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18h · 86
Tamiami Trail
I came to see an alligator, lizard or a toad,
Drove along the waters to the Tamiami Road.
We took our time to see the myths all about the park,
But still I wanted desperately,
To hear the gators bark.

Watched the dawning day arrive
Above the mossy trees,
Watched the night herald morn,
Tasted the salty breeze.
We lived a captive life
Along the shell shod shores;
Traded time for trinkets,
Shopped the main street stores.

We oiled our bodies near
The alligator swamp;
Waited bated near
The large tortoise hole;
We didn't see the turtle,
Didn't see the shell;
So looking for the gators,
Remained our only goal.

We heard one lived in the lake,
Invisible in his lair;
Eating shanked golf *****,
Go on look, if you so dare.
We watched from a distant bank,
With each kerplunk,
Our odyssey sunk.

We searched further down
The TamiamiTrail;
Studied bees in their hives,
Awed by the order we saw there,
Made us more alive.

We wandered lost in orange groves
Perfuming winding trails;
But we never saw a gator,
We never saw a tail.

So, if you want to see some gators,
Skip the Tamiami Trail.
Wow. Found this one I wrote in 1978 on my first trip to Fort Myers, FL. I was in teacher's college. Married for eight months. It was March Break (Reading Week) . There wasn't much time for writing poetry in those days; however, Ann had an Aunt and Uncle living out a Canadian winter there. They invited us down. What a terrific holiday. What another life. I sound disappointed, however, I must have done a lot. I should send this to my former wife. We don't live far apart. And we have daughters with children living in homes between us. What a world.
... a whimpering simp?
A simpering whimp then?
Nnno! Close though.
A stable...
     Absolutely not.
                                          ... genius
It'll come,
and when it does
it'll be like a blue bolt
from above;
the dark will give way,
the house on the hill will light up
like a prison escape.
Oct 14 · 50
Pees and Q'Anons
Francie Lynch Oct 14
Trump exposes himself
When he minds his
Pees and Q'Anons.
The golden showers, hookers and the Don.
Oct 12 · 185
Francie Lynch Oct 12
Potus fallin'
Flotus stallin'
Scotus appalin'

Kim's cryin'
Vlad's lyin'
Donnie's dyin'

Joe's soarin'
Dems scorin'

God's in heaven,
All's right with the world
Finding level again
Oct 10 · 68
Still Laughing
Francie Lynch Oct 10
... still laughing,
I was told Goody's gonna die Sunday.
It's Nascar Weedkend,
Will Thanksgiving ever be the same?

We weren't sure of him last week;
So we hoped, some prayed;
Me too.
It wouldn't have happened at all
If Mark didn't laugh so much,
eat so much,
talk so much,
chew so little,
swallow so much,
laugh much more,
drink so much,
choke so fast.
Then leave so quickly.

That's Goody.
Still laughing.
RIP Mark Goodacre.
Oct 9 · 46
Our Will Be Done
Can you feel the seismic rift.
Shift your weight. Keep your balance.
Hold steady.
The ground is moving beneath.
We've been waiting, expecting this to happen.
It's Mesopotamian.
Hordes will be swallowed up.
Legions will burn,
We will be punished,
But there will come calm.
Our will be done.
Until the debris stops falling,
Look down, cover up.
Then look up.
Pink eyes, and
     Teary cries.
He tries against
     Liting flies.  
Sticking lies.
Tip of the cap to Wordsworth's "Daffodils."
Oct 2 · 207
Epitaph 45
Here lies a liar
Because the liar lied here.
Now the liar's stable,
For the liar's now inable,
To equivocate and lie.
And I hope there are no military honors, like gun salutes, when it happens.
Oct 2 · 355
220 000 is Unjust
220 000 + 1 is unjustly better.
I started this at 180 000. I don't wish evil against the pres... *******. Yes I do.
I'll keep going back and changing the number + 1. :)
Francie Lynch Sep 26
I am Canadian. We are considered polite.
I will remain so here.
We are a socialist democracy.
You, a capitalist democracy.
Our Prime Minister makes mistakes.
He's comparatively young. He takes good council.
He speaks of what he knows,
And knows when not to speak.
He can be mean (depending), but never cruel.
He has great wealth, but neither flaunts nor hides it.
When he equivocates or lies, he knows it.

