Green grass is fading...
Autumn etches its coming...
Waving leaves soon fall...
Morale-Boosting Award
Moves an artist forward,
Farewell to The Backward,
His perception as ‘Ward’
A new image of ‘Lord’
Nice creations onward…
Fear-Checking Award
Is a commanded reward,
Expecting it a horde
Like a protective sword…
A spirit is lifted,
Its owner proved gifted,
Future efforts trusted;
More jobs self-entrusted…
For Fame name drafted:
A New Stem is grafted.
Homelessness
Painful, Grievous
Challenging, humbling, Saddening
Answers, Love, Resolution, Change
Caring, Sharing, Acknowledging, Trying
Creative, Innovative
Hopefulness
082121PSC, Diamante Poetry For Fun, Caren Krutsinger. 1P
A system of checks and balances
Is the fulcrum of democracy
Governments write many checks
But their budgets never balance
~ So how about plutocracy
How finely grind the checks and balances,
the system that minds the store.
To delve into the lies and challenges,
oh boy, what a national chore.
11/7/19
Pithy Pome Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy
Our President is not very bright
He paced his bedroom all through the night
So filled up with pride
He clapped 'til he cried:
"How does a Limey turn off the light?
Do you live your whole life
in a half empty space
Do you swear up and down
your excuses defaced
Do you sing in a choir
where the music has died
Do you brand all as liars
as your tongue remains tied
Do you rob from the master
just to steal from the slave
Do you hide in a mansion
built on top of your grave
Do you look for direction
trails barren and thin
Does your soul beg correction
torn away from within
Do you begin every sentence
tracing back to the past
Do you waste precious moments
—writing checks you can’t cash
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)
Do you live your whole life
in a partially filled space
Do you swear up and down
about reasons defaced
Do you sing in a choir
where the music has died
Do you brand all as liars
as your knots remain tied
Do you rob from the master
just to steal from the slave
Do you live in a mansion
built on top of your grave
Do you look for direction
on trails hollow and thin
Does your soul beg correction
torn away from within
Do you begin every sentence
tracing back to the past
Do you live every moment
—writing checks you can’t cash
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2016)
Nobody likes to get anything like this:
I always assume I deal with legitimate business.
I don’t accept personal checks when I want to be paid.
Getting those instruments returned makes anyone afraid.
Seeing “NSF” stamped on checks fills me with rage.
I get as angry as a wild beast in a cage.
For depositing bad checks, my bank charges hefty fees.
My fists can get hard enough to knock down trees.
If you don’t want me to shoot you with my guns,
don’t ever send me a check drawn on insufficient funds.
February 20, 2013
The brain’s a clever system
For keeping things in check.
It stops you getting dizzy
Every time you turn your neck.
Your balance is adjusted
With every move you make;
But if the signal’s off, the world
Starts spinning by mistake.
A therapist can teach you
Just what makes your body tick.
Some exercises help
But only time will do the trick.
There’s so much we don’t know
About the workings of the brain.
I marvel at the complex paths
That make up its terrain.
Can you see the people moving?
Do you see them fighting?
Not with their arms and fists, stupid,
Rather with their minds and thoughts.
“Life is short and then you die”,
Thumps through a pair of headphones.
The owner isn’t smiling, rather scowling, or impasse.
I stay seated on my park bench,
And ignore the hobo, snoring his life to me.
Beside me on the park bench.
The hobo snores contently,
Onto the unassuming walkers,
A dreamy smile pasted on his lips.
So what if his content isn’t rational?
So what if he is happier with less?
Does that mean a thing?
Isn’t your life a mess?
The dog beside him licks his dirty nose,
And he wakes, serenely smiling.
He pats the dog, and plays with its ears,
And grabs for happiness, under the bench.
Its not long before he is snoring again,
His dogs’ head on his waste, glances at me,
And licks its joules.
The hobo is still snoring,
But I am walking into the distance,
With his dog and his drink!
Social Security Checks May Not Be Sent
By Elton Camp
Earth to Washington: What’s going on up there?
Into millions of people you are throwing a scare
We played for decades by the rules that you set
And now what we have earned, we may not get?
Of a great many people, what do you expect to come?
Since their Social Security check is their sole income
And others included having it in their retirement plan
Now to send it on time, you are not certain you can!
To think we provide an extravagant living to vermin
Who, how to get a budget set, can’t or won’t determine
Let’s hope those folks are right who say there’s no doubt
That before the deadline is reached, they’ll figure it out
They tangle and they twist; wear diamonds on their wrist;
Their security is spying; and they say that you are lying;
You yelled and jeered and hissed; and now you’re on their list;
And with their time they’re biding; till they keep you down and hiding