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Robert Ippaso Mar 2020
Tension palpable, one can cut it with a knife
As the quiet assassin glides with unfettered ease,
Wreaking mayhem, misery and strife,
Choosing victims from anyone he sees.

No border, boundary, wall to hold
This wily master of his trade,
His mere presence causing misery untold,
Scant protection from his voracious blade.

We can but hold our loved ones tight
In private prayer and contemplation,
Hoping, wishing with all our might
To yet defeat this aberration.

Is this punishment deserved,
Are we the ones to hold the blame
For having nature so disturbed,
For playing God in all but name.

Do we now reap what we have sown,
Our failing clear for all to see,
Could we truly not have known
And simply left our Earth just be.
Robert Ippaso Feb 2020
Did you watch it, what a show
Little Mikey slammed around,
Battered slowly blow by blow
With accusations that astound.

Pocahontas on the war path,
She’s the one that wields the axe,
Indignation, poisoned wrath
Her solutions just more tax.

Crazy Bernie full of zeal
Flaring nostrils squinting eyes,
Somewhat bridled brought to heel,
Marxist fervor cut to size.

Sleepy Joe clearly not there
A hologram appearing in his place,
To his chances not a prayer
Slipping badly from the race

Mayor Pete, Amy who?
Going at it head to head,
Lots of insults, no breakthrough
Further progress all but dead.

So who won you might well ask
All who watched could that one see,
There's but one person for the task
And that person's clearly me.
Robert Ippaso Feb 2020
There’s a part of me that say’s I’m jealous
Another thinks my golfing friends just zealous,
Whilst I crave fresh air and healthy motion
They’re busy slathering on the lotion
Before they mount some little cart
That with intent they simply point to dart
At breakneck speed from hole to hole
The putting of that little ball the goal.

Then there’s the clubs, that myriad bunch
The choice of which for them the crunch,
To make the shot or fail once more
Blaming each for that bad score.
Tortured, ruffled, discontent,
They soon repair to that drinks tent
To then replay the whole long game
Masterful excuses quickly turning lame.

But here’s the crunch and my dilemma
The doubt that heightens my antenna,
What are they hiding, sharing not a bit
Of why such torture never makes them quit,
Instead they plan and scheme each waking hour
For that free day the calendar they scour,
When they once more may hold that special club
With surging will some dainty green to stub.
Robert Ippaso Feb 2020
I’m confused
At times bemused
By the turn society’s taking,
Sexuality so complex
Gender needing further context
All my preconceptions breaking.

Are cows good
On this we brood
Carbon footprint the new quandary,
Should we fly
Or cycling try
A simpler world I recall fondly.

Left or Right
The current fight
Politicians all grandstanding,
Little caring
Overbearing
Of our hearts and minds demanding.

To take part
Is quite an art
Every word now needing measure,
Opinions rue
So fast to sue
No surprise the past I treasure.
Robert Ippaso Feb 2020
“Comrade Bernie's in full swing
Arms flailing, fingers pointing,
Like a possessed puppet on a string
To his legions never disappointing.”

“We're a movement young and strong
Forward thinking, kind to all,
They call us mad but that's so wrong
Such a thought takes quite some gall”.

“We in turn look on bemused
The Stars and Stripes turning to the Sickle,
To put it mildly we're confused
Democrats floundering in a pickle.”

“Little do they understand
Momentum's on our side;
From our crusade we'll never bend
We march united like the tide.”

“Yet Trump's laughing with great glee
Re-election firmly in his sight,
Bernie's pitch a hollow plea
Republicans itching for the fight.”

“They may mock us, underrate
Wait and see, watch and learn;
Our revolution simply fate,
Love the man, feel the Bern.

Who is wrong and who is right
In this battle for our hearts,
One thing’s sure it will be tight
Once we get through all the barbs.
Robert Ippaso Feb 2020
So many words, such boring waffle
Posturing peacocks, whispering snakes,
Actions so twisted doubtful if lawful
A bunch of connivers, dithering flakes.

In the House which they rule
They pointed and frowned
Lectures unending as if back at school,
Comments unwelcomed, arguments drowned.

Then to the Senate the matter was sent
Pelosi's grandstanding the Media in tow,
Swaying opinion her only intent
Her hands animated, her face all aglow.

But Mitch was just waiting,
Lurking, knives drawn,
Biding his time skillfully baiting,
For he had the Queen, they just the Pawn.

Here comes their bleating
Lost sheep wailing foul
They accuse us of cheating
Which makes me just howl.
Boy I like winning
It's such a huge high,
I so can't stop grinning
While watching them cry.

Now the deal's done
This farce put to bed,
I'll continue to stun
As I forge way ahead

They thought they could win
By playing the part
But if acting's a sin
I've mastered that art.

Another four years
Of me and my tribe,
No matter their tears
To me they'll subscribe.
Robert Ippaso Jan 2020
Are those tears of sorrow or pure wrath,
God’s anger at mankind
Put on earth to tread his path,
Just to see us stumbling blind.

Little knowing, quite uncaring
Of our world so full of life,
Wanton damage truly glaring,
Callous actions clearly rife.

Have we suddenly forgotten,
Is our arrogance that strong,
That we too were once downtrodden,
But a cog in nature’s throng.

Now we act as Lord and Master,
Spitting sentence with huge swaths,
Destruction fostered ever faster
Life’s fabric swarmed by human moths.

Time to pause, soak in the wonder
At Earth’s bounty in all it’s forms,
Embrace God’s gift and stop the plunder,
Live our lives by Nature’s norms.
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