Oh, the decisions of the heart.
       To live without your voice,
                 or let it tear me apart.

Gods, guns, and gerrymandering.
That's the Republican Party today--
At least a large, vociferous group
That keeps progressive ideas at bay.

White evangelicals,
Tightly knit and fortified
By the perception that God hates the Dems,
Think that they have God on their side.

Claiming to know the mind of God,
They use their dogma to legislate
And ignore the fundamental idea
Of the separation of church and state.

Ah, their weapons. They love their firearms,
Of which they have collected tons.
Instead of beating their swords into plowshares,
They've beaten their plowshares into guns.

And gerrymandering has, of course,
Become their crafty survival tool.
They plan to manipulate future elections
By strengthening minority rule.

Through God, guns, and gerrymandering,
They hope to keep their momentum going
By building their power and also keeping
Their piles of ammunition growing.

-by Bob B (12-13-21)

Wisconsin senator Ron Johnson--
An anti-vaxxer who's super odd--
Thinks that scientists pretend
To know what's correct--more than God--

About vaccines for fighting pandemics.
Could God be so anti-chem?
Has Johnson considered that scientists
Are right 'cause God is working through them?

The senator is quite presumptuous
To think he has a link to God's mind,
When in actuality,
There's something else with which he's aligned.

-by Bob B (1-10-22)

Though I'm gone, I couldn't stay.
You can bring me back any day,
Meet me in your mind, and
we can play.

The feel of sand beneath the toes.
The smell of sea breeze fills the nose.
The sigh of foaming surf soothes the ears.
The heady taste of a few cold beers.
Where the ocean meets the sky,
Oh so easy on the eye.
Leaving everyday troubles behind.
In a paradise state of mind.

TO THE COSMIC SEEKERS, AND PIOUS WITH NO DOUBT,
MAYBE THE ANSWER, OUR BRAIN NOT DESIGNED TO FIGURE IT OUT.
COLLECTIVELY WHAT OUR BRAINS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED NO LESS THAN MYTHIC.
WHAT THEY CAN DREAM, MAY DWELL ONLY IN THE REALM OF THE MYSTIC.

Leaving the forest in an enlightened mood,

A hemlock root did intrude.

Sending me crashing upon my knee.

And the crow flew away mocking me.

Another day
      has slipped away,
and in that time,
      the choice was mine.
To make the world, more bright.
      doing what, I know is right.
Did I cause, someone to smile,
      did I go that extra mile.
Was I quick to lend a hand,
       was I forgiving of my fellow man.
If I failed yesterday,
       may I succeed, if I get "another day."

Take the language of humanity,
    Choose the words that Sing, to Thee.
Arrange with the precision of universal time.
   Write them down in perfect composition, and rhyme.
Leave us mortals, one and all,
    Envious, and filled with awe.
                 Speak to me,
                         Speak to me
                                    In poetry.