We have all the amenities of a capitalistic society,
With the security and comfort of our social pluralism.
Our youth enrol in a free and fine education.
We have no rich or poor school districts.
We have no security guards or metal detectors.

We are not an economic super power.
We do not influence worldly affairs with an itch or a sniffle.

Our Senate is powerless (enough said).
Authority and power lie in the multi-party system;
Each chooses its leader.
We don't vote for the Prime Minister,
But every four years (and many times less) we can vote one out.
And get this: sometimes the party changes horses midstream to rein in getaways.
A coup d'état is almost impossible,
Unless we get invaded for our fresh water.
We're not nuclear armed,  but when called, the Forces are tenacious.
We're not war mongers. We really do prefer peace.
Our former P.M. won a Nobel for coming up with the idea of a U.N. Peacekeeping Force. That's a real one.

We have serious problems like you. At times, the innocent and the guilty get hurt; that's never good.  And believe me, we support most of your political initiatives, domestic and foreign, and your peaceful demonstrations. We know pain too.

I know you love your country. And you have **** good reasons.
Most Canadians love you too, and we are very worried about our southern neighbours who treat us so well when we visit west of the St. Clair River.
We've helped you when you were in need; when your country was under attack. We are your good neighbours with good fences. We will always be there for you and whatever Democracy you choose.
Please, choose wisely.

Bless America
Good luck in 2020.
Sep 16 · 521
Loss of Function
Francie Lynch Sep 16
Take away my feelings,
You take the
press, **** and poke,
the nudge, palm and *****;
my caress, hug and tap,
my hold, tag and grip.
where's embrace, wrap and push,
entwine, rub and clutch;
                 and more.
take a glance, paw and grasp,
a nuzzle, scratch or clasp;
an itch, clench and handle,
my entangle and ******
all gone... all lost.

They have taken away my touch,
Making it hard to say Good-bye.
In order to know how something works, take it away.
Francie Lynch Sep 11
I was tricked into believing
This is my world.
There are too many signs
That can't be ignored.
It's certainly not my old world.
No, not my world at all.
Not the one I inherited,
And not the world I'll leave you.
And I'm so sorry for the mess we're in.
I'm sorry I'm made of carbon,
I'm changing,
I could be a diamond still.
Tip of the hat to the Wicked Witch of the West for the title.
Sep 9 · 110
The Bogus Eaters
A tip of the cap to my good friend, Homer.
Sep 9 · 83
The Vagina Virus
The adulterer has the ****** Virus,
And 45 needs to distance
Six thousand miles;
Cover his face;
Buy XS gloves;
Add a cup of bleach,
Light up his interior,
And wipe away the time
Spent behind SDNY bars.
Sep 1 · 54
The U.S. of Jenga
Will the Jenga House collapse
If we remove the Judicial block?
Will the foundation hold the roof
If we remove the Legislative block?
Remove the Executive block(head),
Place it in the bunker, for reference,
And let the House rise up.
Rise up!
Aug 28 · 111
Pray For Us
Francie Lynch Aug 28
I'm a sinner,
Our boy's a swimmer;
Pray for us.

I crave to man handle
Lads in our *** scandal;
Pray for us.

My hub's a ******,
Pleads, L'amour toujours;
Pray for us.

We seek your affection,
Count our Sunday collection;
Pray for us.

We drink golden showers,
Are massaged for hours;
Pray for us.

On our private jet,
We ***, drink and fete;
Pray for us.

You don't know squat
Till you Manage a trois;
Pray for us.

We are rich,
And white as hell;
And richer now
That we fell.

Pray for us all.
Yeah, the ***** got over ten million dollar severance package from Liberty University. He can't fly in the private jet anymore. ****. How will he manage. I know. America will pray for he and Becki, and give them more money.
Aug 26 · 741
Francie Lynch Aug 26
They live a life of dissipation,
Take up space in every nation;
Denounce Science deliberations,
Hide the truth through litigation;
They emit no illumination,
Preach an altered fact narration.
They support, by oration,
The Elephant's abdication,
And neglect of obligation.

