There was a leader who cried wolf
So often that he
Befuddled the people with whoppers running
The gamut from a to z.

The more he cried wolf, the more the leader's
Stories wouldn't stop.
He kept it up and everyone watched his
Approval ratings drop.

The group surrounding him joined in
And cried wolf as well.
In all of that country's history,
There was no parallel.

"Wolf! Wolf!" he'd cry, and his public
Ran to his defense
Again and again, totally
Defying common sense.

Eventually, more caught on;
Skepticism rose.
And fewer people let themselves
Be led around by the nose.

Whether or not the leader believed
His stories would empower him,
Wise folk knew that sooner or later
The truth would devour him.

-by Bob B (7-12-17)

The sheep at the ranch were all in a dither.
They had to decide on a leader, and two
Candidates who stood before them
Worked on persuading each ram and ewe

To vote for them to serve as leader.
Working together, succeed they would,
Said one. The other said that if any-
Body could save them, he alone could.

For some odd reason, the second sheep
Won to all the animals' surprise.
The wool was pulled right over their heads
As he continued to propagandize.

"Do not listen to what others say,"
The newly-elected leader declared.
"Evil wolves are out there to **** you."
He was able to keep the sheep scared.

Some atypical sheep were skeptics
And didn't believe the leader's baloney.
They more they heard the leader speak,
The more they thought the leader was phony.

"Something is terribly wrong," they said.
"The leader's garb seems off-kilter.
He cares NOT a jot about us;
What's more, he speaks without a filter."

Gradually, sheep disappeared.
Their whereabouts was a stumper.
Meanwhile, their leader became
Louder, bolder, meaner, and plumper.

The sheep then chose one of their own
To see if the leader had major flaws.
He noticed that under the leader's clothing,
The leader had not hooves but claws!

Many sheep refused to believe
Their ruler was phony and not on the level
And blindly followed the leader's commands,
Basically signing a pact with the devil.

Too late they learned the problem of choosing
A leader filled with distrust and loathing
Who didn’t have their best interests
At heart--in short, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Ah, poor sheep, if you had been
Careful not to have taken the bait,
You could have spared yourselves much trouble
Long before it became too late.

-by Bob B (12-18-17)

Donald Trump boasts about
A landslide victory in the recent election.
Trump and reality seem to be
Experiencing a disconnection.

Roughly 80,000 votes
Out of millions and millions cast
Determined the winner in the race,
And yet Trump keeps holding fast

To strange and absurd delusions of grandeur
And to a fancy on which he dotes
Regarding his "triumph" over Clinton
And the total number of winning votes.

Even though she received MORE
Than two point five million votes than he,
Eighty thousand in THREE swing states
Won him the presidency.

Eighty thousand. I repeat:
Eighty thousand. That's the size
Of a small Californian town.
That's all it took to win the prize.

As usual, Trump loves to ride
The glory train of Bombast and Bluster,
Refusing to acknowledge that
His victory is really lackluster.

- by Bob B (12-13-16)

You did it again, Senatorial
Democrats. How naïve!
You keep falling for the tricks
McConnell has up his sleeve.

Long ago a funding bill
Could easily have been sent--
One with bipartisan support--
To the president.

Republican leaders chose, however,
To play a game, and that's
How they let a shutdown occur
And then blame Democrats.

True, the president's wishy-washy
Feelings aren't always clear.
It doesn't help when bigoted voices
Are whispering in his ear--

Voices of Kelly, Steve Miller,
Iowan Steve King,
And Tom Cotton from Arkansas,
All with a racist sting.

And so for now the fate of the Dreamers
Is a question mark.
You think McConnell won't continue
To leave them in the dark?

McConnell waits--like Lucy with her football--
For you to run up and kick it.
Will you fall for the trick again,
Or tell him where to stick it?

-by Bob B (1-23-18)

Another claim, and it's a doozy.
This one's crossing new frontiers
Of paranoia and total insanity.
You'll hardly believe your very own ears.

Kellyanne CONjob is now saying
In all seriousness that they've
Determined that Donald Trump could have
Been spied on via a microwave!

There's no need for evidence
In our conspiracy theory society.
Just make up anything
And it can be the cause of anxiety.

Put the finest dress on a fib;
However, no matter how hard you try
To decorate and embellish it,
Your lie simply remains a lie.

Trump had better check his Sharpie.
Who knows? It might be bugged.
And just to be safe, his coffee maker
And blow-dryer should stay unplugged.

- by Bob B (3-13-17)

The current president's rhetoric is
A cause for great alarm.
His words have the potential to cause
Other people harm.

Now a woman in Congress is
The focus of his abuse.
Once again, for his behavior
There is no excuse.

According to Trump, the congresswoman
Doesn't understand
Real life; what's more she
Deserves a reprimand

For words he took out of context.
He placed those words beside
Images of 9/11,
When nearly 3,000 died.

In such tweets, the president
Exposes his usual role
Of being a cold, hate-mongering,
Vicious Internet troll.

Real life? Ilhan Omar
Fled Somalia when
A ****** civil war tore
The country apart, and then

She spent four years in Kenya
In a detention camp, waiting
To seek refuge in the U.S.,
Her hopes never abating.

She did not have wealthy parents
To pamper her with cash
And give her millions of dollars to
Make a societal splash.

Now she's getting death threats--
Something that's not rare
When people hear a president
Who really doesn't care.

It seems as though by hurting others
Is how Trump feels fulfilled--
As though he doesn't care if his words
Cause someone to be killed.

This exploitation of anti-Muslim
Sentiments has to stop.
We expect much more from
The person at the top.

-by Bob B (4-18-19)

If you practice unscrupulousness,
You will have it made--
As long as you can persevere
In keeping up the charade.

It's very helpful for cutting deals
To give yourself protection;
You'll also find that it comes in handy
For winning an election.

In order to throw the public off guard,
Employ tactics accusing
Others of opting for similar methods
That you yourself are using.

Some call it unscrupulousness;
Some say unscrupulosity.
Whatever the case, the practice requires
A sinister virtuosity.

Many politicians have
Embraced the concept with fervor
And have bamboozled many a slow,
Imperceptive observer.

Who needs to be honorable
When striving to succeed?
The end justifies the means
To those driven by greed

Or an unquenchable thirst for power.
All they have to do
Is bow to the god of unscrupulousness
And watch their wishes come true.

- by Bob B (12-16-16)

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

- by Bob B

What does Russia have on Trump?
A little? A lot? Nothing? Who knows?
Nevertheless, there are more questions
Than we can count on our fingers and toes.

