Poetry

Temporarily Closed (#1991)

Closed? What do you mean closed?
This coffee shop is my favorite writing spot!
My writing plans are completely hosed!
I feel my stomach clench into a knot,
Is there some other coffee shop I can go?
The next closest one is overrun with folks!
My heartbeats pick up their wary tempo,
From my brain alternatives I try to coax,
Everywhere I think of is a sizable distance,
They’re to be closed until mid-next year!
My coffee shop no longer in existence?
A new spot I’ll have to commandeer,

Poetry

Politician Priorities (#1990)

Normal people seek happiness and health,
But politicians only seek power and wealth,
Their priorities are not aligned with our own,
Demonstrations of this are repeatedly shown,
There wouldn’t be war if that weren’t true,
Why don’t they work to help me and you?
They say they do but results show otherwise,
They merely enrich themselves and polarize,
They only care about money and primaries,
Corporations are the ultimate beneficiaries,
Governments should be there to manage,
To act as civil servants- not take advantage,

Poetry

Queen’s Funeral (#1989)

America broke with the crown years ago,
But her majesty’s death is still a painful blow,
Elizabeth might not have been our Queen,
But I cried seeing her funeral on my screen,
Seeing her lowered as the bagpipes play,
Watching her piper slowly walk away,
Seeing the symbols of her power removed,
How could one not feel inexplicably moved?

Poetry

Detesting Dishonesty (#1988)

My feelings on this I won’t sugarcoat,
Dishonest people really get my goat!
There’s no reason to omit the truth or lie,
The truth shouldn’t be something to imply,
Is the truth too painful for them to speak?
That’s called being spineless and weak,
One shouldn’t lie to appease the crowd,
Because they’re scared to say it out loud,
Lies too easily multiply and compound,
Be honest to yourself and those around,
It may be said that truth isn’t always kind,
But at least it doesn’t poison the mind,

Poetry

Tribe Search (#1987)

How does one find a tribe?
It feels a near impossible task,
The need is hard to describe,
How does one find a tribe?
One made of ink and scribe,
Its location I want to unmask,
How does one find a tribe?
It feels a near impossible task,

Poetry

Queen Elizabeth II Dies (#1985)

Spoken today: “London Bridge is down”,
Words to mean the death of the crown,
That Queen Elizabeth II has passed away,
Something Britain never wanted to say,
For the last 70 years she sat on the throne,
Such grace and leadership she’s shown,
Her commitment to duty was plain to see,
The model of what a monarchy should be,
The realms and the commonwealth mourn,
Outside of Buckingham laid flowers adorn,
Their sadness can hardly be expressed,
Elizabeth Alexandra Mary can finally rest,

Poetry

Grandfather Grief (#1984)

10 years ago, both of my grandfathers died,
It broke me emotionally and I retreated inside,
They passed away only a few months apart,
Even thinking about it now shreds my heart,
I couldn’t write about it at the time it occurred,
If I tried the tears just made everything blurred,
To escape how I felt I wrote about other things,
It was a necessary tourniquet for my heartstrings,
Even so, I still drowned in memories and grief,
It took months before I felt any sort of relief,
I couldn’t write about their deaths until now,
It wasn’t something my emotions would allow,
Thinking about them now still brings me to tears,
That’s always been the case these last 10 years,
I’m starting to suspect that it’ll always be that way,
I miss them both more than my words can say,

Poetry

New Space Launch System (#1983)

NASA has again set its sights on the moon,
To it, using the SLS, we might return soon,
It’s been 50 years since we were last there,
Now we have better technology and software,
Like the Apollo missions that came before,
We’ll again send astronauts there to explore,
When the shuttles were retired a decade ago,
I thought our space program took a fatal blow,
But perhaps that’s not actually the case,
There’s clearly still an appetite to go to space,
Going back to the moon takes a lot of prep,
The Artemis missions will be that first step,

Poetry

Twitter Death (#1982)

I’ve tried Twitter a few times now,
But that cesspool is just too foul,
Posting anything there makes me sick,
It needs gasoline and a matchstick!
To be fair it’s already a dumpster fire,
A raging dumpster fire of which I tire,
It’s an account I’ve needed to slough,
Today I said enough was enough,
Its negativity was too much to surmount,
So, with finality, I deleted my account,
It will never again see the likes of me!
I choose to always be Twitter free,