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The time will arrive soon
to pick a new pope
and here is where I am confused
I had no idea an American Baseball team
chooses the next pope
the St Louis Cardinals though
will have a tough job
I wasn't aware their stadium was called the Conclave
but there you have it
if they win the world series
and pick a new pope
they will have killed two birds with one stone
so to speak
A little bit of humor in these dark times, of note the Pope donated his "Pope Mobile" to be used as a front like medical clinic to help the children of Gaza, some will say a small deed, however symbolic to what side he was on, the side of humanity. ( he did far more behind the scenes that the Zionists hated)
Dom 1d
Waning light
How it holds a special place
Glow over these everglades
Fireflies flicker in flight
Strobing stars twinkling from afar
We were always chasing.
Random thoughts
There’s no wind on this mild noon,
While I sit and heed the birds,
Whose songs flutter through static air
From trees in infant bud.

Gnats fly close and dart from my hand,
Scouting the field of my face—
A grievous offense to my peace,
Teasing my patience with some game.

And now, this stingy zephyr,
That denies its easing balm—
With venomous chuckle, it watches
Me stricken with violent discomfort.

The trees, those rogues, seem to mock,
Snubbing incessant insect assaults.
They’re truly quite vicious—
Leering, too idle to offer me shade.

And why are these birds so loud?
What could they possibly need to say
That’s so direly crucial,
That their nettlesome tumult go on?

Standing with petulant ire,
I stomp my retreat from this place,
Bidding nature a stormy farewell,
Bellowing bitter, barbed refrains.

To every chirp, a scornful shout;
To every rustle, a spiteful glance.
The trees will hear of my affront,
And suffer for this wasted time.
©️2025 David Cornetta
Dom 2d
Nothing like the smoky atmosphere of a dense city,
When you walk through the crowded sidewalks,
Cross through the busy streets,
And find yourself in good company.

The air seems lighter,
Fragranced with bourbons and bergamot
Various colognes and scents crafts a potpourri
Unique aromatic symphonies tickling the nose -
The only way a good bar can.

I'm parched by the time I hit the bartop,
Shoulder to shoulder with other patrons
As casual conversation flows like the taps,
And then I am asked, "What'll it be?"

How could I resist the sensation?
Smooth caramel-colored bourbon,
The sweet seductive tingly tango of vermouth
And the tangy fiesty bite of bitters,
Place that dagger pick through the cherries
And let me sip on that elegance.

A little dash of heaven,
In a crowded room.
one of my go-to cocktails at the bar after a busy week
Dom 3d
Honestly spent,
That’s the way it feels
When these lids feel like lead anchors
But the Dread drags on drifting through my secrets
And I’m wide awake despite eyes rolling back.

I can’t see you
If I don’t have the paraffin
It’s too **** dark in here,
Hand me a match and a wick
And I’ll shed a light,
But beware as what haunts me will find you
In the ways that mortify,
So don’t blink for a second.

We dance like macabre skeletons
In circles with our pockets full of posies
Ignite from the heat of the sun
and with our ashes we all fall down.
Just watch me twirl in lachrymose skies
Weeping from the clouds while I
Tend to the truth.

I would die for you.
Sometimes depression makes you lose sight on what’s important
They say love makes the world go ‘round…

But try proposing without a diamond that whispers loud…
Money…

Family dinners full of smiles and fights repressed…
Money…

Cousins showing up at Christmas looking freshly blessed…
Money…

The secret to youth? It’s not kale or prayer…
Money…

Just a surgeon, a syringe, and some derriere repair…
Money…

You want the Nobel? Sure, write your thesis with flair…
Money…

But someone still paid for that tenured chair…
Money…

The kids need books, a laptop, and a chance to dream…
Money…

Also Wi-Fi, tutoring, and a school with steam…
Money…

Evolution gave us fire, but civilization gave us class…
Money…

And the biggest difference between king and ***…
Money…

You want to change the world? Start a cause? Break a curse?
Money…

Or you’ll be that guy with vision… and an empty purse…
Money…

Science needs data, equipment, and trust…
Money…

Also snacks for the lab, and a fridge that won’t rust…
Money…

Want to flirt, be adored, radiate that spark?
Money…

Or stay home, scroll apps, and die in the dark…
Money…

Even funerals aren’t free, your last “to-do”…
Money…

Because dying is easy, but burial? Whew…
Money…

So next time someone tells you it isn’t everything…
Money……

So here’s your truth, wrapped neat and funny:
Everything you touch, trust, taste, or tolerate runs on…
Money…
If this poem made you uncomfortable, don’t worry, it’s probably just your bank account recognizing itself in the mirror. Side effects may include existential budgeting and spontaneous side hustles.
How many shades of gray can you count
Staring up at the rain clouds?
Would you be able to name them,
Give them a purposeful pallet in which to contrast against
Would they go well with marble or subway tile?
Could you see it defaulting a room to a “create-a-character” meh?

Could you assign them to moods?
Let each shade or shape of the clouds tell a story
Each one or color depicts a mental illness and how it cascades in the mind.
What depicts depression, is it the darkest gray or the lightest?
How would you label the spectrum?

What of the rain?
Could we categorize how it pours down?
If it’s by its sides is it sliding into indifference?
What about the dull droll of straight down,
Is that just melancholic, or simply a chance to shower outside?
Let the natural spritz renew with vigorous remiss
And chase away sorrow in cool or warm damp praise.

Whatever the case,
However, the time is spent in malaise
Remember the sun will return,
And so too will color.
It's a rainy day and bumming me out, so this is what my brain concoted
One step back, two steps forward,
Swing around and do the dance,
Keep it fast, a little awkward
A whole world audience to entrance.

Now you've got them captivated
Up the tempo, raise the heat,
Some may need to be sedated
As they wither from your beat.

Hearts loud-pounding, foreheads thumping,
Gasping air among the shouts,
Doomsayers bleating, markets jumping,
Second guessing, full of doubts.

Quite the showman, what a show,
Media breathless wanting more,
Fans elated, bask in tow,
Others crowing, keeping score.

Just the start, watch him work,
Revelations by the day,
Not all true, surprises lurk,
Act with haste, keep foes at bay.

As for us enthralled spectators
Barely able to keep track,
Cajoled and pressed by paid narrators,
Every week a heart attack.

If we can but drown the chatter,
Keep a cool head, crack a smile,
Train our thoughts to things that matter,
Take the long view, wait a while.

Let the music work its magic,
His gyrations entertain,
Learn that life need not be tragic,
See the sunshine through the rain.

RAI 5/25
Political Satire and to help us reflect
Dom 7d
Devil’s gone and took your smile
***** deeds done marked you wild
And you change your mind like seasons
Falling down like amber leaves,
But your heart is rendered in ice —
Hoping he leaves but the
Spring blossom of your thoughts
Could not deny the summer fires that burn in you.

So give ‘em hell, let their eyes betray
By the way you work that switch in your sway
Hell hat no fury like you do
And do to me what you oughta do
I won’t protest this autumnal view
I’m going down, like a tree by axe hew
Just to see your point of view.

Oh it feels good
One more ale and I’ll meet with you pale rider
We can talk by the pits, roast ourselves by the fires
Maybe I can give back your smile
Oh ***** deeds done, you’re so wild.
Country music/southern rock inspired
When it comes
to the verdict

— no noose
is good noose
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