Trump seems to have greater regard
For Putin--which is really bizarre--
Than he does for people here,
Which goes to show how crazy things are.

He thinks that he can allay
Our fears by sending out tweet after tweet.
Instead of making the man look stronger,
His messages make him look more effete.

We'll probably never know all the answers.
We'll never know the whys and wherefores,
The truth to faulty explanations
Behind the empty becauses and therefores.

We do know that something is fishy.
Trump's overreactions as such
Are revealing, to say the least.
Methinks he doth protest too much.

- by Bob B (1-14-16)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- by Bob B

In our world of computers along with
Hackers and scammers, be prepared
To discover that e-mail messages you wrote
And thought were private have been "shared."

You have a right to your own opinions,
But don't think that your code can't be cracked.
You'll be doing lots of damage control
Once your e-mail account has been hacked.

- by Bob B

Pseudo-scientific writings
Of two men named Strauss and Howe°
Talk about an existential
War that we are in right now.

It's called a war of the Fourth Turning,
And here's one thing the writings mention:
By aggravating societal pressures,
Leaders control the nation's attention.

Leadership will take measures
To assert public authority. (How nice!)
Then they will apply pressure
To demand public sacrifice.

An unexpected leader called
The Grey Champion will emerge--
A messianic strongman who'll
Lead the nation as allies merge.

It ought not to be so difficult
To see through this fiction, ought it?
However, the president's right hand man,
(Gulp!) Steve Bannon, bought it.

This is the "birth of a new political
Order," Bannon has said. What' more,
We're "in the top of the first inning."
He puts it this way: "We're at war!"

Expansionist China and radical Islam
Will bring about our defeat
Because the Judeo-Christian West,
Bannon adds, is in retreat.

He talks of dark days ahead.
Part of the apocalyptic plan
Has to do with being "reborn"
Or having to face the end of man.

Bannon has the president's ear!
It's really scary when buffoons
Are given top positions and power.
THIS GUY is ****** TUNES!

- by Bob B (2-11-17)

°William Strauss and Neil Howe

You are very likely to have
Remarkable intuition.
What makes you extremely nurturing
Is your caring disposition.

You react emotionally
To everything, but sometimes notions
Might be instrumental in making
You a prisoner of your emotions.

You are attached to home and hearth,
But it isn't at all bizarre
For you to make a comfy, *****
Atmosphere wherever you are.

Because you're apt to cling to the past,
Sometimes you will find it hard
To let go of things in your life.
You have to be on your guard:

If you are not careful, you'll
Find your life in complete disorder
When you're no longer the avid collector
But instead the consummate hoarder.

Even regarding relationships,
It's hard for you to let them go.
Once you've reconciled that issue,
You'll have reached a new plateau.

Your sensitivity
Reflects the circumstances around you.
Being needed and helping others,
Are two things that solidly ground you.

Emotional security
Is, of course, your principal goal.
Just don't stoop to manipulating
Others in order to be in control.

A strong will and determination
Guide you to help others in need.
But if you feel too insecure,
Criticism will make you bleed.

If you feel at all threatened,
Your ambitions will remain hidden
Until you're somewhat confident
That all threats have been overridden.

You are deeply concerned about
What other people think of you.
So building your self-confidence
Is one of the best things you can do.

Only when you are comfortable
Will you open up completely,
Although your guarded nature will
Tend to make you do it discreetly.

You love feeding family and guests
Even if you aren't the best cook.
You love to add your personal flair
And hate to always go by the book.

Since you absorb so many feelings
From your surroundings, you must retreat
To a quiet place at times;
If not, your engine will overheat.

Don't let your moods get out of hand,
And work on being more direct.
Then the world will be your oyster--
More so than you'd ever expect.

- by Bob B (6-14-17)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- by Bob B

They marched together; they marched strong,
With flags, signs, and banners waving.
They marched in sun, snow, and rain
To speak out for rights and causes worth saving.

The Women's March on Washington
Became a world phenomenon
Occurring on seven continents.
May the powerful memory live on!

Women, men, and children with
Determination undeterred
Peacefully rallied together,
Letting their mighty voices be heard.

Echoing through the cities' canyons
And filling city parks and squares,
Their voices loudly demanded that leaders
Listen to democracy's heirs.

When people's rights are under attack,
When greed-driven politicians
Bow to Wall Street and corporations,
Ignoring the struggling people's petitions,

The people then must raise their voices
And hope that their peaceful protest starts
A major shift in understanding--
A positive change in lawmakers' hearts.

The protesters clearly spoke:
We must protect democracy
From the threatening ravages
Of plutoc-, corpoc-, or kakistocracy.

They'll march again in 2018.
They'll march to show that it has never
Been more urgent, for now there are
More reasons to march than ever.

Onward, marchers. Don't give up.
You have a voice; let it ring
From east to west, from north to south.
Sing out, people! Sing! Sing!

(1-22-17, 1-13-18) By Bob B

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

"You want to make money? If that's true,
Have I got a proposition for you!
Sign up for my investment school.
Hesitating would be uncool.

"All my instructors will bestow
The best education on you. I know;
I picked them myself. They're tremendous.
My courses without a doubt are stupendous.

"What, you don't have money for food?
You won't get far with that attitude.
You can increase--it's not very hard--
The credit limit on your credit card!

"In fact, in order for you to buy
More seminars, we'll show you why
Obtaining and using more credit cards will
Build your self-worth. How's that for a thrill?

"To satisfy your innermost cravings
For elite courses, don't you have savings?
If courses require too large an amount
Of money, use your retirement account.

"For 35,000 dollars, behold:
A seminar-package that shines like gold.
Can't afford it? Come on, don't tarry.
Those words aren't part of my vocabulary.

"The bottom line is I will for sure
Make you a wealthy entrepreneur.
This is a pathway to wealth and success.
What we want from you is a "yes."

"I guarantee your life will be greater.
You know the drill: buy now, pay later.
All you have to do is sign
Right here on the dotted line."

- by Bob B

Sometimes we've known that something was going to be scary.
We could picture the outcome with growing ennui.
But once that something happened, it was more frightening
Than we had ever imagined it would be.

Sometimes we've known a storm would cause destruction.
At least that's what the forecasters could foresee.
The storm, however, turned out to be more disastrous
Than we had ever imagined it would be.

Sometimes we've known a disease was going to be deadly.
Hopes of survival brought no guarantee.
Struggling to survive was so much harder
Than we had ever imagined it would be.

