When growing up, I never had
The feeling that I was a finicky *****,
And even though it wasn't a custom
For us to parade around in the ****,

My easygoing Midwestern parents
Never felt that it would befoul
Our minds if after bathing they
Returned to their bedroom wrapped in a towel.

I learned, however, that some people were
In many respects less modest than others.
For instance, my friend's mother's behavior
Was very different from my mother's.

We'd be playing--my friend and I--
When all of a sudden his mom would prance
Into his room not wearing a thing,
Almost as though she was doing a dance.

It was…different, but not for me
A reason for laughing, fleeing, or fainting.
I was used to seeing scores
Of nudes in many a Renaissance painting.

Unfazed, my friend and I continued
To do whatever we were playing
As though we had merely witnessed his mom
Vacuuming, baking pies, or crocheting.

We humans are the only mammals
That stifle our belches, excuse our farts,
And feel that it's very necessary
To cover up our private parts--

Unless you are a nudist, of course.
That, we know, is a different matter.
So, birthday suit or covered body?
I think I will stick with the latter.

I have been to **** beaches
Both in the States and overseas.
Instead of feeling liberated,
I felt a little bit ill at ease.

I do not find ******
Offensive at all, so please take note:
If that's your thing, then be my guest
And do whatever floats your boat.

If "clothes make the man," as the saying goes,
****** levels the playing field.
But I feel more relaxed if certain
Body parts remain concealed.

-by Bob B (5-20-24)

I remember when I was a youth
How consoling it was to know
That I had little to worry about.
Ah, but that was long ago.

If, perchance, the roof had a leak,
Dad would be up there in a flash
To find the problem, and once he did,
Off to the hardware store he would dash.

Electrical trouble? He had it down.
Plumbing issues? No problem at all.
He examined the situations,
Addressing the problems large and small.

If my mom wanted a door
Moved from one wall to another,
My dad got out the sledgehammer.
Anything to please my mother.

Carpentry was not his thing.
That is where he came up short.
Intellectual creativity
Was his passion, his love, his forte.

My mom was super organized
And ready for any circumstance.
She handled the bills, managed the home,
And planned our meals weeks in advance.

Multi-talented she was!
She cooked and baked, knocked down fences,
Gardened, and kept us kids in line.
Discipline meant consequences.

She even managed to work for a store
As a bookkeeper. We always knew
That everything was under control,
Though we were far from well-to-do.

We kids all had our weekly chores,
Which we begrudgingly did, of course.
However, the way my folks made us feel
Safe and secure was a tour de force.

Life is very different now.
There's no way that I can repair
Leaky roofs, wiring, or plumbing.
I couldn't even on a dare.

I know how to call an electrician,
Plumber, roofer--anyone
To handle concerns at which I'm inept.
I want repairs correctly done.

But every so often I catch myself
Being at peace in my childhood room,
Thinking that all was well with the world
And having no thoughts of doom or gloom.

Young and naïve, all I knew
Was my little world, safe and secure.
Threats to that tranquility
Were imperceptible, obscure.

Little did I know at the time
That life for others wasn't so sweet,
That some lacked food and shelter and had
Difficulty making ends meet,

That some were caught in the middle of clashing
Armies, that innocent people were dying,
That people struggled for rights and freedom,
That life for some was horrifying.

Naïveté and complacency--
As comfortable as they might seem--
Can insulate us from world problems
As though we're living in a dream,

One from which we must awaken.
And when we do, we have to decide
Whether we'll work to better the world
Or stay in our comfy cocoon and hide.

-by Bob B (5-19-24)

(This poem can be sung to the melody of the old folk song "Tom Dooley.")

(chorus)
What did you want, Ned Kelly?°
What gave you grounds for hope?
Well, Ned, it can't be fun when
You're hanging from a rope.

Bushranger°° Harry Power…
Was he a loyal mate?
They say he was your mentor
Who led you to your fate.

Victims of persecution--
That's what you said you were.
Victims of your gang's horse theft
Would not at all concur.

Bush larrikins°°° were suspect.
Rather than get a job
You chose a different path when
You joined the Greta Mob.

Some say you were a hero
Who thought he was doing good.
You said the poor need justice;
You were their Robin Hood.

Others call you an outlaw,
Killer, and evil guy.
You killed with no compunction,
So you deserved to die.

(chorus)
What did you want, Ned Kelly?°
What gave you grounds for hope?
Well, Ned, it can't be fun when
You're hanging from a rope.

Your gang shot three policemen
Camped at Stringybark Creek.
Who then would put a stop to
Your game of hide and seek?

You murdered Aaron Sherritt;°°°°
You thought he was a snitch.
Maybe you learned your lesson:
Karma could be a *****.

There at your final shootout
You lost your loyal friends.
Well, Ned, you learned that it was
Too late to make amends.

Right after you were sentenced,
Your judge made it his goal
To say he hoped that God would
Have mercy on your soul.

What he said didn't faze you.
You countered blow for blow.
You turned to him and said, "I'll
See you there where I go."

They led you to the gallows.
Different reporters said
What words you might have spoken
Before the rope fell, Ned.

(chorus)
What did you want, Ned Kelly?°
What gave you grounds for hope?
Well, Ned, it can't be fun when
You're hanging from a rope.

-by Bob B (5-16-24)

°Famous Australian outlaw (1854-1880)
°°Australians who took up "robbery under arms" and used the bush as their base
°°°Rowdies who defied social and political conventions
°°°°An associate of Ned Kelly's gang of outlaws

Have you ever heard of the clipper LOCH ARD?
Its story reminds us to be on our guard.
In 1878--oh, such grief!--
She shipwreck occurred when the ship hit a reef.

