The king of cover-up is at it again,
Downplaying financial ties
And close connections with other countries,
Especially when questions arise.

First it was with Putin and Russia.
How much collusion remains to be seen.
Conspiracy in election meddling?
Whitewashing is now routine.

And then there was the hush-money
To cover-up some hanky-panky.
Dissimulation's easy when
You've got money in the banky.

It looks as though you must deny
And try to hide actions you rue,
But calling your fling "horse face," is that
A gentlemanly thing to do?

Now the cover-up deals with the Saudis--
With the crown prince and the Saudi king.
Denial…admittance…rogue players…
It has such a familiar ring.

After bragging over and over
About the millions of dollars he's made
From wealthy Saudis, his words are now
Exploding like a hand grenade.

When the leader has conflicts of interest,
Critics, pundits, and others who know
Where his interests really lie,
Shrug and say, "We told you so!"

He says he has a "natural instinct
For science." Isn't THAT a joke!
I wish his "natural instinct" was for
Telling the truth whenever he spoke.

-by Bob B (10-18-18)

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

- by Bob B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- by Bob B

Lower the flag to half-staff.
Sing out loudly. Repeat the refrain:
Let us honor the legacy
And life of Senator John McCain.

McCain was the son and grandson of navy
Admirals. In his wild past he
Garnered a nickname from fellow students
Due to his cockiness: McNasty.

Later McCain's cockiness
Transformed into pluck, resolve, and verve.
Following in his father's footsteps,
He, too, decided to serve.

McCain proved that he could succeed
Despite not being at the top of his class.
Though he was fifth from the bottom at the
Academy, he would still pass.

Off to Southeast Asia he went.
On one mission while trying to destroy
A power plant, his plane was shot down
Over the skies of central Hanoi.

Captured, brutally beaten, and tortured,
McCain spent over 2,000 days
At the "Hanoi Hilton"--not what he
Would call in life his happiest phase.

Released in 1973
And broken in body but not in spirit,
He'd serve his country in other ways.
Life gets you down only if you fear it.

Elected to the House in '82
And then to the Senate in '86,
McCain wanted to make a difference
By throwing himself into politics.

In his first run for president,
A smear campaign did him in.
He tried again in 2008,
But again he wasn't meant to win.

A "maverick" they called McCain.
He didn't seek glory, fame, or applause.
Fighting for causes larger than himself
Was truly fighting for a real cause.

Many a politician on both
The right and left would admit to be a fan
Of John McCain. One didn't have to
Agree with him to respect the man.

Not afraid to admit his mistakes,
And though often called a hawk,
McCain came around to admit his error
In having supported the war in Iraq.

He'd also call out the president
If the leader abused his power
Or acted in ways that he considered
Unseemly. McCain would never cower.

McCain was also quick to forgive.
Note his efforts: for peace to thrive,
He pressed to restore relations with
Vietnam in '95.

"We need to learn the lessons of history,"
McCain declared. He also detested
Hearing the media called the enemy.
When he heard that, he protested.

Although he called himself an "imperfect
Public servant," McCain had style.
Not afraid to compromise,
He reached out to colleagues across the aisle.

The "joyful warrior" and "lion of the Senate"
Lived with dignity and honor, and not
Like some people in power to whom
Such qualities are an afterthought.

John McCain's battles in life
And challenges would never cease
Until he succumbed to a brain tumor.
May he now rest in peace!

Lower the flag to half-staff.
Sing out loudly. Repeat the refrain:
Let us honor the legacy
And life of Senator John McCain.

-by Bob B (8-28-18)

One day a wealthy father
Decides that it is time to give
His privileged son a lesson on
How the poor actually live.

After spending a day and a night
On a poor, humble farm with his son,
The father asks on the drive home,
"How was your stay? Did you have fun?"

"Oh, yes indeed," says the son.
"They're very poor. Did you see?"
Asks the father. The son nods,
Having no reason to disagree.

The father continues: "Tell me what
You learned about being poor."
The son thinks and says, "We
Have only ONE dog; they have FOUR.

"In our garden, we have a fountain;
They have an endless stream that runs by.
Our garden has boring lamps;
They have all the stars in the sky.

"Our property stops at our fence.
To see beyond the garden is hard.
For them, on the other hand,
The entire horizon is their backyard."

The father doesn't know what to say.
Smiling from across the car,
The son says, "Thank you so much, Dad,
For showing me how poor we are."

- by Bob B (10-23-17)

°A popular tale retold here in verse

Trump and his lawyers had better shut up
If they want to win his case.
They're digging a deeper grave each day
In efforts to try to stir up Trump's base.

Every time Trump opens his mouth
He sticks his foot deeper inside.
He lies to justify his actions,
But facts are something from which he can't hide.

We have the videos, speeches, and tweets,
In which Trump makes his intentions clear.
Will he keep pushing the envelope
As the upcoming trials draw near?

"Most Republicans act like weak jerks,"
Says Trump, as he goes after his own.
Nothing or no one is sacred to him;
He can't even leave his supporters alone.

They have to "get tough" and "fight fire with fire,"
He says. The man cannot keep quiet.
It's almost as though he's intent upon
Instigating another riot.

Trump has been admonished to watch
His words and actions before his trial.
Is that even possible
For someone like him who lives in denial?

Will he attempt to cooperate?
Most likely he will try to derail
Our system of justice. We will see.
Maybe he'll blow it and end up in jail.