Sometimes we've known a person was unstable,
But we couldn't perceive to what degree.
Later we learned that person was more deranged
Than we'd imagined him or her to be.

Sometimes we've known that fighting for our rights
And fighting to preserve democracy
Was going to be a battle more important
Than we had ever imagined it would be.

- by Bob B (2-20-17)

(This poem can be sung to the tune of "Little Brown Jug.")

"Me and Kim Jong Un are friends;
Me and him, we made amends.
He rules with an iron fist--
Something that I can't resist.

(Chorus)
"Ha, ha, ha! Can’t you see?
We are making history.
Ha, ha, ha! Look at me!
I just crossed the DMZ!

"North Koreans live in fear.
Many often disappear.
Kim knows how to make 'em cower.
That is how he keeps his power.

(Chorus)

"Let's watch him as he revamps
His political prison camps.
Torture's carried out inside;
He says torture's justified.

(Chorus)

"Ultimate power goes to Kim.
He decides your fate at whim.
Sure, a few unlucky ones
Were killed by anti-aircraft guns.

(Chorus)

"When discussions reconvene,
Watch his propaganda machine.
Speaking up is not worthwhile.
Good chance you won't get a trial.

(Chorus)

"People here are thin, which means
They must eat a lot of greens.
Kim Jong Un is--I must state--
The only one who's overweight.

(Chorus)

"So he might have used starvation
To teach a lesson to his nation.
As long as they all give him praise,
They will live to see more days.

(Chorus)

"This is what he's demonstrated:
Human rights are overrated.
Still, I love to fantasize
That I'll get the Nobel Prize.

"Ha, ha, ha! Can’t you see?
We are making history.
Ha, ha, ha! Look at me!
I just crossed the DMZ!"

-by Bob B (7-1-19)

A poor farmer had grown so old
That he could no longer work on his land.
He sat on the porch and watched his son work,
Assuming his son would understand.

However, the son, working the fields,
Occasionally would look at his dad
And think to himself, "He does nothing!
His uselessness is driving me mad!"

The son's frustration increased daily.
His selfish resentment wouldn't subside.
He gathered some wood, constructed a coffin,
And told his father to climb inside.

Dragging the coffin to the edge of a cliff,
He stopped when he heard a tapping sound
Coming from the lid, which
He removed and laid on the ground.

The father looked up at his son and said,
"Son, I'd like to avoid a tiff,
But it is obvious to me that you
Are going to throw me over the cliff.

"Throw me over the precipice.
That's odd behavior, but I'll excuse it.
But keep this beautiful, wooden coffin;
YOUR children might want to use it."

- by Bob B (3-1-17)

°An old tale retold here in verse

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

- by Bob B

Politics, O politics!
In life there is no simple fix.
In everything we do or say
Politics has a role to play.
 
When early man hung out in caves
And used crude tools and dug crude graves,
Someone had to take command
And maintain the upper hand.
Even the Neanderthals
Had cool paintings on their walls.
Who appointed the artiste?
Someone with some clout, at least.
Early humans had to spin
Their politics to get buy-in.
Organization was a necessity
When wild boar was their recipe.
Imagine cave meetings, if you can—
How they communicated man to man.
They’d just grunt and **** and such;
I guess men haven’t changed that much.
 
Under kings’ and emperors’ rule
You had to play politics, or you were a fool.
If you weren’t careful to watch what you said,
You could easily lose your head.
Men making rules had little regard
For the status of women, so it’s been hard
For women to earn their equal rights,
Which means lots of political fights.
That's politics at work; we know it!
If we're not vigilant, we can blow it.
In sports there’s a definite political tune,
And the church—especially—is not immune.
In every relationship, in each interaction,
In every connection, in each attraction,
Like it or not, politics will emerge;
If ideas don’t CON-, then they DIVERGE.
  
Frankly, it doesn’t matter whether
TWO or a MILLION people are together;
There’s no avoiding a political scene.
Human nature has a political mien.
We can talk local, county, state,
National or global politics. But wait!
What about the nature of politics in space?
It’s something to consider, just in case.
Some people have to play second fiddle.
If they're NOT at the top, they're bottom or middle.
Whether in the center, to the right, or to the left,
Hopefully, you don’t feel bereft.
If one side's right and the other side's wrong,
That’s okay; we can still get along.
As long as there are people, politics will never
Disappear; it will last forever.
 
Politics, O politics!
Always expect a bag of tricks.
Try, if you want, to wish it away;
Politics is here to stay.

- by Bob B

Environmental Protection Agency,
It's sad to see your cruel fate,
Brought about by someone who
Wants to make this country "great."

Since Donald Trump has been in office,
You are being obliterated
By the very industries
That you should have regulated.

Environmental regulations
Have been rolled back to such a degree
That consequences will be titanic,
And that is not hyperbole.

Lifting regulations to keep
Coal waste out of waterways
Is an unconscionable act,
Deserving of censure instead of praise.

Concerned voices of climate change
Researchers have been muted,
Even though among the majority
The phenomenon is undisputed.

Direct results from climate change
Are costing billions of dollars already
And add to making living conditions
On Earth all the more unsteady.

Your old title, EPA,
Has been replaced. Let us proclaim:
Environmental DESTRUCTION Agency
Is now a more appropriate name.

-by Bob B (11-9-17)

Come on, guys. Use your noggins.
Don't think you could never be at fault
For inappropriate ****** behavior,
Such as committing ****** assault.

Don't let your status go to your head.
Not everyone is on the same quest with you.
Don't let your power make you think
That everybody else is obsessed with you.

For one thing, keep your clothes on until
You are 100 percent aware
That the other person you are with
Is interested in seeing you bare.

And never at the workplace, of course,
Or in the office or at work functions.
And never if either one is married!
How could you do it and not have compunctions?

Do not let delusions of grandeur
Make others have to look askance.
What it boils down to is this:
Keep your peter inside your pants!

Now if you are absolutely sure
That someone else wants to see it--
At the appropriate place, of course--
Only then can you unzip and free it.

Don't give coworkers creepy *** toys.
That sounds super gross and perverse.
But then telling them how to use them?
No, no, that's even worse!

Suggestive language, forced kisses,
Grabbing them by the private parts…
That's where respectful behavior stops
And inappropriate behavior starts.

Do not make unwanted advances
And fire someone who doesn't respond.
Don't think you're an accomplished magician
Who makes things happen by waving his wand.

