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My muse does tickle,
I cannot deny,
but she does not stop…until I cry,
so I try to be happy,
I want to be free,
but then I miss her,
touching me,
With  a tear in my eye,
I reach for my pen,
begging for her to touch me again

BLCostello©2021
Nope, I dont speak French!  Lol, but I could not resist the word play merci and the suggestion of gratefulness and to spare. Hope you'll forgive
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                      A Meditation on Caspar David Friedrich’s
                                   “Wanderer above the Mist”

For victory alone he chooses to exist
He takes a triumphant and well-earned breath
But what if that wanderer above the mist
Slips on a banana peel to his death!
a companion piece to
miniskirts & high heels vs. poetry & yoga^
<•>

a couple of buds at a local dive bar, drinking Buds,
talking loud about technology
and other manly man stuff

attract attention for our conversation isn't bout sports,
get approached by long legs in high heels and a miniskirt,
with the best come on line ever
any woman invented,
"you guys know about computers, huh?"

later after reading twenty or so of her poems,
and learning the degree of difficulty of the
downward facing dog pose
(adho mukha svanasana)
she said:

tell me again how I
clear my cache,
change my font,
add more memory for new memories,
stop auto correct from making wont into want,
so I can happy write


"wont thy thoughts to my heart thereof"

so I obliged and then
the geek in meek wrote
his first poem

after first clearing the catch  
in his throat
 Sep 2021 ConnectHook
ogdiddynash
many women do yoga.
many men do ***.

women prefer,
ah, never mind,
you know how that ends!

No?

If we draw a
Venn diagram,
one circle, yoga,
the other, ***,

in the middle,  
overlapping sector,
is the
Venn Zen Intersextion
well I’m chuckling and I WAS paying attention in 10th grade Math

google search Venn Diagram Templates. Very Erogenous!
 Sep 2021 ConnectHook
Bob B
BIDEN (to Bush)
I have to say,
Because of you, man,
We have this mess
In Afghanistan.

BUSH
It's not my fault.
We were attacked
On 9/11,
As a matter of fact.
If we hadn't gone
To Afghanistan
What would have been
Al-Qaeda's next plan?

BIDEN (to Bush)
But wait a minute!
Al-Qaeda was routed.
But let's talk about
Other things you flouted.
Like the truth when you said--
Like a vicious hawk--
That there were reasons
To invade Iraq.

OBAMA (to Bush)
Ah, so it's your fault.

BUSH
No!
WE went there
Because of the production
Of dangerous weapons
Of mass destruction.

OBAMA (to Bush)
But how did they ever
Get on your list--
The WMDs--
For they DIDN'T exist?

OBAMA, BIDEN (to Bush)
See, it's your fault!

BUSH
No, it isn't!
I decided
As commander in chief
That Saddam Hussein
Was causing too much grief.
I had to do
Something about it.
So, I had my team
Try to figure out it.

OBAMA, BIDEN
Figure it out,
Is what you mean.
But come on now:
You've GOTTA come clean.

BUSH (to Obama)
Wait!
You're the one
Who pulled our troops
Out of Iraq,
Which then allowed groups
Of ISIS fighters
To spread their hate
As they tried to form
An Islamic state.

So it's your fault.

OBAMA (to Bush)
The Iraqis wanted
Us to leave.
I didn't have
Any tricks up my sleeve.
The war in Iraq
Was a major distraction,
It didn't help matters,
Not even by a fraction.
Because of you,
People lost their focus
On Afghanistan
With all your hocus-pocus.

BUSH, BIDEN (to Obama)
But then you suddenly
Had the urge
To initiate
A giant surge
Of troops again
In Afghanistan.
What the hell
Were you thinking, man?

TRUMP
You all bear
Responsibility.
The war was a lesson
In futility.

BUSH, OBAMA, BIDEN (to Trump)
You're the one
Who spun his wheels.
With Taliban forces
You made some deals
Without including
Officials from
The government.
And that was dumb!
Did YOU perhaps show
With your Sharpie and your chart
That by May 1
The troops would depart?

TRUMP (to Obama and Biden)
Now wait a minute!
Part of your campaign
Was troop withdrawal
From the Afghan domain.

BIDEN (to Trump)
And that's what I did.
I followed through
With an agreement
That was made by you.
It wasn't something
That I reversed.
I just moved it
To August 31st.
Who could know how long
The government would last
And that the Taliban
Would move in so fast?

BUSH, OBAMA, TRUMP (to Biden)
Then it's YOUR fault!

THE PEOPLE (to Bush, Biden, Obama, and Trump)
It's EVERYBODY'S fault…
Along with Congress
And others we could blame.
But stop pointing fingers
And end this stupid game!
You ALL bear the fault.
Be that as it may,
What is done is done.
That was yesterday.
We need to save lives,
So, find a way somehow
To try to figure out
What to do now.

BIDEN, OBAMA, TRUMP, BUSH (pointing at one another)
But it's still your fault!

THE PEOPLE
Stop!

-by Bob B (8-18-21)

°Very loosely based on Stephen Sondheim's song "Your Fault" from INTO THE WOODS
Some say the world will end in fire;
some say in rain.
I’ve seen the world end
again and again.
I’ve heard the bell toll
and the raven talk.
I’ve walked to the end of the pier
and seen the boat crashed up on the rock.
But each time I arise,
I awake to face the dawn.
Because there’s always one more job to do,
while I whistle one more song.
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                         Ode on a Coffee Urn

                             If Keats Took His Morning Coffee
                         at Hub City Diner in Lafayette, Louisiana

Thou stainless steel bride of the day’s pale dawn
Thou foster-child of all our morning hopes
Patient historian who writes upon
The pages of our lives optimistic tropes:

What die-cut label hangs about thy shape
Of morning blends or sometimes darker roasts
From Jamaica’s Blue Mountain, or some further scape
Perhaps above Colombia’s green coasts

What men or gods are these who at Hub City can say
“What wonderful coffee for beginning the day!”
Coffee is a poet's muse.
I'm craving something real,
something more surreal.
Wanting to get away,
from this ugly summer day.
Missing the fall, and the snow..
isn't that funny, don't you know?

Closing eyes, dreaming of other times.
Wanting to live back in the golden days.
Visioning a quest, something to put me
to the test.

Sparkling waters;
clock birds cuckoo once it strikes twelve.
Life of the moment, coming to an end-
as the birds nests make final amends.
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                Darwinians Infected with Cognitive Dissonance
                            Visit Gettysburg on July 5th, 1863

They consider the news in several editions
Ignore the diagnoses of learned physicians
Number the dead at the local morticians

And conclude:

“They must have had pre-existing conditions”
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