-by Bob B (8-5-23)

A lion, a fox, and an *** went hunting.
Then they had to divide the *****.
The *** was very pleased that the lion
Had conferred on him the duty.

The *** divided the ***** into
Three equal portions. He was quick!
Then he turned to the other two
And calmly said, "Take your pick."

Immediately, the lion pounced
Upon the *** and tore him to pieces.
(I guess the *** was rather naïve
And oblivious to lions' caprices.)

The fox, having observed the scene
And knowing the proper protocol,
Divided the ***** into TWO portions--
One was large; the other was small.

"Ah!" said the lion. "That is perfect.
How did you ever get so smart?"
"I watched what happened to the ***,"
Replied the fox, "and took it to heart."

From the fable we can learn
That we do NOT need to wear glasses
To see that we can learn from others'
Misfortunes, even if they are *****.

But there is still a little matter
About the fable that's hard to ignore:
Why would an *** hunt with a lion?
Since when was a donkey a carnivore?

-by Bob B (9-15-21)

°An Aesop fable, "The Lion, The Fox, and the ***," retold here in verse

While wandering through the forest one day
A lion chanced upon
What he hoped would be his dinner--
A young, injured fawn.

A bear approached who also had
The same idea in mind.
He was starving, for it had been
Some time since he had dined.

Both of them battled fiercely,
Clawing, scratching, biting.
Ultimately, the two became
Exhausted from the fighting.

They lay on the ground severely wounded
And trying to catch their breath,
Realizing how much effort
It took to fight to the death.

A fox had been observing the scene
From not too far away.
Jumping for joy, he said to himself,
"This is my lucky day!"

Too weak to move, the lion and bear
Watched in disbelief
While the fox ran off with fawn
In his mouth. The little thief!

The weary fighters agreed that they
Had been extremely unwise:
All that time they had spent fighting
And the fox ran off with the prize!

Moral? Some work very hard
And never receive acclaim,
While others receive the credit and profit.
What a rotten shame!

-by Bob B (8-26-21)

°An Aesop fable retold here in verse

She sits on the cliff high above us
And combs her soft flaxen hair.
Too many heed not the warnings
That urge us all to beware.

Her golden demeanor’s bewitching,
Her true intentions disguised.
Her radiance dazzles the viewer.
Onlookers stare, mesmerized.

Mellifluous sounds fill the canyons
And fill the heart with desire.
The Lorelei leaves you defenseless;
Nothing can put out the fire.

Vigilance dissipates quickly.
The sailor far too late learns
That carelessness leads to disaster.
The river has dangerous turns.

Sailors, beware of distractions.
Watch out for dangers that loom.
Don't be beguiled by enticements
That beckon you to your doom.

-by Bob B (7-26-19)

The voice of money keeps growing louder,
Which gives the rich a cause to rejoice.
In large amounts, money talks:
The more you have, the louder your voice.
 
The louder the voice, the greater the power—
Power to flaunt or throw around,
And power to affect and to buy elections,
Which seems unethical and highly unsound.
 
With more power comes more control—
More arrangements with the upper crust
To exert influence into putting through laws
With no concern if they’re fair or just.
 
We’ve seen that with money comes freedom of speech;
Your freedom increases with the amount you possess.
It’s a horrible thing for a democracy
When money is used to stifle and suppress.
 
They say that money can’t buy love,
But when you’ve got millions, who really needs it?
The ego becomes much more important;
Watch it grow as money feeds it.
 
There are other things that money can’t buy:
It can’t buy compassion or a caring heart.
Our nation thrives on ideas and values,
But money plays the largest part.
 
Songs say love makes the world go round;
It’s money that makes it go round in reality.
Whatever fails to make a profit
Is useless for its lack of practicality.

- by Bob B

The Cult of Trump does NOT want all
Americans to vote UNLESS
They cast their vote for a certain person.
Who do you think that could be? GUESS!

WHAT they're saying is IF Trump doesn't
Win the election this fall, by God!
That means the whole election was rigged
Because of rampant voter fraud!

There's NO evidence whatsoever
Of massive voter fraud, and yet
Trumplicans are spreading the lie
That it is a major threat.

Immigrants who happen to be
Undocumented, they say,
Are registering to vote in hordes.
That's NOT occurring, by the way.

Spreading such vile misinformation
Is devious and downright wrong.
And yet election deniers continue
To keep on singing the same old song.

Now they're saying that President Biden
Is encouraging people to vote
Who aren't American citizens!
Another lie they want to promote.

Sowing distrust in our elections
Is one of their underhanded goals:
Jim Crow-era strategies
To keep Americans from the polls.

When people have to cheat to win,
Have they no decency? Have they no shame?
How sad for the country to see so many
People playing the Lying Game!

-by Bob B (9-5-24)

Years ago we threw off the shackles
Of tyranny and built a nation
(Though sadly the previous occupants
Suffered loss and deprivation).

We refused to pledge allegiance
To any king; those days were past.
We created a democratic
System that we thought would last.

But that has changed. The king is back.
Has history ever seen such a thing:
When the fool--or the court jester--
Slipped into the role of king?

It's Mad King Donald who has become
The absolute ruler of this land.
His lackeys lavish him with praise
And blindly obey his every command.

The king has become darker, crueler,
And more unstable than ever before.
His rude, sadistic, impulsive actions
Give us the people so much to deplore.

