There once was a bucket from Nantucket
[Trump*]'s aides must make time to lug it
While running for office
His sh!t from each orifice
Needs giant commodes just to flush it
*In order to promote fairness, the reader can insert any selfish politician, CEO, or other name in the brackets. Sadly, there's no shortage of good choices.
Father Christmas is old,
He was feeling tired and cold,
His wife said, "It's time to retire."
As they both sipped wine around their cosy fire.
Old age
Threatening near
Wrinkles on forehead
Lines on corners of eye
Netted crosses on cheeks
Plumps of fat
On protruding belly
Double chins
Hanging loose
Shrivelled hands and fingers
Resemble those of a cold blooded animal
Clumsy legs
Staggering
Sinking eyes
Dimming
Exhausted brain
Confusing
A complicated world
A bleak future
For every oldie
And it comes only once
Regarding the importance of punctuation
Let us view a prime illustration
A woman without her man is nothing...Rewritten:
A woman -- Without her, man is nothing. ~ if not smitten!
The kids have all grown and moved out on their own
I can now be a senior with ease
But as I get older, unburden my shoulders
the help I once gave I now need
What has happened to me? I flaunt apathy
I’m becoming my parents I fear
I’ve ditched rock and roll for the daily news show
and prefer jasmine tea to a beer
A concert for me, well, used to be
A summer of fun at Red Rocks
And now my idea of fun for a night
is taking my dog for a walk
Please, I just ask you to keep your position.
In just a few more minutes, we will have intermission.
After Scarlett pulls the carrot from the ground,
“I’ll never be hungry again” will be her voiced sound.
After the pull-away shot, there will be a five minute break.
Please don’t leave me now, for goodness sake.
This is a movie all film critics consider fine.
It won ten Academy Awards back in 1939.
Based on a book written by a lady from Atlanta,
it filled movie houses all across America.
I know four hours to sit is a long time.
However, it will be worth it for this movie so sublime.
One day I will meet you
on a dirt track
and ask about back yard
where moon lives.
Will you give me a kiss of the clock ?
I have forgotten the back years.
Autumn now takes care of my assets
and I keep on erasing the names.
O,harvest moon, don’t go away.
I was playing with the black thoughts
eating the yellow grass,
learning the alphabet of white pain.
It was a crystal midmoon, dark animal,
who has taken away all the tears.
Satish Verma
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