     They won't wear masks.
     Or wash their hands;
     Won't give six feet
     In their wasteland.

     They cry foul,
     They cry hoax,
     But they won't cry
     When you die, Folks.
The Republican Party is a disgraceful collection of Trump racists, sexists, bigomists, and children haters. Yes, children. Look what the Conways did to theirs.
Aug 24 · 112
Ciaran's Cradle Song
Francie Lynch Aug 24
We can't repeat
Your inner sleep
Of solitude and peace.
But by your feet,
While you sleep,
Angels guard you always.

So, Sleep, Ciaran. Sleep.
Let no one claim your dreams;
Listen to your childhood rhymes;
Worry not of place or time,
For all is still
As it seems.

Oh! Sleep, Angel. Sleep.
Shield your heart
As a secret power
In your waking hours.
Spread your winged smile
With candescence,
To brighten, and alit,
Where Angels sleep.
Written for the occasion of the birth of my fifth grandchild, Ciaran James Lynch Grey, 10lbs. I can't imagine...
Aug 23 · 180
Heaven Sent
Francie Lynch Aug 23
To weaken him,
He sent the archangel Virus;
To muffle him,
He sent the St. Michael storms.
I'm not a big believer in Divine Intervention, but in this case...
Francie Lynch Aug 22
I lift pens.
(You can never have enough of them)
Funeral Homes leave them lying around. They're the only good thing about Visitations.
Banks tie them down, but there are others, here and there.
There are those who want to take your pens too.
People with petitions are always asking to borrow a pen.
They want my ink and blood.
Be sure you get yours back.
I have a legit fountain pen collection.
Proud of my Parker I got in Oxford years ago,
During a different life that lead to this one.
Biff Loman lifted Mr. Oliver's pen,
After his epiphany.
Just runs in and steals it.
Am I a tragic figure as well?
Are we all playing our parts in
The Death of a Nation.
Aug 13 · 90
"Blimey, red blood!"
Francie Lynch Aug 13
It's well-known,
The younger you are,
The better your memory.
You refute.
I agree to your exceptions.
You agree they have less to remember.
We laugh, but know it to be true.
Our memory is full.
I unintentionally delete memories.
I don't get to decide how to make room.
The younger you are the more space you have.
The more empty cells, you quip.
Little vacuums, I add.
Wanting to be filled.

I make an exception.
Some cells are memory dedicated;
Protected from the sub-conscious decision-making process that is responsible for deletions...

I saw To Sir With Love
Over five decades ago (perhaps you know it).
I can't tell you which delinquent said,
Blimey, red blood!
When Thackery cut his hand.
I didn't care when I was thirteen
What the difference was between
Empowering teachers,
And overpowering teachers;
But I recall the colour of racism
In the drama
On Thackery's face.
Watch it again, or for the first time. Also has one of the hottest pop singles of the 60's as theme song.
Aug 10 · 478
Falling Again
Francie Lynch Aug 10
Our bees aren't social distancing,
As they buzz about the hive;
The ants aren't wearing masks
In their pismires, yet they thrive.

Racoons wash without soap,
Llamas spit  without remorse,
Monkeys' feces fill the air,
Dogs are crapping everywhere,
The watering holes of the Kalahari
Have larger crowds
Than political rallies.