Weaponizing information,
Lying to us about our borders,
Repeating Kremlin propaganda,
Disobeying judicial orders,

Banishing people to other countries,
Not caring about our health,
Causing economic chaos,
Caring only about his wealth,

Completely distorting reality,
And having no empathy, he's the result
Of what happens when millions of people
Join a personality cult.

He thinks he has complete power
And no one can tell him what to do.
Bring up truth or reason with him,
And you'll be told "To hell with you!"

The tyranny in America
Could end if people gave their all.
Folks all over the world are watching
And waiting for Mad King Donald to fall.

-by Bob B (4-23-25)

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 teacher calmly sat in the dojo,
Waiting for his class to begin.
Seated on his cushion, he silently
Focused on the center within.

A student rushed into the building,
Stopped and gave a cursory bow,
And said, "Teacher, my goal has not
Been very clear to me until now.

"I want to master the martial arts.
What can I do to get there faster?
How many years does it take
A person like me to become a master?"

"Ten years," replied the teacher.
"Ten years? That can't be!"
The student exclaimed. "But I'll work hard--
Ten long hours a day! You'll see.

"If I practice and read and study
And work harder than all my peers,
How long then?" After a moment
The teacher replied, "Twenty years."

-by Bob B (2-28-17)

°An old tale retold here in verse

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

After having milked the cows,
The farmer's daughter returned to the dairy,
Carrying the large pail of milk
On her head, which was customary.

As she walked along the path,
She gleefully started to fantasize
About the wonderful things she could do
If she could keep her eyes on the prize.

"From the cream I'll make some butter,
Which I'll take to the market to sell.
I'll buy some eggs, from which I'll get
Some chickens and then some more eggs as well.

"Those eggs will hatch and soon I'll have
Dozens of fowls in my poultry yard.
Later, I will sell some of them
And make some money. That SHOULDN'T be hard.

"I'll buy a dress to wear to the fair.
The boys will stare, but I will ignore them.
I'll stick my nose up high in the air
And toss my head and pretend I deplore them."

Having forgotten all about
The pail, the milkmaid tossed her head.
Down went the pail. It crashed on the ground,
The milk spilled out, and her dreams were dead.

Hopefully, she learned her lesson.
In life--it seems--there's always a catch.
It's nice to have dreams, but do remember:
Don't count your chickens before they hatch.

Another moral: always be mindful.
If there's a distraction, try to forgo it.
When doing a task, all it takes
Is one false move, and you can blow it.

-by Bob B (9-8-21)

°An Aesop fable retold here in verse

Once there was a mischievous dog
That thought it was so fun
To bark at and snap at people--in short,
To torment everyone.

He was such a nuisance that
His master had had enough.
"I am going to fix him," he said.
"If HE doesn't like it, tough!"

And so he fastened a bell around
His dog's neck that morning
So people who were near would hear it,
And it would serve as a warning.

The dog was oh so proud of his bell
And had an odd reaction.
To hear it jingle, he strutted around
With utmost satisfaction.

An old dog approached and said,
"Please don't put on airs.
I see this situation has
Caught you unawares.

"I think you need to know the truth,
And so I'll cut to the chase.
The bell is not a reward, my friend;
It's a badge of disgrace."

The moral: sometimes we wrongly feel
Pride instead of shame
When it's notoriety
That we mistake for fame.

-by Bob B (8-10-21)

°An Aesop fable retold here in verse

Interestingly, it seems that Kentucky
Enjoys incredible satisfaction
In boasting the Ark Encounter, which is
A strange and bizarre tourist attraction.

Noah’s Ark--an allegory--
Is presented as history.
That folks believe the pseudoscience
Involved is a total mystery.

Misleading information awaits
People who choose to visit the park.
For example, replicas
Of dinosaurs are on the ark!

The park's creator believes that Earth
Really isn't so very old--
Only around 6,000 years.
He tries to prove it, so I am told.

What he's doing is misleading folks--
Brainwashing kids, or so it appears.
Dinosaurs predated human
Beings by millions and millions of years!

The structure itself might be amazing--
A massive work of art. Who knows?
But being something described in a popular
Tale is about as far as it goes.

The story of Noah is interesting;
However, depicting it as fact
Is an inaccurate practice, which
By logic and reason cannot be backed.

-by Bob B (10-30-23)

The missionary wiped the sweat
That formed small beads on his sunburnt brow.
Never had he thought that learning
A language would be so hard till now.

But learning a language and studying a culture
So very different from his own,
Deep in the Amazonian jungle--
A damp and brutal climate zone--

Were challenges that he was eager
Because of his Christian faith to accept,
Even though he had to watch out
For poisonous creatures wherever he stepped.

His goal: to learn the language there
In order to translate the Holy Bible
So he could teach the truth as he knew it
To various peoples, godless and tribal.

His dual role as a servant of God
And graduate student studying linguistics
Opened his mind and heart to embrace
The people's diverse characteristics.

Constant threats were jaguars, insects,
And anacondas in the river,
Along with shifty river pilots
Transporting goods to trade or deliver.

After years of being there
And putting up with a bare subsistence,
He pondered why his ideas among
The people were met with such resistance.

Occurring to him suddenly
As an epiphany, he had to face
The fact that maybe he had been
Peddling his goods in the wrong place.

Why did he need to fix the people?
They were fine just as they were.
If he tried to change their beautiful
Way of life, what would occur?

