Sitting on my balcony
As the dark envelops the lake
Drinking a glass of wine
I forgive everyone their sins.

Oh to be seventy-five again,
Says a nonagenarian
But I'm not complaining
Says the cheerful old man
It's just that looking back
Provides a longer time-span.

I am White and Black
Red and Yellow
Doesn't matter a wise man says
What color is the soul.

It's a terrible way to govern
Look about you, says one
I agree says another
But it's the best there is.

Don't despair, my American friends
Says a wise and compassionate poet
An old Russian proverb says
Criticize not a dancing bear
For being clumsy and not standing tall
But be amazed and grateful
That the bear can dance at all.

The Chicago Tribune editors in an article ask
What rhymes with lithium -ion battery
Challenging poets to address this awesome task.
Why, it is better than winning a lottery
It allows me, says the poet, to roam
By plugging into a socket at home.

The article described the surge and Electric vehicle production
expected in the next 10 to 20 years. In a playful aside
they asked how writers of songs find words to rhyme with battery.

A basketball playing professor of law
Took advantage of an opportunity he saw
He ran as a Hyde Park resident
And became our celebrated president.

Hyde Park the home of Argonne lab and the U of C
Fathered many Nobel Prize winners and nominees to be
More than Harvard, they cared not it would seem
They claimed to have a better football team.  

I'll have to renew my loaner card
Obama placed his library in our backyard
His presidential record there for all to see
What a waste, says Donald Trump
He doesn't mention me.

Poets are always looking out a window
As they struggle to get the words right
Revisit and revise
But do not  plagiarize.

As the Dagger plunged
The ACA gasped and said
E Tu McConnell

Mayor Pete Buttigieg
was nobodies fool.
He chose Harvard
for a school.

Went to England
as an Oxford scholar.
Got a Rhodes award
and saved US dollar.

Took a freighter to study
for his final exam.
( This is true, I do nor jest}
of his class, he scored the best.

Came home and served as Mayor
And won a second term,
In football city, Notre Dame.
Giving him a taste of fame.

To round out his life
he went on line
and found a male partner.
It worked out fine.

He ran for President
as a South Bend resident.
Both friend and foe
rated his chances low.

Said he, I will give it my best
Since Donald Trump is my foe.

The Buddhists say
To clear the mind
And achieve emptiness
Follow your breath

Why is it when I
Breathe in, breathe out
Emptiness is replaced
By a poem in its place

We will not stand here
And allow an angel
Who became a devil
To enter this sacred gate.

With a trembling  voice
I did inquire
Of what am I accused
Of being human, of being human
Came back the reply.

Out, out, ****** spot
Cries Lady Macbeth
As she tries a new detergent.

I have made a fortune in real estate
Now I meet with Monarchs and heads of state
I golf at Mar-a Lago, drink at the bar,
Lord knows, I drive a golf ball very far.

But now a cloud hangs over my head
There is a comparison with Watergate it is said
But my relation with Putin is exceptionally fine
For he sends me a ***** instead of wine.

Oh Lord, you led Moses to the promised land
Through dry deserts and the Red sea
What must I do to make to make America great again
As a great, as great as me.

There're was a young man named Book
Who passed every exam that he took
So he went to Notre Dame
And achieved Lasting Fame
By winning,
Game,
After Game,
After Game.

Citizens, fellow citizens
The endless campaign is done
The nation has weathered every storm
And Donald Trump has won.

Not a trumpet sounds
But a mournful dirge is played
And on these capitol steps
Truth and decency are laid.

The message and some words are borrowed from Walt Whitman's very moving poem about the assassination of Abraham Lincoln-----
Oh Captain, My Captain
Our fearful trip is done-------

I hope that Walt will forgive me.

A practicing and devout Catholic
Married a talented and charming wife
However but not of his faith

Surely it could be said
With very little sadness
That there was a Methodist
To his madness.

Here stands Joan of Arc
Clad in mail and iron plate
Her voices speak
And decide a Nation's fate

Looking out at the lake
I see it display many moods
Not its own
But mine

Poetry is for the soul
Wine is for the body
St. Peter----Do you stock Merlot?

She beguiled
A Lotus to bloom
From an ancient seed

Was the Lotus there
When the Buddha smiled
In an enlightened way

My Son, The Sun,
Lights up a room
Even the darkest corners,
The Sun rises, but also sets,
Too soon,
Too soon.

There was a coach named Naggy
Who wore a beard quite shagy
He had a quarterback called Trubisky
Who started each game with some whiskey.

When asked why
His answer was sly
I can't take this game seriously
Much as I try.