A war on individual rights
is brewing in the U.S. of A.
Seems a woman has no control
over her body as of today
And how many more personal intrusions
are headed our way?
Seems we concerned poets ought
to be broadcasting our say!
One ideological group is taking advantage
of its political clout
Bandying all sorts of crazy
conspiracy theories and ideas about,
Creating chaos in our schools
over imaginary fears they spout --
Seems they ought to find something
better to do than shout.
Written May 6, 2022
All feels right with my world today,
so my inner child wants to play.
And I begin laughing out loud,
feeling as airy as a cloud.
A rhythmic vibe vibrates the air,
a natural beat pulses there.
And I can feel it in my bones,
a cacophony of soft tones.
Lyrics audition in my mind;
where words and music get combined.
And I want to shout out in glee,
happy to be alive and free.
The poet within me breaks out,
bandying witty words about.
And my muse starts strumming along,
spinning my words into a song.
You would not bet on cards in your hand,
Without knowing their face value.
You wouldn't plant seeds,
If you knew the plant they would grow into,
Would be of no worth to anyone.
You would not buy a car,
If you knew it was beyond repair.
Yet I hear you bandying about words,
That you think will impress,
Or shock,
Words whose meanings you have never learnt,
With values that you have failed to appreciate.
Yet words which in the right order,
And spoken at the right time,
Could have been the difference,
Between winning friends or losing them.
So, please learn the meaning of the words,
Before the meanings are no more.
Misconceptions so often prevail,
They rob us of honest detail,
They clutter the mind,
With notions that bind,
Of the cleverest female or male.
We really should root them all out,
Removing the reason to doubt,
That the tales we are told
By the young and the old
Are really worth bandying about.
To tell you the truth I despair
At the apple that fell through the air,
And struck Isaac’s head
Releasing the thread
Of the theory of gravity there.
When Washington’s dentures you view
It’s simply not right to construe
That they’re made out of wood
For wood is no good
That popular myth is not true.
Michelangelo, its widely known,
Lay on his back ’neath the dome
Of the Sistine to paint,
Well that’s something that ain’t,
So the next time you hear it please moan!
We are parasites on the earth,
We are bandying words with our creator,
Babylon is burning blue,
And the people are getting scared of you.
england will be drowned by tears,
Who wants to live another year,
Christmas is over, A misonomer,
Survival on the shore.
The wreckage of carriageways,
Jacknifed and strewn,
Every voice speaks of doom,
From morn till noon.
The rich are now begging in doorways,
The homeless have taken back what is yours,
The underground know the score,
All we ever wanted was more.
OLD BEANS
Differences make strang bedfellows ewe listen to the mee old bean old bean
rhymes with caviar behind the bar the windows closed the lights are low no one
is bandying about the place just mee and ewe and no disgrace in love and
kisses sweeter two of them are mine one of them for ewe so sweetly planted by
the ewe on hands so roughened by the tasks of mee and used just to survive for
ewe the one eye have for ewe is Christmas wine so sweetly given and will last a
Christmas missing as eye rhyme a thought for ewe
OLD BEANS
Green Bean Old Bean Old Man
Lima Bean Young Bean Old Woman
Can beans Gone Beans Young Love
Love Beans Kiss Beans We Beans
Heart Beans Heart Beans Love
This is Christmas Poem for my Flower done.
OLD BEANS
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