Every insect, bird and beast,
With scale or feather, beak or teeth,
With legs or wings, bellies or fins,
Still swim or fly, walk or crawl;
We succumbed before them all.
It's back to Eden,
Back to the fall.
Jul 24 · 109
My Loss
Francie Lynch Jul 24
I hold him responsible
For the loss of my humanity.
I used to be so understanding, forgiving, empathetic;
But now,
I'm more gladdened than saddened
To see Americans,
Unemployed, homeless, hungry, sick and dying
By the tens of thousands -
By the tens of thousands!
And the multitude of losses
Will be our final solution
For Herr Donald.
Is this what it takes to get rid of the Donald? This never should have happened.
All my best hopes are still alive for the American people.
Jul 22 · 329
Francie Lynch Jul 22
I cashed in my hard-earned youth
On you.
I'm emotionally bankrupt,
Overdrawn on account of you.
There are insufficient funds in the vault
For future investments.
Besides, you have the combination;
So, I wait for a safe *******
With the velvet touch.
NSF: Non-sufficient funds
Jul 21 · 107
Fermi Paradox, 2070
Francie Lynch Jul 21
My grandchildren will read
The year had already passed,
By the time they were born,
To stop climate change.
I don't know how they will get the information.
I don't know when they will get the information.
I don't know from what or whom it will be delivered,
Or how it will be communicated.
I'm sure the news won't and shouldn't come from me;
Although it came duplicitously from me, and others;
Driving them everywhere, flying around, BBQing animals.
And all the entrapments of a twentieth century middle class life.
The grandkids will have serious questions,
Like Why?
I have loved you to death.
Will there be any to answer
When the signal arrives in 2070?
Jul 20 · 107
Deus ex machina
Francie Lynch Jul 20
Do we really believe
That it's as simple
As a coincidence,
The words,
Spoke, wrote and vote
There are bigger pictures out there
Than my phone screen.
Phone, home, alone...
Tell me that's serendipitous.
What about
Frump, Lump, Dump, Trump.
That's not chance.
That's Divine.
Francie Lynch Jul 19
During dinner talk
I hear her say,
His poems are very clever.
She said it loud, and all could hear;
(she said it out of spite)
And some who heard her say it, thought,
Isn't she so nice.

Clever. Clever. Clever.
Clapped inside my head,
For earlier she reproached me
For not reaching out instead.
I should ladle bowls of soup,
Drive the elderly wherever,
Volunteer to save the planet,
Comfort those in need of such,
Or visit with the sick.

Clever.  Cleverer.  Cleverest.
So clever when she spoke;
I find it now so obvious,
She'd not read a word I wrote.
"Your poetry is clever, but you need to do something for the benefit of others... blah, blah, blah." The nerve of some people. My anti-trump ******* poems have been read by millions, thank you ma'am.
Jul 10 · 122
The New American Dream
Francie Lynch Jul 10
If I was a bigot,
Or xenophobic,
Or prejudiced,
Or sexist,
Or racist,
Or even Evangelical,
I would argue
The Wrath of God
Has enveloped America,
Like a plague.
But I'm not, I'm a non-believer.
Jun 30 · 401
By the Ears
Francie Lynch Jun 30
It's not a macho thing.
It's not a Republican choice.
He's not worried
We won't hear his voice.
He just can't wear a mask,
It's not because of manly fears;
It's just Putin
Likes to hold
**** lickers by their ears.
The mask would keep slipping off with each lick.
Jun 29 · 403
A Worldly Poem
Francie Lynch Jun 29
I'd like to read a poem
Written by our world;
In any style, it won't matter:
A sonnet or an ode?
In rhyme or free verse?
Figurative or Found?
But, and this is critical,
The world must write it
To help heal our wounds,
Share our victories and good values,
And expose us in mixed metaphors
In all our human frailties.
It's a poem we'll all understand.
And each spot on Earth,
Every country that's birthed,
Adds a personal verse.
Allow me to read this poem
To all our nations,
With a theme to unite us
As the one and only human race.
Found Poetry: A bit of prose in poetic form. Can be found anywhere.
Francie Lynch Jun 27
"If everyone around you is forced into the Bubble,
Then you don't need to wear a mask."
                                                           D. Trump
Jun 13 · 1.5k
Record Breaking
Francie Lynch Jun 13
I wear an old 45 for skin.
Side A is the surface you see;
White and pale under our winter's skies,
But much darker by September.
Side A does a fine job
Keeping my entrails in.
I like the harmony, beat and rhythm of it.

Side B of my skin is harlequin,
A melting *** of mosaic colours
You can't see,
But if you listen,
My lyric is a palette of hues.
A 45 is a record with two songs. One on Side A, one on Side B. Whereas Trump is also #45, but he's two dimensional at best. :)
I was born
With white privilege;
Irish ethnicity at that.
Remember their holocausts!
Occupied, evicted, brutalized, lynched, starved, hedge-scbooled, and,
Refugeed on their own land,
And on and on, and so on
For seven hundred years.
These things were before my time,
But not my Granda's.
It's so very true,  I was born with white privilege,
But not with white entitlement.
Title suggested by song by Wild Cherry: "Play that funky music right/Play that funky music white boy/Lay down that boogie and play that funky music till you die..."
Jun 5 · 129
Bible Trumpers
For the sake of argument
Let's presuppose POTUS
Actually read the Bible.

