To be loved,
Is to be confused.
It’s receiving roses without thorns,
And looks without scorn.
The feeling of melting in someone’s arms,
While being unarmed.
It’s being afraid of the dark,
But knowing the moon shines afar.
The wind that brushes hair from your face,
Making your life suffice.
The moth that’s usually drawn to the flame,
Waits by the porch light to hear you say its name.
The glitter on the floor you can’t get rid of,
The thread in the cloth that you stitch.
The one you get to keep secret,
Safely tucked away in your pocket.
Even if their mention never leaves your tongue,
They still make you think you’re enough.
Because they’re job is to confuse you,
And to never leave you.
Because even after they’re gone,
They still linger on.
In the perfume that they wear,
And in the roses that they share.
The Old Year, in wanting to stay,
Was pushing the New Year away.
The New Year held firm:
"Yer out of your term,
Time waits for no time, as they say."
A Foreign Mouth Feeds Illness
Republican Today October 11th 2025
Dissertates oath as majority vote elected democracy to speak on behalf of itself.
As of mid-October 2025, the U.S. Senate is dominated by legislative inaction due to an ongoing government shutdown and partisan gridlock. The Republican Party holds a 53-47 majority
Hearing free speech in elected office must be across the entire earth or democracy destabilizes and civil unrest creates war within sound unlent.
No munitions need halt?
All minds require halt
Suggestion of internal document
Mid Terms are loses in gains
Capital gains taxes and reductions
Reductions in privatized expansion
If impulse markets
Markets as attempt to bypass work
Work a I'm ready awaiting labor
Power is sweet—
But it rots the tongue that never lets go.
I walked through Russia—
Putin, your winter has come.
Teach the young before they forget your name.
Museveni—
Since 1986 you’ve ruled like time owes you breath.
It doesn’t.
Kagame—
Two decades and more,
Can’t you hear the youth knocking on your gates?
Lukashenko—
You turned elections into mirrors of yourself.
But mirrors break.
Obiang—
Forty-two years in power—
Even kings grow old,
Even gods fall silent.
Leadership is not possession—
It’s a sacred loan.
Return it with honor before death reclaims it by force.
A true ruler births successors,
Not statues in his own shadow.
The people are not your servants,
Power is not your bloodline.
It is fire—
And fire burns the hand that clings too long.
When the curtains close,
Will you be remembered as a leader—
Or a warning?
Found myself doing my damndest to sleep through the day again.
Wake up, pull the wool over my eyes, block out the world, repeat.
Certainly not a positive omen (what with Halloween and November 9th),
so I force my eyes open,
if only to scroll for an hour or two
(anything to keep from slipping).
There’s a man on my screen,
dark bearded with an oaken guitar in his hands.
I listen to his sweet,
wine-dark voice,
and it begins to enter my bones.
Fills the holes in the marrow with the base warmth of love and life
and as the sun breaches my blinds,
everything becomes okay again.
Or maybe it’s just easier to breathe.
Wake up.
Wake up.
In the term of birth, fields begin to mend.
Tough soil softens in tones of brown umber,
Insects wriggle to rejoice winter's end.
Spiders spin webs, rising from their slumber.
Virgin trees rock gently in morning breeze,
yellow snowdrops greet tulips with bluebells.
Fresh flowers entice butterflies with bees,
seducing senses through hypnotic spells.
Sweet chorus of robins, trills through blue sky.
Their songs echo in golden morning hues.
Clouds hover in puffs of ivory dye.
Sun glows, inspiring my poetic muse.
Cherry blossoms look so perfect in pink
but their brief life, ponders the mind to think.
‘Moon-set,’ a term I’ve never heard
probably ‘cos it’s not a real word
Term Limits
Would Drain The Swamp
Miracle Man
8/12/2023
Now draining the swamp
is a worthwhile topic,
Only those who could drain it
appear to be myopic.
I oft hear the catch phrase,
“It’s for the American people”.
But if swamp truth be known
it’s usually for congresspeople.
Their interest lies mostly
in things benefiting their person.
So as a consequence, I think,
I’m seeing things worsen.