Stop this ****** assault and harassment;
Develop respect for others and stay with it.
Lascivious conduct is tasteless and wrong.
(Only the president can get away with it.)

-by Bob B (12-1-17)

In rural Georgia lived a loving
Man known as Robert Eads.
People with a heart as big as his
Are more of what this world needs.

Life has in store for us
A future we can never foretell.
As loving and kind as a person is,
That doesn't mean that all will go well.

In 1996, Robert
Found out he had ovarian cancer.
Ovarian? How could that be? you ask.
He was transgender--a simple answer.

Experiencing abdominal pain,
Robert knew he needed assistance.
But because of his gender identity,
The sick man met with careless resistance.

As Robert grew sicker and sought treatment,
More than a dozen doctors would meet him.
But fearing he'd make their practice look bad,
Those same doctors refused to treat him!

Shirking their responsibility,
Those doctors sealed Robert's fate.
By the time he found one who would help him,
The cancer had spread; it was too late.

A year of aggressive medical treatment,
Gave him time with those he'd befriended,
And time with family, until the day
In '99, when his life ended.

Robert had never understood
How people could be so cruel, and yet
He bore no hatred and took each day
As it came without blame or regret.

How he had loved his girlfriend, Lola--
A transgender woman and love of his life!
If he were still alive today,
I'm sure that they'd be husband and wife.

In Robert's memory, a pine tree was planted.
His ashes were scattered at the base of the tree.
How often in life people must struggle
To be the person that they must be!

- by Bob B

They marched together; they marched strong,
With flags, signs, and banners waving.
They marched in sun, snow, and rain
To speak out for rights and causes worth saving.

The Women's March on Washington
Became a world phenomenon
Occurring in seven continents.
May the powerful memory live on!

Women, men, and children with
Determination undeterred
Peacefully rallied together,
Letting their mighty voices be heard.

Echoing through the cities' canyons
And filling city parks and squares,
Their voices loudly demanded that leaders
Listen to democracy's heirs.

When people's rights are under attack,
When greed-driven politicians
Bow to Wall Street and corporations,
Ignoring the struggling people's petitions,

The people then must raise their voices
And hope that their peaceful protest starts
A major shift in understanding--
A positive change in lawmakers' hearts.

The protesters clearly spoke:
We must protect democracy
From the threatening ravages
Of plutoc-, corpoc-, or kakistocracy.

Onward, marchers. Don't give up.
You have a voice; let it ring
From east to west, from north to south.
Sing out, people! Sing! Sing!

- by Bob B (1-22-17)

He came home from the Middle East
A depressed and very different man,
After having served a tour
In Iraq and one in Afghanistan.

At one time an athlete with a hopeful future
And mentor to his cheering peers,
He struggled now to balance his memories
With the dismal, heavy weight of tears.

Tears that suddenly came from nowhere
Drenched his pillow. A panic would sweep
Through his body making him dread
The nights and the thought of falling asleep.

The outbursts of anger frightened him more;
They frightened his wife and children as well.
Avoidance and withdrawal only seemed
To aggravate his daily hell.

People and places constantly triggered
Painful memories of war and death.
Loud noises would send him through
The roof and make him gasp for breath.

Walking down a city street,
He'd have a flashback and quickly duck.
His heart would race until he gained
Control of his fears that had run amok.

The doctors diagnosed his condition:
Battle fatigue, or PTSD.
They had a list of remedies.
Of course, there was no guarantee.

Serotonin reuptake
Inhibitors failed to do the trick.
And tricyclic antidepressants
Made him feel listless and sick.

Tranquilizers and neuroleptics
Caused him to be more confused.
Prazosin and propranolol
Prescriptions both remained unused.

When the pills failed to help him,
Alcohol became his friend.
At least temporarily;
The haunting nightmares wouldn't end.

His family suffered along with him.
His friends slowly drifted away.
Who had time to spend with someone
Whose life was in such disarray?

His plaques and medals on his walls
Made his pain more acute.
His isolation made him feel
Emotionally destitute.

Cognitive behavior therapy!
That's what a doctor recommended.
The desperate man acquiesced.
He said he'd go, but just pretended.

He dropped the kids off at the sitter's,
Drove back home, texted his wife,
Held his pistol to his head,
Squeezed the trigger, and ended his life.

Six-year-old Stephen Romero,
An energetic, vibrant boy,
Was full of curiosity,
Gregariousness, life, and joy.

On Sunday morning, young Stephen
And mom were both unaware
Of what was going to happen to them
During their Sunday trip to the fair.

Keyla Salazar was called
"La luchadora"° by her dad.
The thirteen-year-old's smile was one
Of the greatest treasures her father had.

On Sunday morning, Keyla, too,
Was totally unaware
Of what she was going to encounter
During her fateful trip to the fair.

Trevor Irby, twenty-five,
Was getting ready to propose
To someone very special to him.
At least so the story goes.

On Sunday, Trevor, along with a friend,
Decided to spend a day at the fair.
Surely, they had no idea
What they were going to encounter there.

Nineteen-year-old Santino Legan,
For reasons hard to understand,
Went to the Gilroy Garlic Festival
On Sunday with his gun in hand.

There he took the lives of Stephen,
Keyla, and Trevor. More blood was shed:
Thirteen other people were injured
Before the police shot him dead.

Weep, America; weep for our youth,
Killed by messengers of hate
Because we cannot draw the line
At how much we can tolerate.

Weep, America; weep again
That access to weapons goes unchecked.
Weep for murdered ones whose lives
Our lawmakers are supposed to protect.

Weep for all of us, for we
Cannot feel safe anywhere:
At school, at work, at stores, at concerts,
At places of worship, or at a fair.

-by Bob B (8-1-19)

°the fighter

Summers at a South Dakotan lake
Were a constant delight.
My brothers and I--three young boys--
Lived each day outright.

Having been sent to stay with our grandparents,
We certainly didn't mind,
For every day was a new adventure;
We'd left our worries behind.

Mornings Gramp brewed our coffee--
He was the first to awake.
We drank it together as the morning sun
Shimmered on the lake.

He'd pour some coffee into his saucer,
Then lift it to take a sip.
I'd copy him and lift my own--
Mindful of my grip.

I'm sure I pestered him with questions.
He probably wanted to enjoy
The calm, peaceful summer mornings
Without a pesky boy.

But the loving man never complained;
The kindness showed in his eyes.
Those were special moments we shared
As we waited for the others to rise.