They had faith in themselves and lived
Without worry, fear, or despair.
He was imposing his own concept
Of truth on them. How unfair!

Questioning his own ideas,
He clarified his own confusion
And saw that life without absolutes
Was one way to see through delusion.

How ironic! He'd gone to Brazil
With good intentions, though smug and prim,
To try to convert the people there;
They, however, converted him.

-by Bob B (12-3-17)

°Inspired by the experiences of Daniel L. Everett

The mission graveyard was peaceful and calm.
Sporadic gravestones and crosses marked
The final resting places of some
Who for some reason had embarked
 
On a new journey--a new phase--
A final, unavoidable transition.
Their remains still sleep, I hope undisturbed
By visitors at the sleepy mission.
 
Swaying in the gentle breeze,
The olive trees wistfully cast
Their shadows on the neglected sod
And on the graves that we wandered past.
 
Reading the carved inscriptions on the gravestones
Brought so many questions to mind:
Who were the people buried here?
Whom did they sadly leave behind?
 
Were they rich or were they poor?
Was their life easy or hard?
Was it pestilence, age, or violence
That brought them here to sleep in this yard?
 
My glance fell upon a simple stone.
I couldn't help but think that maybe
Some people's lives had been torn apart;
Carved in the gravestone was one word: Baby.
 
Oh, Life and Death, you keep us wondering.
No matter how much we people yearn
To second-guess you, you surprise us
And deliver us to the grave or urn.

- by Bob B

A mob boss for president…
Yikes! That's what we've got--
One who profits from crime
Without a second thought;

Who keeps his family close by;
Who's close to each paisano;
Who looks less like a Lincoln,
And more like Tony Soprano;

Who praises convicted felons,
And pardons them as well;
Who cares less about country
And more about his cartel.

Loyalty is his mantra.
His underlings owe him all.
He sounds like a mobster when
His back's against the wall.

He'll rip you a new one if
You ever decide to flip
And prove that you're a rat,
Or try to give him the slip.

"Flipping should be illegal,"
He brazenly repeats.
Without it he knows there'd be
More crooks on the streets.

A power-hungry bully:
It's his goal to be one.
Listen to his rhetoric:
"I know a rat when I see one."

His fixer threatens reporters
And does the boss's bidding.
But when he seeks revenge,
The boss isn't kidding!

Driven by ambition,
Egomania and greed,
He lets mob ethics guide him
To always take the lead.

He's the kind of guy
You read about in books.
Watch how he surrounds
Himself with other crooks.

Those who cooperate
With law enforcement will find
That he retaliates
If ever he's maligned.

Top decision maker,
He gets such a thrill
Promoting or demoting
Anyone at will.

Having a no-good mob boss
As leader strikes a nerve
Because it's hard to accept
That that's what we deserve.

-by Bob B (8-25-18)

Seven point three billion people
On Earth. Yes, that's a lot.
By 2050 that number should swell
By a third. Scary thought!

India's population--they say--
Should surpass China's, AND
Poverty shall increase and food
And water will be in demand.

All of these numbers--all of these babies:
Maybe the people who've spawned 'em
Ought to learn to appreciate
The value of the ******.

- by Bob B

Two men stopped by a Zen temple
To speak with the temple master, who
They hoped would eagerly share with them
His honest and expert point of view.

The first man said, "I think I want
To move to the local town, so please
Tell me what the town is like.
That will put my mind at ease."

The master responded, "Tell ME about
Your current town. How would you rate it?"
"Ugh!" the man replied. "The people
There are mean and hateful. I hate it!"

The master listened calmly, and then
Shaking his head, he said, "It's clear
From what you have been telling me
That you would also hate it here."

The man bowed and left the room.
The second man entered the room and sat.
He also inquired about the town
And the surrounding habitat.

"Tell me about your current town,"
The master said with a smile on his face.
"The people are nice," the man replied.
"It's a truly wonderful place."

"Ah!" the master exclaimed. "Then from
What you're telling me, I can tell
That you without a doubt are going
To love the local town as well."

-by Bob B (3-3-21)

°An old Zen anecdote retold here in verse

Last December we saw that Santa
Had a FOR SALE sign on his "land."
Reporters went to find out whether
His property had been in demand.

"Well," said Santa, "I've had offers
From large fishing enterprises
Who want to move in and take advantage
As the ice melts and the sea rises."

The companies applied great pressure
To make Santa cave; instead he
Declined their offers, for overfishing
Had been a problem there already.

"Oil companies also want
My property in order to drill.
I told them, 'Over my dead body!'
Holy crap, if looks could ****!

"Once I thought that I could make
This work, but that was wishful thinking.
How could I survive up here
With animals dying and my land shrinking?

"Where there's tundra melting, methane
Gas is escaping into the air.
Rats from ships have entered the area;
You can find them everywhere.

"Sea currents and air currents
Both are bringing ugly pollution.
When are world leaders going to
Come up with a lasting solution?

"We are far away from large
Human populations, and yet
Our whole Arctic ecosystem
Is dangerously under threat."

Reporters noticed a weary look
Of sadness in Santa's face, which proved
That things were really affecting the man.
Where would he go if he moved?

"I thought that maybe in Switzerland
A nice, cold glacier would do.
But then again, maybe not,
For glaciers there are melting, too.

"Maybe Hawaii; maybe Tahiti.
That would be a change of scene.
I'll trade the slushy, melting ice
For somewhere colorful, warm, and green."

