Odds Are

In the shadow of a city a child was born.
Decades festered to bubbling scorn.
His body grew large, his head grew bigger,
the search then on for a prized gold digger.
~
On tabloid pages their faces were strewn,
with scandals, bankruptcies and words of a goon.
Followed by lawyers paid a great sum,
ensuring victims would always stay mum.
~
While spreading his hate he found his niche.
And being a narcissist he saw no glitch.
He bolstered and bragged about a huge brain.
Some saw a genius, others felt pain.
~
Despite all his faults a following was had.
His greatness he shared, the world was sad.
Money poured in from sources unknown.
Bull shit prospered and a candidate was grown.
~
A show was hatched, reality lacking,
the outcome was known, dependent on hacking.
Conspiracies hurled, truth unconsidered,
fears unleashed and thinking dithered.
~
A president forged by the art of the steal.
In a backseat he waved with a spy at the wheel.
An immigrant descended a hypocrite ascended.
The “We” now he or so he amended.
~
A king is made with prince and princess.
While the queen hung back at a different address.
A cabinet assembled to kiss his fat ass.
Powers promised to those who could pass.
~
Those dismissed soon wrote a book.
Others were jailed for being a crook.
Impeachment inevitable, a sigh of relief,
a shakeup at justice led to more grief.
~
Leadership needed toward the end of his term.
But the mask’s inconvenient because of his perm.
Independence day past (let that sink in…),
freedom being fragile when destroyed from within.
~
The summer is here though different than most.
As the deaths in this nation is nothing to boast.
But autumn will come and the chips will fall.
A choice we will make, winner takes all.

~*~
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Tic, Tic, Tic…

When values are charismatic
and thought becomes plutocratic,
participation is devoid.
Then hardship is systematic.
~
When this world seems dramatic
and our head’s full of static,
anger’s then employed.
And hate becomes pragmatic.
~
When life, it seems erratic
and joy becomes sporadic,
worry fills the void.
Then the gloom is traumatic.
~
When time itself is problematic
and the future’s enigmatic,
trust is then destroyed.
And solitude becomes symptomatic.
~
But when we are diplomatic
and compassion’s automatic,
violence we avoid.
Then love is democratic.

~*~
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Bursting at the Seems

The Holiday’s behind us,
a new year has begun.
The world it seems in turmoil,
why can’t we live as one.
~
The climate seemingly haywire,
continent’s now ablaze.
Glacier’s melting into the seas,
but to some it’s just a phase.
~
Leaders seem oblivious,
striving only for your vote.
Sycophants follow blindly,
getting screwed while they gloat.
~
War now seems inevitable,
missiles flying everywhere.
Pinheads pushing buttons,
could this be our final year?
~
Do I seem pessimistic,
or are things as they seem?
Maybe it’s time to wake up,
this ain’t no F’n dream.

~*~
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The Fragrance of Fickle Follies

Where jester’s king and knights a daze,
sunsets fade to a mushroom haze.
In castles walled the future’s stalled,
the heat of the moment is to forever scald.
~
When dollars found is sense lost,
we’re all to share the eventual cost.
For horizons lured never reached,
minds obstructed always breached.
~
Yet an open mind like and open gate,
frees the fears, ignorance and hate.
And whilst moats are filled from the waste within,
their funny stench is where their ends begin.

~*~
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Check, Please!

The writing’s on a wall that’s yet to exist.
An empire crumbles for the shallowest of tryst.
With ignorance and spite winning the day,
our sky overhead turns blue to gray.
~
Made up beliefs distort the goal,
wishing for heaven but digging a hole.
A nation’s torn and the world’s to follow.
Easy solutions are always hollow.
~
Arrogance shines when senses dulled.
Kings are spawned when pawns are lulled.
Rooked again by another’s sin,
digits lose but the commas win.
~
A billion reasons just a handful knows,
only time will tell how this story goes.
I hope someday to write a happy end,
when the traitor’s torn, then to mend.

~*~
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Spaceshots

A coal fired space force; I hear is in the works.
A test flight’s needed, let’s send some jerks.
It can be its creator with lil Mikey by his side.
I’ll gladly pack lunch for their long ride.
Cozy in their ark, endlessly they’ll float.
Lost in space, the pair can forever gloat.

~*~
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Morning Triku #155 – Drums Rolling

.
Taxing Tax Free

The nice thing about
being an author is you
wrote your own paycheck.

.
More or Less

If you try sometime
you do find you get what you
tried for but no more.

.
Dueling Wits, I Coulda Had a G8

If a sum’s greater
than its parts, then parts lacking
must be a summit.

.
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Morning Triku # Maybe the Last or 154

Going, Going, Gone

~
Poetic Visions

A poet can see
the past, present and future.
Then write all the wrongs.

~
Forever Green

In time we all green,
some blossom, others jaded.
Most just get moldy.

~
Pocket Full of Poesy

We’re going to hell
in a hand-basket held by
a deplorable!

~*~
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Morning Triku #153 ~ Solstice Surmises

~*~
Go Time

The longest day’s here.
The sun’s warm and the night short.
Cold hearts have no place.

*

A Bushel of Pecks

Chemistry is the
solution to inertness
and explosiveness.

*

Fanatical & Finesse

Zealotry only
require zealots but not zeal
necessarily.

~*~
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We the People

~
The Me’s huddled tightly with family alert.
The We’s frolicked freely enjoying dessert.
The Me’s distrustful, their interests first.
The We’s collaborative quenching their thirst.

The Me’s too aligned ruled by a book.
The We’s had comforts the Me’s came and took.
The Me’s dispersed hiding their joy.
The We’s shared all with each girl and boy.

The Me’s sought power devising the divide.
The We’s found solace in a land far and wide.
The Me’s dictate that all is for “Me”
The logic dictates all me’s become we.

.
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Burned

~*~

A human experiment toggled with a switch,

whether on or off, both have a glitch.

All begin similar, few end the same.

Starting lines differ when power’s the game.

*

Whine and complain for lack of a prize,

lives do vary through different eyes.

Have or have not is how scores are kept.

The future was bought, half our world slept.

*

Science now smolders, art soon to follow,

morals and values are promises hollow.

Winner take all, though little to gain,

when the heat of the sun boils our brain.

~*~

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Final Farcical Fantasy

~

Some lyrical words to piss some off,

some will laugh, cry, scream or scoff.

It’s one man’s opinion and nothing more,

yet when the damage done there is no cure.

.

“We the people” – (unless your broke),

“life, liberty and happiness”, what a joke.

It’s freedom for some, never all,

so forget your worries at the mall.

.

The air is hot, skip the coat,

but buy a boat so you can float.

Then folic in that bobbing shit –

of vulgar words spewed by a bigot.

.

A genetic failure of mankind,

a big dyed head and little mind.

Tiny hands embracing arms,

killing more dropping bombs.

.

So follow the clown to crazy town.

Unless of course a shade of brown.

But pinheads, racist’s and sexist’s welcome,

kiss his ass and maybe get some.

.

Standing tall above us all,

to your knees and heed his call.

Feed more to that bloated girth.

Then the roach shall inherit the earth.

~*~

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