Short Mensch Poems

LOWRY stylised matchstick mensch...

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A mensch: I wonder what happens to Rose or Poem that dies
DESIGNER: fauna and flora in deserted crags exist, first, for My eyes...

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insulting yet a sponsor on a site where you compete
is much akin to little men a-peeing their own feet

a mystic rose by any name is lovely as can be
so be a mensch, clean up your stench, and act reasonably
...

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The Mayor of Los Angeles, what a mensch!
Helping the homeless in LA, buy placing 
art murals right next to their tents.

Are they to cook them for breakfast,lunch 
or dinner, perchance?

Proof that some politicians are morons
and obnoxiously, dense!

5/9/2019
9:30pm PST

...

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Likes to share his boredom
with misery;
He throws the key
to his place away and
moves into the swamp,
addicted to drug


 Ein Mensch, der niemals zufrieden ist,
wuenscht seine Langeweile
mit Elend zu teilen.
Er wirft den Schluessel zu seinem Lebenszweck fort
und lebt im Sumpf,der Gier verfallen....

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When your world is topsy-turvy
Opt out  -- if you must
But don't stop CHARITY
GIVE a few coins, slices of food,
To the beggars, real or fake 
And the universe heals THE HEART
By degrees. College degrees fail
All too often as does "religion,"
Just be human, a mensch, once
A day, at the very least, & "dance"
The blues away (reluctantly, secretly)...

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Centralised survailance, concrete division,
Altered states or pre-determined road.
Eyes are plenty, our voluntary will,
Concrete specimens of men, perfection of the imperfect.

Das Uber-mensch, learned, ingrained wish,
Whether body or mind, the image haunts.
Fallable or diseased? Where is the harmony in shared breath?

Walk in line, worship the 1%, nanny's eye will act as guide....

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Don't expect an hors d'ouervre when you're out of work, mate!
Blame that on politics or blame it on your fate.
However much you mutter,
from now on it's bread and butter.
Just pretend you're on a diet.
You'll be happy if you try it.
Don't think you're in a ditch
but take pity on the rich.
To them it doesn't matter
that poor health awaits the fatter.
Dear reader, be a mensch.
Don't criticize my French....

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I
Jim was the archetypal Mensch
We loved writing, Greenbelt MD, Jesus

II
At the edge of my tears
I could sit, daydream, make monuments with words
The Hindu soul within my Soul
Had adored weaving flowers for Jaggan
Whose mom died while he was the driver
Our ancestors will gladly bequeath garlands
Tropical and exotic strelitzia and protea
But you and I are forever in another lineage
The eternal family through a lamb, Jesus...

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To Daniel F. O’Leary:
I always pass your plaque
On mornings when I take my walk;
I note it coming back.

Your birth in 1938
And death at 64
Are all I know about you
But I wish that I knew more.

Yet someone cared enough
To place a plaque upon a bench,
Which tells me that perhaps you were
A stand-up guy, a mensch.

Though others may not notice
Or think twice about your name,
In my imagination
You have staked a tiny claim....

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