Reporter: What's your favourite story from the O.T.
POTUS:    That David guy; when he grabs Bathsheba's *****.

Reporter: What's your favourite story from the N.T.
POTUS:    Pilate, when he washes his hands.
Jun 4 · 129
Pontius Potus
It's been two thousand years,
But here we are again.
An innocent dark-skinned man
Was lynched,
And it engages and enlightens our world.

Let's not make this a habit.

And Pilate's here too,
Cowering in ******'s bunker,
Washing his tiny hands,
Blathering: I'm not Responsible.
That's what truth is.
As George Floyd's daughter proclaimed: "My father has changed the world." I pray she's right.
Jun 3 · 259
I watched the bus drive down its route
With all kinds of fares on board;
Heading to some stop;
Each on a personal journey,
As important as any you've got.
The cord will pull,
The door will open
To let some traveller off,
As another steps into the bus.
On and on,
On and off,
They travel on their routes.

I used to ride a bus,
And I knew this back then;
Then I forgot for far too long,
I'm still on my journey friends.
May 22 · 769
Shifting Sands
Francie Lynch May 22
Here is my home town.
I'm lucky to live here,
To have grown here
With all our familiar streets and sights;
The houses where we lived together,
The homes of my childhood friends;
Our schools, churches and local attractions
Are mostly here.
The comings and goings of the locals
Are documented in The Observer.
Familiar and strange.

Today I see a city of cards and cardboard cut-outs.
Sarnia is a museum display of life
In the 21st century I study from this side
Of the display case.
In time, the partition separating us will dissolve
Into a pile of shifting sand about my feet.
Sarnia, Ontario, Canada
May 18 · 123
Floats and Stings
Francie Lynch May 18
Don't you admire his ringwork;
His footwork and speed?
Dance. Jab. Dance.
Did you see Rambonehead snap?
Glossy-eyed. Swollen and staggering
Like the bloated incumbent.
Jab. Dance. Jab.
The Dope's been roped.
The final count's on.
Obama only has to say a few words to stagger the Rambonehead.
He floats and stings.
May 15 · 1.6k
You Say You Won't Cry
Francie Lynch May 15
You say you won't cry
(and you know I know why),
But you will.
When memory reminds you
Of our life and thrills,
Our talks of love
In the park on the hill.
Our fear for our children,
Our love for each one,
Our love for each other
Before our love was gone.
You say you won't cry,
But you know you will.
Simple, repetitive wording.
Francie Lynch May 11
The Queen is in the Tower,
She decrees to step out;
But the bouffant needs some tending,
And Royal chin y chin hairs sprout.

The Queen is in the Tower,
She dines well when she eats;
But Lizzie's in a tizzy now,
No walk-abouts on her street.

The Queen is in the Tower,
Standard at full mast;
When the Union Flag is lowered,
Royal Heirs will know she passed.
Good old Queen Bee. Canada should abolish our connection with that expensive royal habit we have, and get on with being a Republic, like Ireland.
Francie Lynch May 10
Who dares enjoy your gold with you?
What good is it Midas? It's contaminated.
When will you, if ever, enjoy it again?
Where is your preferred seating now?
Why persist with your follies? Don't touch me.
There are no shows, theaters, arenas, ports of call, restaurants, flights, etc., where the rich can spend their gold. And anyone who makes a profit out of our misery, may they have the Midas Touch.
Apr 24 · 2.0k
Brave New World Order
Francie Lynch Apr 24
Let me take you back
Over ***-holed tracks
To present day nostalgia;
When six feet away meant a grave,
And not a rule of order.

Let me take you back
Through ***** air,
When smog and soot were normal;
We didn't attend strange masquerades,
Breathing wasn't formal.

Let me take you back
Down the spiral stairs,
When holding rails
Was common.

