Walking outside and the streets are all hopping;
People are strolling or eating or shopping.
Maskers are few and their numbers are dropping
As Covid recedes from the news.
Diners and bars are all crowded and busy;
Sidewalk cafes feature drinks tall and fizzy.
Traffic and bicycles pass in a tizzy
As new storefronts make their debuts.
Out in Ukraine there are bombs that are flying;
People are hiding or fighting or dying,
Yet in Manhattan there is no denying
That Covid and war are taboos.
World War II vet, aged one hundred,
once risked his life for his mother land.
His country in a Covid war,
he once again lent them a hand.
Once youthful legs now needing aid
of walkers, this Thomas Moore did give
the battle-strength he still possessed,
so that Covid patients might live.
One hundred laps around his yard
with his walker, he raised some funds,
about thirty-three million pounds
for patients. The whole world was stunned!
Knighted by Queen Elizabeth,
to his name was added “Sir”.
He and the Queen, standing in sun,
knew not what would later occur.
Screaming mobs of anti-maskers
in America and beyond,
spewed bursts of droplets everywhere,
so Covid could never get gone.
It flew and hitch-hiked everywhere,
invaded the home of Sir Tom,
conquering his warrior grit,
killing him just like a bomb.
These people still start such riots,
not believing they really slay
people like our Sir Thomas Moore.
Yet they’ll never be made to pay.
A video was on the news
In front of Trader Joe’s
Where anti-maskers want to shop
And this is how it goes:
The manager and other staff
Stay calm but do not budge,
Repeating that for all beliefs
They aren’t there to judge.
However, as a private store
They get to make the rules
With wearing masks required,
Which each anti- ridicules.
The store is well within its rights
But still the group won’t leave,
Convinced the law is on their side;
The truth they can’t perceive.
At Trader Joe’s, employees
Have been noted for displays
Of friendliness and patience;
Someone give these guys a raise!
I think that I can guarantee
That many who remain mask-free
Make others who are rules-obsessed
Both furious and super-stressed
And wishing they could find a way
To make uncovered faces pay
For those whose nose and mouth are bare
Are thus proclaiming, “I don’t care!”
The maskers of the world retain
Their diligence, perhaps in vain
Unless vaccines will set them free;
I hope that there’s a dose for me!
(a parody of "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer
for the contest of L Milton Hankins)
Father above,
why are we dying?
No matter how hard we try
we can’t stop mothers from crying.
Everything we see.
Hear. Read.
In this place
is only to mislead
Those in power
Cheat. Lie. Steal.
They’re hidden agenda
we’ve began to reveal.
Why can’t we try
to unite
to come together
and fight.
Too many brothers
bleeding
Too many fathers
leaving
Too many sisters
being raped
too many mothers
being abused.. on tape
Our Heavenly Father
is growing tired
of your blatant disrespect
he’s about to put your asses in check.
Today our lord is in tyranny of the terra bound
Caught in barrier of the ruler,
From the hidden the maskers are engineering
And plotting,
The peoples being cursed of their rage
Are anti party one to other,
When to break up the chain of this sick society by the gentlemen!
And their standing under treaty?
Hay, fool peoples- your lord is today
Caught in their jail,
For how long shall you be stop paralyzed
In the pain of venom,
Just for once bring free that great soul
Who shall be the defendant,
And that great soul shall serve to all
The fragrance of red-green.
Oh! generous farmers labors youths
Oh! the joy of God,
Rise once again destroy
All their tricks,
They will never hear
To any your says of sorrow,
So, in the revitalization, rise yourself- rise others
Be the joy of dedicated leader.