It happened just off the Australian coast--
Where shipwrecks caused many to give up the ghost--
Because of some miscalculations and fog
And not 'cause the captain was drinking his grog.

The crew had tried hard but could not get a grip
On any way that they could save the great ship.
Only two people--does this strike a chord?--
Survived of the 54 people on board.

A lucky crew member--Tom Pearce was his name--
Made sure survival became his chief aim.
A small upturned boat was for him within reach.
He hung on till he found himself on the beach.

Eva Carmichael was lucky as well.
She hung on to objects afloat in that hell.
When the young woman was pulled from the tide,
She learned that her folks and her siblings had died.

Tom had helped rescue her; he'd heard her cries.
He saw that she struggled and feared her demise.
The two nineteen-year-olds were both tired and sore.
They drank from some bottles that drifted ashore.

Tom searched for other survivors in vain.
He hoped that he had enough strength to sustain
His efforts to scale the sheer cliffs, which he did.
It could have been deadly in case he had slid.

After their rescue and it became known
How the survivors' two lives had been thrown
Together in such a way, people thought they--
Eva and Tom--would get married one day.

Could THIS be a love story starting to bud,
Or would their relationship end with a thud?
They shared a link that was special, of course;
But love is not something that people can force.

Both of them married but not with each other.
In Ireland years later she married another.
Tom and his wife had two sons who would be
On ships--sad but true--when they both died at sea.

As lovely as bodies of water appear,
Oceans and seas can be something to fear.
Eva and Tom were both lucky and brave.
The ocean came close to becoming their grave.

-by Bob B (5-14-24)

The year was 1998.
The day to celebrate my mother
In retrospect turned out to be
A day unlike any other.

Not because that Mother's Day
Was from any observation
Unique in form or different from
Any previous celebration.

No, that day was different, for
No matter how much in vain I'd strive
To turn back the clock, that day was
The last I saw my mother alive.

If only I had known, I would
Have had the greatest party of all
With music blaring, food galore,
And party guests from wall to wall.

That's what my mother would have deserved.
For her, however, it would suffice
Merely to be with family.
Reflecting on this, I have some advice.

When you're with family and friends,
This rule should be hard and fast:
Act as though that day together
Very well could be your last.

Show them your appreciation,
Love, devotion, and heartfelt concern.
Demonstrate your loving-kindness,
And you'll receive it in return.

The best way now to celebrate
My mom in actuality
Would be for me to be the person
She'd have wanted me to be.

Having our moms in our memories
And hearts is fine, but one thing's clear:
As wonderful as that might be,
It's not the same as having her here.

-by Bob B (5-12-24)

Ed was my mom's first cousin by marriage.
Thus, I guess to me,
First cousin once removed
By marriage he had to be.

He lived most of his life in the Land
Of Enchantment: New Mexico,
Where mesas and rugged mountains tower
And wailing desert winds blow.

I loved the phone conversations I had
With Ed and my cousin, for they
Were charming relatives who always
Had so much to say.

Separated by 800 miles,
We had to resort to the phone
To stay in touch, and when she died
And Ed was on his own,

We continued our phone conversations.
It was a sheer delight
To hear the knowledge and wisdom expounded
By someone so wise and bright.

Ed was a man of science and reason
And could get a little bit snarky
When people expressed unfounded beliefs.
Religion to him was malarkey.

We are saved by reason and NOT
By a mythological god.
Myths are fine if understood
As myths, but they are flawed.

He felt that sadly too many people
Do not use their brains.
Instead of trusting reason, they are
Bound by religious chains.

If I brought up astrology
Or Tarot ***** nilly,
Ed would laugh and say that he
Found them just as silly.

Ed would say that reason should guide
Politics as well.
Too many people share the home
Where folly and ignorance dwell.

Whether or not you agreed with him,
You could always be sure
That when you conversed, you'd be on
A fascinating tour.

Ed wanted to donate his body
To science after his death
And made arrangements to do so once
He took his final breath.

In December 2022,
He peacefully died in his sleep.
Great times and great conversations are
The memories I'll keep.

I think about what a character
He was and have to laugh.
"A man who wouldn't put up with nonsense"
Should be his epitaph.

-by Bob B (5-11-24)

(This D.T. monologue could be sung to the melody of Billy Joel's "Honesty.")

I'm not seeking truth or love;
They won't help me climb.
I just want what lets me get ahead.
Wealth and recognition are
What matter at this time,
For I will not need either when I'm dead.

Loyalty is what I really need;
It will always make my day.
Loyalty will help me to succeed
To make sure folks do what I say.

I want folks to say to me
The things I want to hear.
Everything's transactional to me.
It's known that power and control
Are two things I revere.
I will not do anything for free.

Loyalty is what I really need;
It will always make my day.
Loyalty will help me to succeed
To make sure folks do what I say.

(bridge)
People have betrayed me;
Some have turned their backs.
They stupidly believe that I'll be numb to their attacks.
But, **** it, I'll go after them
And stop them in their tracks!
You'll see, you'll see, you'll see….

People who will work for me
Know what I expect.
I expect allegiance through and through.
But if they prove untrustworthy,
We'll have a huge disconnect.
They MUST be members of my MAGA coup!

Loyalty is what I really need;
It will always make my day.
Loyalty will help me to succeed
To make sure folks do what I say.

-by Bob B (5-8-24)