Would you,
Go back,
To that Brave Old World,
Where we have the poor,
Wars are raging,
The environment's in peril,
With despots engaging.
Hoarders cheat,
Ice-caps retreat,
Animals compete
With billions at the table.
Oceans over-heating,
Egos are defeating
The food chains of our world.
Forests burn bright,
Crops rot from blight,
None treat us right.
And a hundred thousand unsolved queries,
Compounded by some glorious leader.

Let's not go back,
Take small steps onward
Into our Brave Newer World,
That compels us forward.
A tip of the cap to Shakespeare.
Apr 22 · 1.5k
Thick, Thicker, Thickest
Francie Lynch Apr 22
They romp on hour glass beaches,
Tee-up North and down South;
Pack ****-straps in bleacher bags,
And gutters in ten pin alleys.

They're raging at the crosswalks,
Flail arms at intersections,
Like scarecrows on the Yellow Brick Road;
They foment insurrection.

The thick won't mitigate.
The thicker congregate.
The thickest dissipate.
Apr 20 · 272
I Was Born to Die
Francie Lynch Apr 20
I know death.
Incensed with all of it.
The weighty strain of darkness,
Eyes closed, stopped ears, stuffed nose.
I was petrified while the world stumbled,
My wordless mouth gapes like a maw
Needing stitches.
I lounge in a toga,
Motionless as alabaster.
I was born to die,
But not like this.
Apr 18 · 309
Present Worries (10W)
Francie Lynch Apr 18
Today's worries,
Now three days old,
Will be addressed
Apr 14 · 1.3k
Francie Lynch Apr 14
She said she needed
Some me time;
She was suffocating,
Couldn't breathe.
I paid too much attention.
She was right,
Though  pre-conceived.

But now, she seems alone.
Apr 14 · 190
Why Me
Francie Lynch Apr 14
I've passed the homeless on the street,
Wondering if today they'll eat,
And I cry, Why me?

I know plenty who attend AA,
And many who didn't make today,
And I cry, Why me?

I know there's millions unemployed,
As dwindling aid keeps them buoyed,
And I cry, Why me?

They're lonely and they're isolated,
The throngs, apart and dissipated,
And I cry, Why me?

Many friends and family die,
Yet still I cry, Why me?

Why me, indeed, a plaintiff wail.
Why me? Why me?
Until I fail.
It's a question many survivor's of disasters ask themselves.
Time to get out there and do something positive.
Apr 11 · 1000
A Dish Best Served Cold
Francie Lynch Apr 11
While cruising Corona on the net,
I saw pangolins not eaten yet.
Many, you see, believe its scales,
Are cure-alls to cure whatever ails.
And its meat festoons the rich Asian table.

Who ate the pangolin from head to toe.

China lauds its laws to say they save
The endangered pangolins,
At home, in Asia;
Yet in Wuhan, locked live in cages,
In wet markets like our Dark Ages,
The scaly pangolin is sold.

But Revenge,
We know,
Is a dish best served cold.
Apr 9 · 1.3k
Passover II : No Sir
"Wash your hands before eating
Your bitter herbs, figs, and unleavened bread,
Cause it ain't gonna happen.
No Sir."
As in all Partici-Poems,
You're invited to add your own.
Based on Fake News and False Hope,
There's nothing here to help you cope.

Covid-19 is China's Beta version.
The real pandemic is yet to come.
They now have a one year head start.
They've proved they can isolate and destroy
Without leaving their country.
The Sleeping Giant has opened its eyes.

It's the Real Rich people's way of getting Really Richer.
It's a deal maker.
You're Hired.

It's all about Government Opportunity.
Remember Get Smart and the CONTROL Organization
For whom he worked.
If the shoe fits, GPS someone.

If we send young healthy Jimmy (who tested positive)
In to see all the Grandmas and Grandpas,
Think of the resources we'll free up.

Manipulate the markets.
Tell people Russia and the Saudis are friends.
But tell your family first.

Not only will it cure you, but it promotes
Natural skin color, whether black, white, brown or orange.
This is supported by the WH Medical Dream Team.
It's a miracle. Deus ex machina.
Will also give you blue eyes and blonde hair.

And please use a clean syringe when injecting disinfectant.


You're supposed to add your own conspiracy.
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