Tuesday, March 10,  2020

Taxes need to be done. 

Not for profit

Not for fun 

I dread...

Step one… 

…

Step one…?

Get out of bed.  

********

Profits are back in the green 

Yet my account is down. 

Around three percent

more an ego dent 

Than difficulty paying rent. 

At the high-stakes table 

We know where ends every such fable. 

*****

The virus and the cancer political 

Still rattle us. 

Passing unethical bills. 

Oh the thrills for his base. 

You can make this or that case 

They are fed lies morn till night 

By that blight of government/ industrial complex media making the complex simple

Simply distorted 

Truth aborted 

Go figure. 

Tanking volatility halted trading with a market trigger. 

He’s a sadistic misfit 

Fit for slaughter

Your wife, son and daughter if you’re Asian, Black, Mexican or Latino 

Giving the green-o light to racists stockpiling ample ammo and body armor 

Bodily harm him, harm her 

Alarms 🚨 sounded 

Democracy once blossomed and abounded 

Not for all

But we were headed in a better direction 

With his so-called election 

his enablers have confounded.

Escalating commitment to a bad decision 

Heated, hating, derision 

With ruthless dog whistles 

Pied Piper 

He’s a lier, a fraud, a cheat and a fake 

Take your chances with his ideas at best half- baked. 

He takes from the poor and the neighbor next door, urging if not extorting protection money from you and me 

Chumps and fools playing by the rules

Of which he has set himself free. 

*%{#%^****

Mistakes I made 

Even those today 

You can never get the best price 

I’m not the only one with whiplash 

From what seems like a looming crash. 

Monday, March 9, 2020

****

The misfits’ diner 

I fit right in 

And so I should. 

Happily so 

As I know each of us 

Some in ways which don’t yet show 

Will go to the place 

Given time and space 

To trace our past 

Asking finally at last 

“What do I feel?”

“What is needed?”

This is real 

Advice heeded

(And now heed)

Has helped me reclaim my Self

simply 

In word...

...more importantly 

...In deed. 

****

Although Hernandez is correct 

I need to stay in the room 

The effect 

Is self-punishing: kaboom!

Soon in the moment

In the room 

I found self-respect 

Acknowledged his correctness 

Adding there is a chemical imbalance 

So some indulgence would be appreciated 

(In younger days, our exchange would have been more heated- 

At least my part.

My parting words 

Being surprisingly unflustered)

Until the meds are adjusted. 

Myself, I trusted. 

I trust he understood 

That would be good plan B

If he doesn’t understand that I can’t stop 

Talking, writing, composing

Being as reasonable 

I will not take it lying down dozing.

****

The virus and the cancer political 

Still

rattle. 

Passing unethical bills. 

Oh the thrills for his base. 

You can make this or that case 

They are fed lies morn till night 

By that blight of government/ industrial complex media making the complex simple

Simply distorted 

Truth aborted 

Go figure. 

Tanking volatility halted trading with a market trigger. 

He’s a sadistic misfit 

Fit for slaughter

Your wife, son and daughter if you’re Asian, Black, Mexican or Latino 

Giving the green-o light to racists stockpiling ample ammo and body armor 

Bodily harm him, harm her 

Alarms 🚨 sounded 

Democracy once blossomed and abounded 

Not for all

But we were headed in a better direction 

With his so-called election 

his enablers have confounded.

Escalinata commitment to a bad decision 

Heated, hating, derision 

With ruthless dog whistles 

Pied Piper 

He’s a lier, a fraud, a cheat and a fake 

Take your chances with his ideas at best half- baked. 

He takes from the poor and the neighbor next door, urging if not extorting protection money from you and me 

Chumps and fools playing by the rules

Of which he has set himself free. 

*%{#%^****

Mistakes I made 

Even those today 

You can never get the best price 

I’m not the only one with whiplash 

From what seems like a looming crash. 

Monday, March 9, 2020

****

The misfits’ diner 

I fit right in 

And so I should. 

Happily so 

As I know each of us 

Some in ways which don’t yet show 

Will go to the place 

Given time and space 

To trace our past 

Asking finally at last 

“What do I feel?”

“What is needed?”

This is real 

Advice heeded

(And now heed)

Has helped me reclaim my Self

simply 

In word...

.

I’ve said before: of critique 

There is more to speak. 

Seek myself with compassion.

In this fashion 

Critique is not condemnation. 

In my present state 

I will remember the state of our suffering people and our suffering nation.