Seems decisions are born
from some political whim.
So term limits won’t come
because it affects them.
Most politicians know lobbyist
on a first name basis.
Lobbyist are like unlicensed banks
and a political oasis.
It’s a game of “you scratch my back,
and I’ll scratch yours”
A swamp once filled with snakes
is now home to dinosaurs.
beautiful creature glides past around eight p.m.
she is as delicate as a ballerina,
now I understand the term “swan lake”
cannot keep my eyes off her graceful ballet
Reflecting on the term, 'diverse'
abundant in our universe
Endless species, sizes, shapes and forms
Truly, 'diversity' has no 'norm'
A vision clear, Americans lack
who color 'diversity' ~ only black
This wreath is in your eidetic memory, yet you should live.
Can you receive my lament, which is almost to happen?
There is no garland as I plummet, rattled by the sieve.
Died with you, can't revive, as you lie on plush and satin.
Earth collapses beneath its weight—why was it to be that way?
The words reflect that living beings are welcome today.
To read the stones, the lost will return home shortly to stay.
The shade of gloom fosters a dark and virtuous decease.
Stashed spaceship shrines to scold scintillating stars in peace.
Among the outworn headstones, the moss knows the lease.
There's a hushed quiescence here; no birds to chirp up or hive.
The wind moans, the agony is veiled, and the heart blackens.
Trusting that I would rest here, bereft of any rich ray.
Leaving behind all my acrid-gained assets through a name cease.
Written: February 25, 2023
This poem form is the Fragmented Rhyme invented and Conceived by Constance La France. It has 14 lines with indentation, and a rhyme scheme, as follows: ABABCCCDDDABCD
Republicans have a grand cause:
Exonerate all of Trump's flaws
But voters said, "Nix!"
To Trump's dirty tricks
By rejecting his Doctor Oz!
**My goal with this poem is not to divide and conquer on issues, and its not even to take sides. It is met to be about voting. It has nothing to do with what is on the ballet, my feelings, my political takes or demonizing those who don't agree with where I stand.
Today is the midterms are you voting?
Today is the midterms are you instead boating?
Do the issues of the nation have your head in a knot?
Do you simply hate politics a lot?
Do you think voting is a waste of your time?
Do you think not voting is a crime?
Did you first cast your vote in the 60’s for Kennedy?
Or maybe in the 70’s for Carter?
Maybe like me when you were in high school
Bill Clinton was the man that was cool?
Do you believe that many politicians will get canned?
Or do you think it will go as some people planned?
Today is voting day and it would be nice
If the political sides didn’t act like fire and ice.
Term Limits Opinion
Miracle Man
6/13/2022
My fear is,
New gun laws considered will be more hocus-pocus,
and even if enacted won’t make shootings go away.
They’re intended to appease and shift public focus,
and put off existing problems until some later day.
Even baby formula has now become hard to procure,
southern borders open, and inflation a massive load.
While we search for solutions and wait for a cure.
congress continues, kicking the can down the road.
I think term limits should be passed into law,
but old geezers won’t vote for laws affecting them.
The removal of old wood should never be a flaw,
voters prune young growth and leave the old stem.
Thoughts of an old geezer.
Tom
COMING TO TERM IN THE USA 2022 Laraine Kentridge Lasdon
who are we to talk of women’s rights
or the travesties of cultures of bans
when our Supreme court becomes
a pawn of pandering politics
and we are no better than
them
how many two year olds
must be beaten
left in closets to die
with no Hail Mary’s
to mark their death
twenty year old mother
nineteen year old boyfriend
sit in jail for the rest of their lives
foster children
sleep in offices, under tables
unwanted
and
and
with wanton abandon
the powerful use
every tool they have
to silence sober practitioners
of abortion and education
forcing birth and poverty
on young women pregnant
rape, incest, or ignorant
about their own body
father-father, boyfriend-father
unaware, or not required to care
(as my father-father willfully
controlled me the injustice stings)
wrapped in judicial cloak of cynicism
the Court decamps
intoning platitudes
and buries Roe vs Wade
there is nowhere to turn
the baby is still born
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