They gather in restaurants
Discussing rising prices
Corrupt politics and religion
Developing new devices
At family gatherings
They talk of absent kin
How their weird ways
Have made them homeless again
In the community of hope
Where NPC's are living the dream
Coordinating plans to meet
Remove the splinter and keep the beam
At the heart of humanity
The scrolls are lighting with finish
The TRUTH of LOVE
Is the gold that radiates and will never diminish
While many count their blessings
And complain of fear mongering reels
The faithful are steadfast
In empty spaces feeling how it feels
...to be at peace without a home
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05-29-2026
Out with the old year, in with the new,
Welcome to year twenty twenty-two.
Hoping this will be a much better year,
Filled with more peace and not so much fear.
Twenty-twenty was the year it all began,
Covid appeared and we didn't have a plan.
Hand sanitizer, wearing face masks the new norm,
Keep your distance, no parties - all must conform.
Twenty twenty-one was supposed to be better.
The whole world obeyed precautions to the letter.
But Covid kept coming - nothing seemed to work,
Then came the vaccines and the world went berzerk!
The world was divided on what they should do,
Because the vaccines had been quickly pushed through.
Some trusted the safety of the newly made shots.
Others questioned their safety- get the jab they would not!
Add to this mess rising prices and crime,
And criminals released before it's their time,
Weather patterns are freaky all over the place,
And all the government wants is to talk about race.
But now here we have a new year to embrace,
Blank pages to fill with purpose and grace.
And though last year wasn't the best of times,
It gave me the inspiration to write these rhymes.
1/13/22
Can Be A Crisis
As usual there can be an incredible crisis,
Which had been caused by rising prices;
Have confession;
Another question;
To fry chicken must we add more spices?
Jim Horn
Black diamond, fools gold,
overpriced and undersold.
Falling vices, rising prices,
and all the things that we are told.
Percussive concussion, concussive percussion,
endless discussion.
A round of applause for revealing your flaws,
your sin serves to feed them their spin.
If you had our fears, if we gave you our hopes,
we'd devour ourselves from within.
Such promises you made when asking for our vote
But it’s been a year and your vows are now remote
What happened to removing troops from the Mideast
And finding the right recipe for economic relief
Hungry families still living in shabby tents
Unemployed fathers pounding streets as they vent
New foreclosure signs are erected every day
As in Washington with our dollars leaders play
That gleam in your eye once inspired us to have hope
But middle-class tax breaks were not enough to cope
With rising prices at the pumps and in food stores
The uninsured yet sit on emergency room floors
Though you still seem to feel you have us hoodwinked
Betrayal is sensed by those struggling on the brink
We now look to you with accusatory eyes
Wondering how we consumed your pack of lies
Perhaps your intentions were good but believe us
You are not our Savior; His name was Jesus
Although we remain “one (stressed) nation under God”
In your next campaign you won’t get our nod
We’ll just take our cause to a far higher Power
Because in politicians, our trust has been soured
Dedicated to ALL of the politicians who made promises that have not been fulfilled.
More and more
its like a big-box-store
with what had been worn
(whether tattered or torn)
never given to the poor.
There's only rising prices
more and more.
While the making of beautiful
paintings or hours spent doing
needlecraft is tossed on piles
in frames
as detritus with no names
anymore.
Dust covered glassware
competes with sofa springs
for space on the floor
as other days bring fresh donations
of creations
to discard
more and more.
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