As soon as we could, we boys would dash
Outdoors to explore and play.
So many wondrous possibilities
And never a boring day!

My favorite activity was cowboys and Indians--
I got to wear feathers, you see.
I laugh when I look at photos of then;
We weren't very PC.

I don't know how I did it, but
We would catch frogs until
We had enough to cook frog legs
On a makeshift grill.

We also caught catfish, bullheads, and perch
As we fished off the pier;
Or we'd take the boat out on the lake
When the weather was clear.

Once when we were out on the water,
A summer storm approached.
We had to speed back to shore as dark,
Threatening clouds encroached.

Back at the house all hell broke loose
With lightning, thunder, and rain.
Gram feared a violent tornado,
Which was her constant bane.

She and I fearfully sat
By the cellar door and waited,
While Gramp snored away in his room
Until the storm abated.

When Gram and I weren't playing cards,
She would be making a feast.
In the kitchen she displayed her skills
As a culinary artiste.

I'll never forget her scrumptious cookies,
Rhubarb pies, and bread.
Needless to say, she saw to it
That we remained well-fed.

Gramp kept busy working on projects--
Building, maintaining, repairing.
Once in a while--to Gram's dismay--
We could hear Gramp swearing.

The days passed so gloriously by,
And it wasn't long before
Our parents set out for South Dakota
And suddenly appeared at our door.

Soon we left to visit more relatives
Before heading west.
Though we had left our childhood paradise,
We were wonderfully blessed.

Much older now, I'm more reflective
And still seeking wisdom and truth.
But I'll always cherish those glorious days
Of my carefree, golden youth.

- by Bob B

During Trump's campaign we saw
How very low the man could stoop
When it came to insulting any
Individual person or group.

The Gold Star family Khan, for example,
Received a heap of Trumpian abuse
As Trump blasted the family with
Insults, childish but profuse.

But even when Trump makes an attempt
To say the right thing, he still bumbles.
His team can pass him the ball, but then
The clueless president still fumbles.

He can have General Kelly
Speak in his defense, but then
On the next opportunity,
He'll stick his foot in his mouth again.

From someone in Trump's position we
Expect much more finesse, but alas!
In the meantime all we can do
Is say to ourselves, "This, too, will pass."

(10-20-17) By Bob B

Providing strength in diversity
And beautiful variety,
Like strands of gold woven into
The fabric of society,

Our Dreamers here greatly enrich
American communities.
How callous it would be to close
Doors to opportunities!

Their contributions to our country
Should NOT be disregarded,
Buried in forgetfulness,
Ignored, or even discarded.

They didn't come here on their own;
Their parents brought them here.
Whatever the reasons for the move,
One thing is clear:

Brought here at an early age,
They grew to look ahead
And now have fewer ties to
The countries that they fled.

You might be an American
Citizen, but do
You understand that Dreamers are
As American as you?

-by Bob B (8-30-17)

Sometimes Mother Nature *****!
But we can’t live without Her.
It behooves us to pay attention to
Her whims and learn about Her.
 
If it weren’t for Mother Nature
We would NOT be here.
Because of HER we can survive
In Earth’s atmosphere.
 
The indispensable light from Her sun
Helps vegetation grow
By allowing for photosynthesis
Here on Earth below.
 
Thermal energy from the sun
Causes evaporation,
Which in turn supports life on Earth
Through welcomed precipitation.
 
The soothing sun caressing the earth,
The gentle breezes and rains,
The towering peaks, the rolling hills,
The lakes, the rivers, the plains...
 
How beautiful Mother Nature can be!
But, oh, She has a dark side—
A sometimes wild and violent demeanor,
A harsh and extremely stark side.
 
Parched by fiery rays of the sun,
The earth suffers damage and drought;
Lakes and rivers and streams dry up,
And destructive fires break out.
 
Gentle breezes become tornadoes
And hurricanes in violent forms.
And lovely rains turn into torrents
And cataclysmic storms
 
That flood our cities and towns and fields,
Causing death and disease;
Then freezing temperatures sometimes follow—
Nature’s angry reprise.
 
Sometimes the ground upon which we live
Suddenly rolls and shakes,
Or spits out fire and volcanic ash
And creates hot lava lakes.
 
So often we have some wonderful moments
When nature can delight us;
But don’t forget there are snakes and mosquitoes
And other creatures that bite us.
 
Doubtless, Mother Nature deserves
Both our awe and respect.
Of course She’s fickle, but still She doesn’t
Deserve our abuse or neglect.
 
Her whimsical ways confuse and confound us,
But we have to cut her some slack.
Mess with Her and—oh, my goodness!—
With a vengeance She’ll strike back!

- by Bob B

Credible scientists
Agree, and it is quite concerning.
We are seeing destructive effects
Of global warming: Earth is burning.

Brazilian agri-business has been
Carelessly throwing fuel on the fire,
Destroying the "lungs" of our planet and making
The situation even more dire.

The Amazon's on fire right now.
Fires are taking a heavy toll
In places all around the world.
The conflagration is out of control.

As heat-trapping gasses are
Released into the atmosphere,
Glaciers melt and oceans grow warmer,
Making hurricanes more severe.

Between climate change deniers
And a warming earth, we're in the middle,
And as Earth burns our president
Watches while he plays his fiddle.

Now he wants to roll back restrictions,
Erasing rules on methane emissions.
Methane as a heat-trapping gas
Will only worsen climate conditions.

With all his environmental rollbacks,
There is NO silver lining.
He wants to open Alaskan national
Forests to logging, drilling, and mining.

If there is a method to damage our
Environment, he will employ it.
Rather than fight to protect our earth,
The president would rather destroy it!

With all the damage Trump is doing,
If anyone says on his behalf
That he's an environmentalist,
All we can say is, "That's a laugh!"

-by Bob B (8-30-19)

Tim Murphy° of Pennsylvania--
Proud of his anti-abortion stance
And long-time anti-abortion record--
Was caught doing a different dance:

Murphy's former mistress wonders
How the man has reconciled
His pro-life pretensions while also wanting
Her to abort their unborn child.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, Mr. Murphy.
But maybe the cloud has a silver lining
When you step down from your position,
For word is out that you're resigning.

Oh, you hypocrites! You love to decide
What's good for other people. How true!
But you do what you **** well choose,
For rules do NOT apply to you!

-by Bob B (10-6-17)

°Congressman from Pennsylvania's 18th District

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- by Bob B

My father's life ended twice:
First, on the day my mom passed away;
Next, when he took his last breath of air
Three months later to the day.

