When confessions are needed and due in course,
Mine may leap ahead to the front of the line.
As if my superpowers have given me new wings,
And where I can admit to , not decline.
So then I kneel and bow my head asking,
For some forgiveness of the time in between.
Since it seems like a month of Sundays have passed by,
From the last time that was to intervene.
After passing the buck of guilt to Father time,
The admissions soon point towards solitude.
As if my lack of commitment and community,
Was not my own, but all others attitude.
Yet my thoughts soon reflect causing concession,
Taking ownership for all the misdeeds.
Only then did I notice my burden lifting,
As if my prayers directly answered my needs.
This was the moment where grace fell upon me,
And where forgiveness took over for all sin.
Even though my efforts will try not to repeat them,
My history shows I learn slowly, so I'm likely to begin again.
In Preparing children for the adult world,
There is no better game to teach them than pass the parcel,
No better game to show them that we live in a caring world.
And when they reach adulthood in our caring world,
It will easy for them to exchange a buck for the parcel,
And add one more rule to make it in the adult world,
You do not treat the buck like a parcel.
No, passing the buck,
Is a better way of making it in the adult world,
As is, not the system to buck.
And never getting caught in the adult world,
Holding the buck.
For the advanced player,
Passing over as few bucks as possible,
For a parcel,
Of land that is profitable,
Is the ultimate goal for an advanced player,
Who knows who to leave holding the buck.
UniverSAL
time cirCLES life
litTLE matter
Passing the BUCK
brings good LUCK lest
you MUCK it up
Marry a LOON
you will SOON learn
he MOON your Mom
Hocus-Pocus
Haiku: by Tom
6/13/2022
Is passing the buck
the twin of hocus-pocus
or coincidence.
Cowardly this loathsome fellow
In old west they’d call him yellow
I guess that was his biggest flaw
Jealous greater than Othello
He wanted more, the more he saw
Hauling around his gaping jaw
What’s to come of this man of greed
Lied until his scruples were raw
He stole from innocents in need
It would run green if he did bleed
So a deal with the devil struck
To warnings he refused to heed
After years of passing the buck
It seems this man ran out of luck
His broker dragged him down to hell
One more trade up a sleeve to pluck
Scamming incoming clientele
He found a job he could do well
Now he is Satan’s man in charge
Of telemarket personnel
He was the first pyromaniac cat I had ever met.
Some said he was too focused, too intense.
I thought he was brilliant, and yet….
I was terrified of his logic, it made lots of sense.
He had quite a following, I joined his cult right away.
He had barrels of petrol and gasoline too
We all wanted our own matchbooks, we wanted to play.
I ended up in prison, tried blaming him too.
He somehow escaped all blame, he was a whiz.
At passing the buck, persuading others to do his bidding.
I wish I had never listened and done all of his biz.
I blame him totally. Okay. Who am I kidding?
There are two main problems
In this troubled world today
One is the pandemic
That refuses to go away.
The reason why this virus decided to stay
Is because the powers that be
Are determined to have their way
In handling this situation
They don't seem to have a clue.
Passing the buck to each other
Is all they seem to do
They take no responsibility
For the action, they are taking
Nearly every move they make
Is disaster in the making
Meanwhile this lethal virus
Is multiplying fast
Wondering I think
How much longer it can last
When will the dimwits
Come to their senses
And forget about the power
And start building fences
no more splitting hares
white rabbit's clock is ticking ...
stop passing the buck
03/03/20
For every day there is a night.
For every wrong there is a right.
For every up there is a down.
For every smile there is a frown.
It's always darkest before the dawn.
For every pro there is a con.
Into each life some rain must fall,
But enjoy your life in spite of it all.
There are two sides to everything,
And no one knows what the future brings.
It does no good to expect the worst,
When people do that they create their own curse.
Don't waste your time and grumble and grouch,
And sit in a funk on the living room couch.
Life is already way too short,
To waste it on grumbles and growls and snorts.
You can build your own future and make your own luck,
By looking ahead and not passing the buck.
Have faith in God and the gifts He has given,
Don't worry 'bout dyin' just get busy livin'.
Keep passing the buck and you’ll
Soon be broke; life is that way.
A poor beggar has nowhere
To stash what’s given.
Adam and Eve is where my tree starts
with Noah's son Japheth leaving his mark
spreading his DNA seed all over Europe
his lineage from long ago quickly passing the buck,
Ireland, Wales and Germany my family sprang
with Ireland the dominant one in our veins
coming to America because of the potato famine
a blessing in disguise for a new beginning,
Arriving in Ellis Island they passed the test
settling in Brooklyn where they made their nest
becoming printers, policemen and plumbers they tried their best
no longer poor but middle class like the rest,
Eventually they moved a little further out
tired of city life they wanted a new route
moving to the suburbs in Queens and Valley Stream
wanting nothing more than the American dream,
Handing down traditions like drinking hot tea
saying "gesundheit!" when somebody sneezes
with sayings like "a little hard work never killed anyone!"
and having faith in God and having a little fun.
6-1-17
I will start with the left hand, the weak hand
The thumb, I suck, as a symbol of my laziness
The index, I point, blaming and passing the buck
The middle, I raise, cursing and swearing at opponents
The ring, I hide, because I’m married to mediocrity
The little, I use, trying to lift the tonnes of debt I inherited
What about the right hand, the stronger?
I use all the digits to rake in all that I can
I know you think I loot, pillage and plunder
But I only look out for myself, carry out my plan
lift me up
outta this muck
'fore I throw up
sicka being stuck
passing the buck
actin' like a smuck
run 'or by a truck
flat outta luck
the ugliest duck
not supposed to suck
lift me up