With that, Santa looked at his watch,
Said good-bye, and went back to work,
Trying hard to keep his thoughts
Away from places where phantoms lurk.

-by Bob B (12-9-17)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-by Bob B (8-21-18)

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

I remember when I was a youth
How consoling it was to know
That I had little to worry about.
Ah, but that was long ago.

If, perchance, the roof had a leak,
Dad would be up there in a flash
To find the problem, and once he did,
Off to the hardware store he would dash.

Electrical trouble? He had it down.
Plumbing issues? No problem at all.
He examined the situations,
Addressing the problems large and small.

If my mom wanted a door
Moved from one wall to another,
My dad got out the sledgehammer.
Anything to please my mother.

Carpentry was not his thing.
That is where he came up short.
Intellectual creativity
Was his passion, his love, his forte.

My mom was super organized
And ready for any circumstance.
She handled the bills, managed the home,
And planned our meals weeks in advance.

Multi-talented she was!
She cooked and baked, knocked down fences,
Gardened, and kept us kids in line.
Discipline meant consequences.

She even managed to work for a store
As a bookkeeper. We always knew
That everything was under control,
Though we were far from well-to-do.

We kids all had our weekly chores,
Which we begrudgingly did, of course.
However, the way my folks made us feel
Safe and secure was a tour de force.

Life is very different now.
There's no way that I can repair
Leaky roofs, wiring, or plumbing.
I couldn't even on a dare.

I know how to call an electrician,
Plumber, roofer--anyone
To handle concerns at which I'm inept.
I want repairs correctly done.

But every so often I catch myself
Being at peace in my childhood room,
Thinking that all was well with the world
And having no thoughts of doom or gloom.

Young and naïve, all I knew
Was my little world, safe and secure.
Threats to that tranquility
Were imperceptible, obscure.

Little did I know at the time
That life for others wasn't so sweet,
That some lacked food and shelter and had
Difficulty making ends meet,

That some were caught in the middle of clashing
Armies, that innocent people were dying,
That people struggled for rights and freedom,
That life for some was horrifying.

Naïveté and complacency--
As comfortable as they might seem--
Can insulate us from world problems
As though we're living in a dream,

One from which we must awaken.
And when we do, we have to decide
Whether we'll work to better the world
Or stay in our comfy cocoon and hide.

-by Bob B (5-19-24)

Republicans used to believe
That democratic values will win.
Lately, however, they sing a new tune:
To hell with democracy; save your skin!

Power is what excites them now.
"Voter fraud!" is what they spin.
Voter suppression's their goal as they cry:
To hell with democracy; save your skin!

McCarthy and McConnell knew
The mess that Donald Trump was in,
And yet they chose to honor the motto:
To hell with democracy; save your skin!

It used to be that any support
For an autocrat would be a sin.
Now in bed together they shout:
To hell with democracy; save your skin!

To gain more power, they gerrymander
Districts in states, which is akin
To trashing our system as they proclaim:
To hell with democracy; save your skin!

Deceitful methods to stay in power
They will use and feel no chagrin.
The battle cry uniting them is
To hell with democracy; save your skin!

-by Bob B (4-22-22)

A virus is now infecting the nation.
It means that only the strong will survive.
This insidious virus is called
Project 2025.

Its carriers go by the names of Trump,
Musk, Vought, Bondi and all
Oblivious Americans
Who can’t see the writing that’s on the wall.

Trump lied through his rotten teeth
During his election campaign.
He said he knew NOTHING about the plan.
Lying, of course, is his domain.

Once in office, he began
To show an eagerness to embrace
The Project through his appointed team
Who now are putting the plan into place.

The virus is quickly spreading through Congress
As Trump's sycophants watch and swoon,
Afraid NOT to become infected
And showing that they were not immune.

The virus has horrible repercussions;
The consequences will be immense.
Most of what the infected are doing
Is damaging, hurtful, and makes no sense.

Christian nationalists are involved
Pushing their sick agenda as well.
Beware of their putrid policies.
Surely, you have noticed the smell.

Wisdom, knowledge, truth, and compassion
Are the primary antidotes.
Ah, one more: that everybody
In future elections gets out and votes!

-by Bob B (2-27-25)

DT:
Friends and students, hear my plan
To combat left-wing indoctrination:
I will sign an order demanding
Patriotic education.

Ah, such music to my ears!
I would say it sounds hypnotic:
Ignoring the facts to focus on myths…
That's what I call "patriotic."

There is no white privilege.
I say Whites are the real oppressed.
I want history books to say
That we have always been the best.

The 1619 Project is out.
If faculties don't follow my rules,
They will hear from me, for I'll
Cut off funding to their schools.

Racial inequality
Has no place in history books.
To me it's toxic propaganda.
Can't you see how bad it looks?

The schools have been cheating our kids.
I think current curricula stink.
Teaching blind allegiance is better
Than teaching children how to think.

I want students everywhere
To hear what I call the REAL truth.
And you'll have the privilege of being
Part of the Trump/****** Youth.

-by Bob B (9-18-20)

We will have a new president,
And no, it won't be Donald Trump.
Actually, it's Elon Musk--
Trump's newest sidekick-chump.

It's Elon Musk--the money man,
And one for whom Trump has the hots--
Who will be the one in charge.
Musk will now be calling the shots.