The year was 1998.
How long ago it seems! And yet
So many vivid memories
Make it a year I'll never forget.

Tangled up in straps and tubes
In ICU, my dad spent
His final month lying supine
While monitors beeped and tracked his descent.

Pneumonia for an emphysemic
Is not a kind and welcome friend.
A ventilator served as lungs
And breathed for Dad until the end.

A man who'd always loved ideas
And words, the poor guy had no choice:
Unable to speak because of equipment,
A pad of paper became his voice.

"You've got a strong heart," I said,
Trying to make his spirits rise.
"Too strong," he wrote. I looked away
So he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes.

While standing there, all I could see
Was a man who'd devoted many years
To serving others, challenging our brains,
Making us laugh, assuaging our fears.

I heard him reading us bedtime stories,
Correcting our grammar, playing word games,
Arguing politics with his friends,
Discussing Dickens, Hardy, and James.

I saw a man alone in a car,
Within the glow of a theater marquee,
Patiently waiting late at night
To pick up my friends and me.

I saw him working multiple jobs,
Fixing the plumbing, knocking down walls,
Remodeling the bathroom, and on the courts
Smacking the hell out of tennis *****.

Now in his deep blue eyes I could see
A question impossible to dismiss:
"Why after a life so full
Do we THEN have to end up like this?"

Any inkling of an answer
Was stifled with a grimace and frown
As death was tugging at his sleeve
And his body was slowly shutting down.

Life has bitter ironies
That we often bemoan or bewail.
We want to explain the inexplicable.
Our efforts are to no avail.

- by Bob B

Medicare and Social Security
Again are coming under attack.
Don't give Republicans
Who mess with the programs any slack.

Earned benefits are exactly
What most Americans want to preserve.
Whenever lamebrained politicians
Threaten them, they touch a nerve.

Fight, people; fight to keep
Necessary programs strong.
Don't let manipulating
Schemers con you and string you along.

When they blather on about vouchers
And privatization and drive you nuts,
Politely tell them to take their vouchers
And stuff them up their you-know-whats.

- by Bob B (11-15-16)

Floorboards creak; ceiling beams snap;
Walls crackle and pop.
Cold drafts chill me to the bone;
The shivers never stop.
I awaken at night to the sounds of moaning
That fill the house with grief.
An icy breath of anguish blows over me,
Allowing for little relief.
 
Lying awake, I wonder about
The cause of each eerie sound.
I’ll never know the answer unless
I take a look around.
Expansion, contraction, heat, cold:
A probable explanation;
But what explains the mournful moaning
That causes such consternation?
 
Feeling my way down the creaky stairs,
I shudder with coldness and fear—
Wanting to know but at the same time
Afraid of what might appear.
Silently standing at the base of the stairs,
I stare into the dark.
If asked how I felt, horror and dread
Would certainly hit the mark.
 
Groping the furniture, I sit on the sofa
And listen to the dead of the night;
I start to nod, then jump with a start,
Filled with panic and fright.
An amorphous figure appears before me—
Vague, undefined, obscure.
My fear turns into deep sadness,
Which is difficult to endure.
 
“Are you a spirit?” I whisper, and wait.
At first I have little success.
Finally, I hear a soft, sobbing sound—
A plaintive, fragile “Yes.”
Yeah, right, I think, a spirit that haunts
My house. Isn’t that cool?
Is this a joke—somebody’s trick?
Do they take me for a fool?
 
“What draws you here to my house,” I ask.
“What is this perverse
Penchant you have for creaking and moaning?”
The spirit replies, “It’s a curse.
Years ago I lived in this home.
My life was happy and free.
Everything was going my way.
Now look what’s happened to me.
 
“The world was in my hands; I had
Everything under control.
Nothing could get the best of me
Till death bells started to knoll.
No! I refused to succumb or give in;
Too hot were the fires
Of greed and longing and wanting and having—
Too powerful were my desires.
 
“Too late I realized my mistakes;
Too late, too late, too late.
I’m stuck here to play out all of my longings.
This is my cruel fate.”
It occurs to me to ask of its gender;
I am curious to hear it.
“Are you a man or woman,” I ask.
It laughs and says, “Just a spirit.”
 
“I’m sorry for your pain,” I say,
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” it answers, “it’s up to me;
I must see this through.”
“Obviously, you’re not,” I continue,
“As quiet as a mouse.
But could you be so kind as to haunt
Someone else’s house?”
 
“Aha! So you think that THIS is humorous!”
The spirit thunders with a roaring.
“I was here long before you arrived;
And YOU disturb ME with your snoring!”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and ponder what
Could be a possible solution.
One thing I know: these night-time visits
Are not good for my constitution.
 
“How about this? Let’s make a deal,”
I say. “You’re free to roam
As much as you want, and you can be loud
Whenever I’m not at home.
When I am here—asleep or awake—
So I can have peace of mind,
You be quiet and work on your karma,
If you’re so inclined.”
 
“Deal! You’ve got my UNDYING promise,”
It responds with a voice full and sunny.
I think to myself: Now it's the one
Who’s trying to be funny.
I yawn and say I’m going back to bed,
And I give the spirit my best
And hope that soon—VERY soon—
It finds eternal rest.
 
I often wonder if the gloomy spirit
Is still working its way
Through its torment, which I hope
Is being held at bay.
If I hear a creak or pop in the night,
Now peace and calm prevail;
I hope I’ve learned a lesson from my
Nocturnal visitor’s tale.

- by Bob B

Watch out, women! Across the country
Privileged white men are taking
Steps that will abolish for you
The right to your own decision-making.

Ah, these white, privileged men
Think that they are justified
In having complete control, as though
"The Handmaid's Tale" is their guide.

Something that isn't an easy decision
Will still not be yours to be made
If these white, privileged men
Continue to carry out their crusade.

If these privileged lawmakers
Get their way--just so you know--
And if you choose to defy their decree,
Off to prison you will go.

How these men love to decide
What you should or shouldn't do!
How these men love the power
To know what is best for you!

Once your rights are severely restricted
And these white men are on a roll,
Just watch as they then proceed
To tamper with your birth control.

Women all, be vigilant!
You must act before it's too late.
You'll be stripped of your rights. Is that
Something you will tolerate?

-by Bob B (5-10-19)

It's amazing how many people are not
Appalled by Trump's alternate reality,
Which is fed by political gibberish
That gives it a vitriolic vitality.

