Dr. Slicestitch before
All of this gets out of hand.”
 
The doctor, after examining Lana,
Made a few helpful suggestions:
“I have the perfect plan for you.
Just stop me to ask any questions.
Let’s start with a major skin resurfacing
To get rid of wrinkles and spots.
We’ll do a slice here, a little slice there,
And then we will start with the shots.
Collagen and Botox injections
Will follow your mid-face lift.
Rhinoplasty will flatten your nose.
But we can’t give your ***** short shrift.
If you’re looking at breast enlargement,
We can give you an impressive rack—
Unless reduction is more beneficial
To somewhat relieve that pain in your back.
We’ll lift your eyelids, raise your cheekbones,
And put an implant in your chin.
We’ll thicken your lips and pull back your neck
To allow you to have the tightest of skin.
There's sclerotherapy for varicose veins;
My accuracy is really uncanny.
And a little more work in the lower area
Will give great form to your flat *****.
Liposuction on your thighs and belly
Would, I think, be very smart.
Plus laser treatment for unwanted hair.
All this should be a great START.”
 
You should see Lana now;
Stop by to kindly surprise her.
You’ll be astonished by her new look,
Although you won’t recognize her.
Her face is so tight that she can’t smile;
Her translucent skin is pale and waxen.
Her chin protrudes and her nose is flat.
She’ll remind you of Michael Jackson.
It almost seems as though she can’t blink;
If she could, I’d be amazed.
The look on her face is the look of a woman
Perpetually shocked or crazed.
Regarding her *******, she went with large
Instead of doing the breast reduction.
Her ******* might turn heads, but not
The loose skin from her liposuction.
Yes, she’s got new shape to her bottom,
But now especially she must beware:
Since she is so heavy on top,
It makes it hard to sit on a chair.
Since she’s started all this work,
Frequent adjustments will be needed
To fine tune areas that would get messy
If they're left entirely unheeded.
 
A major overhaul on a car
Works well on an old Model T.
The human body is more problematic;
The outcome has no guarantee.
A little adjustment here and there
Is fine if it’s done quite tastefully.
But many people like the idea
Of growing old gracefully.
Lana received a complete transformation;
Of options she was presented with plenty.
It’s just that it’s strange when someone looks
Seventy going on twenty.

- by Bob B

Please don't be my Valentine
UNLESS your heart's sincere--
Unless you get all tingly
Whenever I come near.
 
You can't be my Valentine
If dreaming's obsolete--
If without me in your life
You wouldn't be complete.
 
How can we be Valentines
If we cannot laugh
At all our idiosyncrasies
That speak on our behalf?
 
There's NO way we'll be Valentines
Unless you find me charming--
Unless you find my silly habits
Pleasantly disarming.
 
We cannot be Valentines
Unless it means forever--
Unless our solid love is one
That even death can't sever.
 
No, we won’t be Valentines
Unless my words ring true,
And feelings that you have for me
Are just like mine for you.
 
But IF we CAN'T be Valentines,
Nothing else then matters--
My WORLD will be an empty shell;
My HEART will be in tatters.
 
- by Bob B

Russian aggressors made their move.
Now they're in Ukraine.
What is Putin trying to prove?
What is there to gain?
The autocrat's messages are cloaked
In lies that Russia was provoked.

Stand with Ukraine as Russian forces
Put Putin's plan into action.
We already know that this of course is
More than a mere infraction.
Playing the role of boogeyman
Is part of Putin's larger plan.

Putin claims his forces are there
To stop denazification.
The argument, which is full of holes,
Is total fabrication.
We already know that he's obsessed
With Ukraine's interest in the West.

We watch as the egomaniac
Causes death and destruction
With this unwarranted attack--
Another Putin production!
Stand with Ukraine in this sad hour
As Putin basks in his ill-gotten power.

-by Bob B (2-24-22)

Ah, to be an ostrich!
I'd bury my head in the sand.
I could remain oblivious
To what was going on in this land.
I'd hide from gnawing hunger
That showed on children’s faces,
And my total lack of involvement
Would leave no guilty traces.
 
Ah, to be a bear!
I’d hibernate in my cave
And wouldn’t worry about
Those whom I couldn’t save.
The lost and disenfranchised
Could struggle on their own,
While I stayed safe and sound
And slumbered all alone.
 
Ah, to be a turtle!
I would hide in my shell,
Ignoring world injustice
And abuses here as well.
When the power-grabbing wealthy
Tromped on the rights of the poor,
From such wrongdoing I’d hide
Behind my keratin door.
 
Ah, to be an eagle!
I'd soar across the sky.
Removed from worldly problems,
I’d never have to ask why
So many people **** others
Because of ideals so absurd.
I could maintain my distance.
How lucky to be a bird!
 
But being an ostrich is awkward
For people tend to stare
When your head's under the ground
And your **** sticks up in the air.
Being a bear can be hard,
For a cave can be damp and cold,
And not to mention lonely:
I guess that would get very old.
And about being a turtle—
And this is the honest scoop—
Your chances are very good
That you’ll end up in soup.
Finally, on being an eagle:
Though flying brings you great mirth
And you love high altitudes,
You still must come down to earth.

- 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

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

Give him a chance, people say.
Give Trump a chance; let go of fears.
The SAME chance Republicans gave
President Obama for the last eight years?

From the beginning Republicans
In Congress superciliously vowed
That President Obama would serve
Only one term. They felt so proud.

Pushing their petty partisan agenda
And blocking proposals with all their might,
They perfected the art of obstruction
And did it with insidious delight.

Calling the president a liar
And his birth certificate a fraud,
They displayed contempt for their leader
With reasoning that was greatly flawed.

It's dereliction of duty when
Republicans, the Party of NO,
Refuse to confirm a Supreme Court justice
With all their lame excuses in tow.

Flouting the very institutions
That normally make a democracy succeed,
Unethical members of Congress have
Only made our democracy bleed.

Their mindless obstruction, along with their
Unprecedented disrespect,
Is partly why we have a populist
Demagogue as president-elect.

NOW they say to give the next
President the respect that is due.
It doesn't work that way; they can't
Have their cake and eat it, too.

- by Bob B (11-17-16)

The young monks all stood around
In complete awe of the visiting priest,
Whose wisdom struck them as quite profound
And remarkable to say the least.
 
One monk with a curious endeavor
Wanted to stump the old sage,
Thinking his question extremely clever
For even a master of his age.
 
The monk said, “Master, can you please,
Since the time of your departure draws nigh,
Answer with your expertise:
What happens after we die?”
 
The young monks all felt dejected
When the priest said, “I do not know.”
Not hearing the answer they’d expected,
They let their bewilderment show.
 
“B...but...how can you say that?” they stammered.
“Don’t you—a wise teacher—know all?
We demand an answer!” they hammered.
The calm atmosphere turned to a squall.
 
The priest’s love had never decreased
For his students; he’d never misled one:
“Yes, for years I’ve been a priest—”
Then he added, “But never a dead one.”

- by Bob B