When you're the richest man on Earth,
You can do whatever you want.
Flash your money at Trump and you'll
Be his newest confidant.

The richest man on Earth can also
Use his money to threaten those
Who do not do his bidding or who,
Instead of ayes, will give him noes.

Interestingly, Elon Musk
Wasn't even born in the States
And legally couldn't run for office.
What kind of nonsense now awaits?

Privatization is his goal.
Social programs are under attack.
If he and his cronies get their way,
Consider how far they'll set us back.

Now that Musk is in Trump's ear,
Trump will be the titular head,
But President Musk without a doubt
Will be running the show instead.

Musk has wormed his way to the top;
The consequences could be huge.
I wonder how long their friendship will last
And which one of them is the other one's stooge.

-by Bob B (12-21-24)

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

Let's be real. It's fine to be
Skeptical when others say
"God has given this land to us."
The appropriate response: "No way!"

One group says, "This land is ours!"
Another counters: "That's not true.
We believe it was given to us!"
And then fighting breaks out anew.

Using the scriptures to justify
The occupation of others' lands
Provides a shaky argument
And unsubstantiated demands.

When we ignore the allegorical
Nature of all religion, we lose.
So much death and destruction occur
When myths influence political views.

In truth, there is no Promised Land;
No one is a chosen one.
There is only the voice of reason.
Listen, and let its will be done.

-by Bob B (11-14-23)

All of us vets once took an oath--
One that clearly demonstrates
That we will protect and defend the Con-
Stitution of the United States.

Members of Congress take the same oath
When sworn into office. This adjuration
Shows that they will do their duty
To honor, protect, and defend this nation.

This vow, this pledge, when we're sworn in
Is serious business--NOT a game.
Just as we made good on the oath,
The president should do the same!

-by Bob B (11-12-19)

A female tennis player might give
An umpire a piece of her mind
When she disagrees with him.
Consequently, she is fined

Or penalized in other ways.
However, if the player's a male,
He can spit, destroy his racket,
Yell, and viciously assail

The umpire at a tournament.
He could even resort to calling
The ump an "abortion," and little or nothing
Happens to him. Now THAT'S appalling!

A candid man might be considered
"Direct" or "outspoken." Isn't that rich?
But if you are an assertive women,
You are basically called a "*****."

A man who loudly demonstrates
At a Senate hearing in an angry fashion
Could be considered "aggressive" or even
Be called a man of "impetuous passion."

A woman, however, who interrupts
A Senate hearing with passion hears
Herself being called "hysterical" when
She's led away to Senators' sneers.

Sexism? Discrimination?
Inequality? Status quo?
It certainly appears that way.
The double standard has got to go!

-by Bob B (9-11-18)

President Trump's first day
In office wouldn't allay your fears
If you've been worried about what we'll
Be seeing for the next four years.

Press Secretary Spicer,
Who's called upon to do Trump's bidding,
Had one major concern:
Crowd size! I'm not kidding!

Spicer castigated the media,
Saying that they had underreported
The size of Inauguration Day crowds.
The figures, he said, were greatly distorted.

Spicer insisted that Donald Trump's
Inauguration crowds had been
The largest that had ever witnessed
Such an event.^ Once again

Trump's insecurities
And hurt ego take front stage.
The media merely report the facts
And he flies into a rage.

Facts are facts: President Obama's
Numbers were greater. But NO big deal.
Instead of putting out a tweet,
Trump had Spicer deliver his spiel.

The numbers are not that important.
What's important is whether Trump can
Set aside his petty gripes.
Is that beyond the scope of the man?

- by Bob B (1-22-17)

^Spicer had said the following: "This was the largest audience ever to witness an inauguration, period, both in person and around the globe." Just awkwardly worded, or intentionally vague?

Going after football again,
President Trump, feeling miffed,
Challenged the Philadelphia Eagles:
Mess with Trump and vengeance is swift.

Some of the team didn't want to
Attend a White House event, and so
Trump UNinvited the team
And had his own flashy show.

Criticizing the football players,
Trump--who seldom gets it right--
Said that they were insulting our troops.
How he LOVES to pick a fight!

Attempting to show how patriotic
He was, Trump--man of sharp tongue--
Wanted the National Anthem AND
"God Bless America" to be sung.

Standing in front of the military
Choir, Trump sang along.
What's funny is he showed he didn't
Know the lyrics to either song!

-by Bob B (6-6-18)

(Do you know the 1958 Sheb Wooley song "The Purple People Eater"? Here is a poem/song version for 2024.)

Well, this strange phenomenon came walking our way
With a deep orange glow. Boy what a day!
'Twas the weirdest creature you ever could see.
It looked like an orangish freedom hater to me.

It was a big ol', foul-mouthed, lyin' orangish freedom hater.
(Big ol', foul-mouthed, lyin' orangish freedom hater.)
A big ol', foul-mouthed, lyin' orangish freedom hater.
NOT so fun to see! (Loud mouth?)

So he came to this land to spread all of his hate
And he told people here that he would make them great.
He also said he's the chosen one!
His first time here was a mere dry run!

It was a big ol', foul-mouthed, lyin' orangish freedom hater.
(Big ol', foul-mouthed, lyin' orangish freedom hater.)
A big ol', foul-mouthed, lyin' orangish freedom hater.
'Twas so weird to see! (Big old?)

We asked the orangish freedom hater, "What's your plan?"
Then HE said, "Doing what it takes to be a moneyman.
But what's more important is to meet my goal:
To kick out non-loyalists and be in control."