The man sees the world not as it is,
But only in how he can mold and shape it.
His main relationship with the earth
Is finding ways to plunder and **** it.

Scorning science and fact-based query,
He is more content to remain
In a protective shell of ignorance.
That's impossible to explain.

Alternative facts permeate
His psyche, leaving him out of touch
With truths that help the world progress.
To him such truths are only a crutch.

He's conned the people into believing
That corporations would never deceive them.
When he and his team make up stories,
Astonishingly, people believe them!

Political correctness to him
Is an obstacle in his path,
And anyone who points that out
Becomes the target of his wrath.

Paranoia underlies
His selfish motives and decisions.
Bizarre conspiracy theories color
Much of the content of his visions.

Compassion to him is strictly conditional
And given with expectations in mind.
Strict adherence to extreme notions
Has made him forget how to be kind.

His idea of greatness is really
A chimera that reiterates
A motto of separation: "We
The privileged of the United States."

- by Bob B (6-7-17)

They say a secluded monastery
High in the mountains was very strict.
How long a monk could withstand
The rigid rules was hard to predict.

Maintaining a vow of silence was part
Of the monastery protocol.
Every ten years the monks were allowed
To utter TWO WORDS. That was all.

After his first ten years, a monk
Went to his master and bowed his head.
His master asked to hear his two words.
"Bed…hard" was all that he said.

"I see," the head monk replied.
The young monk bowed, left the room,
And then returned to finish his tasks--
The grounds as silent as a tomb.

Ten years later the young monk appeared
At his master's door, eager to say
Two more words. "Food…stinks"
Was all that he could say that day.

"I see," the head monk replied.
Ten more long, silent years passed.
The no-longer young monk returned
To utter his words at long last.

This time he said, "I…quit!"
"Well," said the master with a look of disdain,
"I understand why you'd want to leave;
All you ever do is complain."

-by Bob B (3-6-18)

°A story (source unknown) often told in Zen Dharma talks, retold here in verse

Friedrich Trump… Heard of him?
Born in 1869
In a small town in Germany,
Not too far from the beautiful Rhine…

Grandfather of you know who…
Left home seeking fortune and glory…
Ran taverns and brothels in
Canada's Yukon Territory…

Returned to Europe in 1901
And found himself a German wife…
Skipped military service--
Who needs such a crimp in his life?--

By taking his wife to New York City…
When they returned to German soil,
News of the draft dodger reached
German officials and made their blood boil.

His actions also didn't sit well
With Prince Karl of Bavaria, who
Wanted Friedrich to be deported.
Friedrich's appeals to stay fell through.

On July 1, 1905,
The Trumps, having been told to scram,
Boarded a New York City-bound steamship.
If only they'd stayed in Germany! ****!

- by Bob B (12-6-16)

I met a turkey the other day
While on my daily walk.
Strange to say, his name was Tom;
And stranger, he could talk!

He wasn't in the greatest mood;
In fact, he looked downhearted.
"Feeling the holiday blues?" I asked.
He said, "Don't get me started.

"You would also be depressed
If you were a turkey
And people saw you as a meal
Or turned you into jerky."

He paused; "By any chance are you
A butcher or a grocer?
For if you are, you are NOT
Getting any closer."

I said, "No way!" to ease his mind.
"You don't have to worry."
When he tried to walk away,
I asked, "Now what's your hurry?"

"You know," he answered, "I'm in hiding--
At least until Thanksgiving.
To have to spend your days like this
Is not what I call living.

"Why are we the chosen ones
To grace your silly table?
It turns us into basket cases--
Neurotic and unstable.

"And don't say 'But your sacrifice:
Consider it an honor.'
I would rather live out my dreams
Instead of being a goner.

"Why not switch to tofu turkey?
They say it's not so bad.
You'd save a lot of lives and make
Many turkeys glad."

Giving him a chance to vent
Seemed to lift his mood.
I tried to be empathetic
And not see him as food.

Then he said, "You're going to think
That I'm a nasty fella,
But I think that it's super cool
When folks get salmonella.

"Sorry, but that happens to be
The only method that
We can use to get back at you;
I call it *** for tat.

But really, I must dash," he said,
And so I wished him well.
He waddled off to some safe place
As far as I could tell.

It really made me stop and think--
This unexpected meeting--
Whether I fully appreciate
The many things I'm eating.

My hope this year is simple: May
This one bird at least,
NOT be on the table when
I eat my holiday feast.

- by Bob B

A neighboring star in our galaxy,
Only eleven light-years away--
Which really isn't that far if you
Listen to what astronomers say--

Is called Ross 128.
It's a red dwarf--one among many.
You might know about such stars.
Frankly, I hadn’t heard about any.

Red dwarf stars are stars that are
Very similar to that one--
They are smaller in mass, dimmer,
And live much longer than our Sun.

Orbiting Ross 128
Is Ross 128-b,
A planet that resembles Earth--
At least very possibly.

How amazing it is to wonder
When looking across the great expanse
Of the universe, if other forms
Of life exist! What's the chance?

Some astronomers are elated;
Others aren't, for it's not known
If the planet happens to lie
In what we call the habitable zone.

But if it does, and if it has
Intelligent beings, let's hope they're
More intelligent than we are,
Or they haven't got a prayer.

By the way, current technology
Could get you to the planet, but here's
The problem: the trip would take at least
One hundred forty-one thousand years!

-by Bob B (11-17-17)

So ol' Pat Robertson kicked the bucket.
For him the bell has tolled.
He shouldn't complain; he lived to be
Ninety-three years old.

He used his power to galvanize
A staunch religious Right,
And nonsensical culture wars
Became his constant fight.

Having no problem whatsoever
Blending church and state,
Robertson used the media
To spread his platform of hate.

Feminism drove many women
To witchcraft--an evil path--
Robertson claimed, and earthquakes, he said,
Were caused by Jehovah's wrath.

One of his most wrongheaded statements--
Obnoxious in so many ways--
Was when he stated that 9/11
Attacks were caused by gays!

Dangerously incendiary
Statements to him were candy,
And lashing out at others became
His modus operandi.

Equating gays with Satanists
And Nazis--so malicious--
Robertson seemed so very obsessed
With gays. Highly suspicious!

I wonder if he'll realize NOW--
And I don’t mean to be snarky--
That much of what he spouted here
On Earth was full of malarkey.

-by Bob B (6-9-23)

Every morning when she awoke
From her nightly repose,
There upon her doorstep lay
A single, crimson rose--

A rose as fresh and as fragrant as any
She'd ever smelled or seen.
She put it in a vase each day,
Wondering, "What could this mean?