Well, boogeyman, Putin fan, lyin' orangish freedom hater,
Addled-brained, unrestrained, lyin' orangish freedom hater.
(He wears golf pants) lyin' orangish freedom hater.
Looks so strange to me!

He said he HAD many friends who could help him succeed,
And he asked us why we had a problem with greed.
He said that greed's a virtue and it must be clear--
That the government shouldn't stop a profiteer!

Well, boogeyman, Putin fan, lyin' orangish freedom hater,
Addled-brained, unrestrained, lyin' orangish freedom hater.
(He loves golf pants) lyin' orangish freedom hater.
Strange? You must agree! (Freedom hater?)

There's a problem with him, and, yes, it's sad to say:
It looked as though he would be here to stay.
"Move to Russia," we said--"a perfect country for you.
Let the Russian dictator make all your dreams come true."

-by Bob B (9-7-24)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67tKNEsJjTI

If you favor a leader who's
An autocrat wannabe;
If locking kids at the border in cages
Is your cup of tea;

If constantly being lied to doesn't
Bother you at all;
If you like a leader who says,
To hell with protocol;

If you think a president should
Surround himself with crooks
And you can't see that he's much more
Dangerous than he looks;

If you don't mind that you are being
Taken for a ride
By someone who's a con man who
Has far too much to hide;

If it's quite okay when someone
Says his words aren't his,
Or says he's not a racist, although
Racists think he is;

If it's fine that leaders don't
Care whom they degrade,
Or will not be responsible
For the mess they've made;

If you admire a president
Who cheated on all three wives,
Or lied about a pandemic that
Has taken many lives;

If you like a leader who
Rants and raves nonstop
And goes all out to help the wealthy
People at the top;

If you approve of a leader who feels
That beggars can't be choosers,
Or one who's called our fallen soldiers
Both suckers and losers;

If you favor an American
President who incites
People to violence and steps
On our hard-earned rights;

Then vote for the one who, in time,
Will leave you high and dry.
I am happy to say my vote
Will go to the other guy.

-by Bob B (10-31-20)

Devin Nunes and fellow Republicans
Certainly had their hands full
When they composed a controversial
Memo that was basically bull.

Nunes' cherry-picked assertions
Were assembled to malign
The FBI and also to lay
The groundwork for firing Rosenstein.

Trump was advised not to release
The memo but did it anyway,
Nervous because the Mueller probe
Is closing in day by day.

Before Trump had even seen
The Nunes memo, he avowed
He would release it, which in turn
Would do his Republican lackeys proud.

The Democrats have sent to Trump
Another memo for release--
One that rebuts the Devin Nunes'
Attack-memo, piece by piece.

But what? Trump won't release it?
All of a sudden we all learn
That national security
Is the president's major concern.

So Russian meddling in our elections
Is not a serious issue, and yet
A memo rebutting misinformation
Is a major security threat?

"Release the memo!" messages
Won't be sent out by Russian bots
To help you, Dems. They are waiting
For Nunes to write more devious plots.

The more Trump has tried to resist--
The more he's covered up facts and lied--
The more it seems so obvious
That there is something he's trying to hide.

-by Bob B (2-10-18)

One day a monk near the end of a journey
Encountered a wide, rushing river.
Standing on the bank, he fretted,
"But I have messages to deliver."

For hours he stood there considering his options,
Unable to figure out a good plan.
All at once he noticed that
On the other bank there stood a man.

Elated, the monk waved and yelled,
"Oh, great teacher, good day to you!
To get to the other side of this flowing
River, tell me, what do I do?"

The teacher pondered for a few moments,
Looked up and down the river so wide,
And then yelled back to the fretful monk,
"My son, you ARE on the other side."

- by Bob B (2-27-17)

°An old tale retold here in verse

A wealthy merchant lived in a house,
No, in a mansion on many acres.
He had scores of servants to help him,
Along with drivers, butlers, and bakers.

The mansion itself wasn't the safest
Place in which to live, for it
Had dangers lurking about, and many
Would say that to live in, it was unfit.

The building had only ONE entrance,
Which meant that people could be in a scrape
In case an emergency arose
And all the occupants had to escape.

One day indeed a fire broke out.
The wealthy merchant was petrified.
Although his staff all left the building,
His children continued to play inside.

"Children, run out quickly!" he yelled.
"You'll die if you don't listen to me."
Ignoring him, his children kept playing,
What would it take for them to flee?

Then the father had an idea,
Even though it wasn't true.
"Children, leave the house right now.
I have some carts that are waiting for you.

"Some are pulled by goats, while some
Are pulled by deer or oxen," he said.
"Stop playing inside. Come out
And play with these gorgeous carts instead."

The children, excited, pushed their way
Out of the house, escaping the fire.
Outside, the promised carts were not
To be seen. So, was the father a liar?

In the meantime, the father was having
The most incredible carts created
Ever seen by anyone.
The eager kids stood by and waited.

Beautiful beyond belief,
The carts were covered with gems and flowers.
Pure white oxen pulled them around.
The kids delighted in them for hours.

If the father hadn't thought fast,
The fate of his children could have been grim.
The gift he gave them exceeded his promise.
Their safety was what was important to him.

Our great house is burning, too.
If benefits of leaving seem small,
By heeding the words of the experts, we'll find
A greater gift awaiting us all.

-by Bob B (8-16-23)

°From THE LOTUS SUTRA

A man who lived in a small town
Was having trouble earning his keep.
He went to visit a friend. They dined.
Then he got drunk and fell asleep.

The next morning the friend went away
On business and left behind a note.
However, before he left he'd sewn
A precious jewel inside the man's coat.

When the man awoke, he ate
Some breakfast, dressed, and then departed.
He had NO idea that
His friend had been so giant-hearted.

Leaving the town, the man went looking
For work, which was a struggle for him.
He took on any job he could,
Even risking life and limb.

After a number of long, hard years
Of toil, he happened to run into
His friend who was in town on business--
The friend who was so well-to-do.

On seeing him, the friend was aghast
And asked why he was working so hard.
He noticed the man's frail form,
His sunburnt face, his arms so scarred.

"When I saw you last, I sewed
Inside your coat a precious jewel,"
He said. "If you had discovered it,
You wouldn't have had to work like a mule.

"Here you have been slaving away
Unnecessarily.
Go find the jewel and wisely sell it.
The money will surely set you free."

Ah, at times we’re unaware
Of hidden gifts that we possess--
Gifts that can truly change our lives
And greatly affect our happiness.

-by Bob B (8-17-23)

°From Chapter 8 of the LOTUS SUTRA

So President Biden pardoned Hunter.
Of course, he was attacked--
Especially by the Right that had
To scream and overreact.

"Corrupt!" they called him. They said he had
Abused his power. Oh, no!
Have they forgotten what Trump had done
Just a few years ago?

Consider the REAL crooks that Trump
Pardoned and also set free.
No president has ever been
As corrupt as he.

Some of those he's pardoned are being
Given positions as well
In government, and yet Trump now
Screams to *******.

Trump has also said he will pardon
Insurrectionists, who
To him were merely patriots.
A warped point of view.

But Biden is favoring family,
Some people will say.
Trump did that before and still
Continues to do it today.

He says that Biden has weaponized
The DOJ. Oh, my!
Trump must learn to take the log
Out of his own eye.

His pick for future AG has
A hit list to carry out.
With Trump in his ear, who knows what
Nonsense will come about.

If you're upset with Biden now,
Get over it, and hurry.
After Trump's in office again,
You'll have a bigger worry.

-by Bob B (12-3-24)

The president's having a pardon party
To prove that he's a big wheel.
He's showing us that corruption here
Is NOT a very big deal.

Extortionists, swindlers, and liars
Now are going free,
While those accused of lesser crimes
Must pay a penalty.

Financial crimes are not a problem
For person number one.
Then let us see his tax returns
To see what HE has done.

In Trump's previous presidential
Pardons people saw
A whimsical and similar
Assault on the rule of law.

He wants to send a message to
His fellow partners in crime:
"Remain loyal to me and you'll
Avoid serving time."

And he claims he was concerned about
Corruption in Ukraine!
What a farce! Everyone knows
Corruption is HIS domain.

-by Bob B (2-19-20)

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

- by Bob B

(Try singing this poem to the tune of the song "The Phantom of the Opera," by Andrew Lloyd Webber.)

From New York State he came
And conned his way
Right past the White House gate
And chose to stay.
To be unethical
He is inclined.
The phantom of the White House is a threat
To humankind.

He does not care about
What people need.
He answers more to calls
Of graft and greed.
When making deals with him,
He'll rob you blind.
The phantom of the White House is a threat
To humankind.

He speaks in code just like
A mafia boss.
To find his good points, you
Are at a loss.
His hateful rhetoric
Is unrefined.
The phantom of the White House is a threat
To humankind.

His rank hypocrisy's
A common theme.
All his deceitfulness
Is not a dream.
Speak words against him and
You'll be maligned.
The phantom of the White House is a threat
To humankind.

To purge the White House of
This noisome ghost,
The answer's to remove
Him from his post.
May people everywhere
All keep in mind:
The phantom of the White House is a threat
To humankind.

Beware the phantom of the White House….
He's there--the phantom of the White House….
Beware the phantom of the White House….

-by Bob B (10-6-19)

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

- by Bob B

A curious monk asked the Buddha some questions:
"Is the world finite or not?
What happens to people after we die?
Your answers to these will help me a lot."

The wise and compassionate Buddha, who
Always kept on the straight and narrow,
Smiled at the monk and replied, "Suppose
A man is hit by a poisoned arrow.

"He tells the surgeon, 'Before you remove
The arrow, I REALLY have to know
Who the person is who shot it
And if he is a beginner or pro.

'How old is he? Is he a noble
Warrior or merely a simple man?
From what family does he come?
Is he dark, light, or tan?

'Did he use a longbow, or did
He use a crossbow? One more thing:
I want to know what kind of material
The person used to make the string.

'Ah, the feathers! I don't think
By asking this I am being absurd,
But since arrows have feathers, tell me
Where they came from. From WHAT kind of bird?'

"Before anyone could answer these questions,
The man who had been hit would be dead.
He should have said to the surgeon, 'Please,
Remove the poisoned arrow!' instead.

"You see, resorting to useless questions
And metaphysical speculation
Will not end human suffering
Or help you experience realization.

"Life is short; don't waste time.
What is essential should be your focus.
You'll be more at peace if you
Eschew irrelevant hocus pocus."

-by Bob B (7-9-23)

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

- by Bob B