Is it a secret admirer? Or could it
Be a secret gawker?"
Then a thought occurred to her:
"I hope it's not a stalker!"

She tried waiting up all night;
Her vigilance was in vain.
Every morning a new rose appeared
Despite wind or rain.

She figured that a surveillance camera
Would clarify everything surely.
"But maybe it's better left unsolved,"
She said to herself demurely.

So on and on the mystery of the roses
Continued year after year.
She was curious as to how long her secret
Admirer could persevere.

One day her neighbors noticed a pile
Of roses at her door.
Something wasn't right, for that
Had never happened before.

They entered her home and what they found
Caused them all to start:
Their lifeless neighbor lay on her bed
With a red rose over her heart.

- by Bob B

"It's so much fun being president
Of a great country like this.
I love it when people sing my praises,
So everyone can share my bliss.

"I can do whatever I want.
The only ones who seem to obsess
About my activities are
What I call the dishonest press.

"My people don't give a ****
About my income tax returns.
My people have faith in me
And listen when I express my concerns.

"I can hire whoever I want.
And what's more I can require them
To pledge complete loyalty to me.
If they don't, I can fire them.

"You can gain so much support
If what you do when critics start pressing
Is cut off access to information.
Confuse 'em all and keep 'em guessing.

"When they bring up a Russia connection
And even suggest the word 'collusion,'
I distract them with tweet after tweet
To make a commotion and cause confusion.

"One of my favorite perks on the job
Is taking all of my paid vacations.
I also love having the power
To cut off any investigations.

"My business empire continues to grow.
Conflict of interest? Bah, that's bunk.
Don't believe it when the media
Say my approval ratings have shrunk.

"All of my success up to now
Adamantly underscores
One of my favorite sayings, and that's
'You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.'

"And when the people take you to court
For stiffing them or trying to ***** 'em,
Use your billions of dollars to pay
Lawyers to help you countersue 'em.

I love to have my fans in Congress
Eating out of the palm of my hand.
We have to merely yell, 'Fake news!'
When something doesn't go as planned.

"Regarding international affairs,
They say I'm awkward and not well versed.
It isn't about the rest of the world;
It's all about America first!

"Any group that gives me money,
Gets my support all the way--
From dangerous climate change deniers
To all my friends at the NRA.

"When my critics complain about
Anything I say or do,
I love to go on TV and say,
'I'M the president; not you.'"

-by Bob B (7-5-17)

This is a tale of a woman;
Stormy is her name.
One little fling with a fellow
Became her claim to fame.

She met a rich man in Tahoe.
He was married. So what?
It seems as though the rich golfer
Was there to do more than putt.

Stormy, the **** star, was
A wonder to behold.
He forgot about wifey
And baby a few months old.

(The little affaire de coeur
Doesn't mean that he's bad.
Some say he was bewitched;
Others would call him a cad.)

How long everything lasted,
Only the two will tell.
She claims it lasted for months
Before he said farewell.

Let's move ahead ten years.
The real estate mogul planned
To procure for himself the highest
Office in the land.

Somehow the mogul's attorney
Transferred a large amount--
One hundred thirty thousand--
Into her bank account.

'Twas money to keep her quiet--
Money to make her hush.
(When you've got money, you
Can afford to make people shush.)

The mogul became the leader;
But somehow the story leaked out.
Leader and lawyer were livid.
What had become of their clout?

A technicality
Nullified their deal--
According to Stormy's attorney--
So she had the right to squeal.

Both of the parties can now
Battle it out in court.
Let this be a lesson
Before you choose to cavort.

Just a warning, Stormy:
Don't let yourself get burnt.
Your episode was consensual;
It's said that for him others weren't.

We know, Mr. President,
You have a lot on your plate.
Is this one of your ways
Of making America great?

-by Bob B (3-9-18)

°This is a different version of the salacious scandal--this time in ballad form.

Trump just doesn't understand
Why some people are so upset
That he was elected president.
But there is one thing he mustn't forget:

More voted AGAINST him than FOR him;
He didn't win the popular vote.
Thus, he didn't receive a mandate
And doesn't deserve the right to gloat.

Wrapped in smugness, he doesn't see
The reason people protest the election.
A person who spewed so much hatred won!
THAT is the cause of people's objection.

He also fails to grasp why supporters
Commit violent acts in his name.
After he started a fire of bigotry,
Others continue to fan the flame.

Conveniently, he overlooks
The fact that his ugly campaign
Singled out scapegoats, and caused  a flurry
Of blame and attacks hard to restrain.

It doesn't work to claim innocence.
It doesn't work to feign surprise.
After a campaign trail of untruths,
We'd like to see him dispense with his lies.

If he plans to be president for all
He's going to have to change his tune
And stop barking up the wrong tree--
Stop howling at the moon.

- by Bob B (11-14-16)

Watch out! They say they represent
Your likes, your wants, your needs.
Their spurious reasoning sounds convincing;
So what if it misleads.

They claim they're looking out for you--
Protecting your freedom to choose.
Yet they're investing elsewhere, thus,
Protecting your freedom to lose.

Their highfalutin promises
Of justice, pride, and respect
Are cheap façades that cover up
Exploitative neglect.

They boast their record, sing their own praises--
Right before your eyes.
They hope you don't discover that
It's all a pack of lies.

They'll trick you into seeing others
With fearful suspicion and loathing.
Watch out! Beware! Be on your guard
For sly wolves in sheep's clothing.

- by Bob B

Arrested insurrectionists
Are being called by some on the right
"Political prisoners." It seems
That reason and sense have taken flight.

People who are out to hurt
Others and who are inciting fear
Are being called "patriots"!
My goodness! What is happening here?

Elected officials across the country
Are being threatened by the "mob"
For doing what is required of them--
For merely carrying out their job.

Health officials are also threatened
For doing what is expected of them--
For saving lives. How could that
Be something that people would condemn?

From many far-right extremists we're seeing
Violence being normalized,
The effect of which is rapidly causing
The country to be more polarized.

Odious thugs are recruiting thugs.
Election results are constantly being
Questioned for NO legitimate reasons!
It's hard to believe what we are seeing.

And organizers are padding their pockets
While they peddle misinformation.
Threatening our democracy,
They chip away at its very foundation.

What is happening resembles
That which happens when autocrats flower--
When violent thugs pave the way
For fascist leaders to rise to power.

-by Bob B (9-18-21)