Riddled with regret
I cringe at who I used to be
And who I have become.

Rattled with remorse
I cry out for forgiveness
But I don’t know from whom.

Saddled with sadness
I struggle with the load
That grows heavier with time.

The clock hands can not turn back
There’s just one life to live
And the Piper must be paid.
          ljm

I thought that we were lifelong mates.
We built sand castles in the air
We rode the Ferris Wheel up high
And looked down on the park below.
We raced the horses on the carousel
And it was always you who won.
I counted days between playdates.

We had so many things alike-
Ideas, dreams and silly games,
I never thought an end would come-
That you, with no farewell, would go
And leave me in the park alone.
You cannot have a tug-of-war
With no one on the other end.

The music lost some of it’s bounce
The horses didn’t prance so high
I never really understood
If it was something I did wrong
Or some other outside force
Had pulled on you to walk away
And leave me in the park alone.

Then suddenly you reappeared
Brand new hair style, altered name.
I knew at once that it was you
And ran to fetch the ball and jacks.
But after just a dozen games
You whispered  “time to go again
And this time with no coming back."

I stood forlorn and watched you leave.
The other kids were saddened too
But I, who walked-the-dog with you,
Was torn in places I thought safe.
I loved you like a special friend.
Your leaving was a kind of death.
I’m orphaned now in painful ways.

I thought a year or maybe two
Of growing up and moving on
Would cure the hollow space you left-
And to a small extent it did.
But every time I pass the park
And hear the carousel begin
I’m taken back to those good times
And I cannot but cry again.
                                                  ljm

For want of the word
A thought is lost
For want of the thought
An idea is lost
For want of an idea
The plan’s unformed
Without any plan
My world is chaos
         ljm

Clutching a stumbled-on handful
Of my now-obsolete business cards
I fan them like a deck of playing cards
And bitterly weep on them.

They tell me I once had a job
That mattered in the lives of others.
They tell me I was good at it
And never meant to give it up.

But evilness reared up its head
With prejudice and cunning
And finally conjured up a way
To take away my meaning.

I fold the cards into a stack
And put it over to the side-
The tossing out will have to wait
’Til I am stronger than today.
                ljm

Our President jets off for a luxury holiday in Florida
While America stands in the food lines.
Those you’ve pardoned will eat well tonight
But the rest will eat donated sausage.

You need to cover all the mirrors
In the halls of Mara Lago
The evil they’ll reflect of you
Will burn away the silver.

Enjoy your golf and ***** and friends
Lots of goodies wrapped for Baron
More diamonds for Melania
Who likely figures one more year

Til she can be rich and truly free.
We don’t have to wait a year -
Only thirty-one more days.
We’ll still be poor, but we’ll be free.
                   ljm

God sent a sky that promised in crimson
Aflame with the rising of the Sun
Sailing a sea of apricot and indigo
That a boy child will be born this night.

Not in the storied Bethlehem stable
Not in a far land we'll likely never see
Not in a book passed down through the ages
But deep in the heart of all we believe.

Were it not for the glorious sunrise
The clouds flung across the sky
Would bode an oncoming storm
In the cold of the Winter weather.

But the light of the angels was glowing
And the darkness turned pinkey and orange
As it faded into a cloud haloed morning
While the world in all its Winter splendor
Waited to hear the angels sing.
                                  ljm

If your Daddy was a Pop Star
Two Gold Records on his wall,
A&R men listen when you sing.

If your Mama was a Movie Star
Getting an audition is no sweat,
Just say your name, and you go in.

If your Dad was in I.A.T.S.E.         (Pronounced "eye-AT-see)
You know you can get in too-
Just learn a little of the trade.

If your Mother worked for Disney
There's a job there for you too
Unless you have no skills at all.

The Moguls talk diversity-
But that is only for their casts.
It's nepotism for the rest.

It is no longer who you know -
It seems to be who gave you birth
If you think you'd like to work
In that phony place called Hollywood.
                                       ljm

If I live long enough, my goal
Is to be the Doyen of Hello Poetry.
Not because I'm the best, though
I strive to earn that sobriquet too.
Not because I'm wise - Oh no-
Wise-guy is more like it;
But because I never ran away
Without a word
As so many others  have done.
                                       ljm

33 bounces of the Merriam-Webster ball
33 Words I already knew
33 sentences using those words
Some bounced high on the like and love tally
Some fell as flat as leftover beer
Some rolled into corners and got themselves lost

The game was fun and then called a half-time
Without entertainment, but I hung around
Determined to witness the very last ball.

This is my homage to all 33 of them
Rolled Into M-Webster ball 34.

I dropped it with no little thought for the game
Surprised at not being surprised, I observed
This ball didn’t bounce-not even just once.
The fun is the game and not the reward.
                                          ljm

I had a terrible day today
The computer ate my report
I broke my favorite crystal vase
My toasted cheese sandwich burned
I stubbed my sore toe on a heavy table leg
The letter I was waiting for didn’t come again

Then I found the half a cookie I put down and forgot
And everything in my world was suddenly all right again.
ljm

Are the Supremes gonna sing his song?
The one it took him four long years to write.
The one he and his choir auditioned in half
The states in what’s left of a Country.

Is the Nonet going to sing his melody
Or will they split into several quartets
Or perhaps a trio and two duets
With someone else taking the solo.

Are the Supremes gonna dance to his tune?
The rest of his orchestra turned him away
And the score calls for complicated steps
But he paid for their lessons in dishonest cash.

He provided new choir robes, with no lace collars
Does one size fit all, or are some too tight.
They insisted on black and refused MAGA red
In an effort to counterfeit decorum.

And still the question hangs in the air
Will the Supremes nonet sing his song.
Is the end of the world an impossible thought
Not if the Supremes agree to sing his song.
                          ljm

BIRTH OF JESUS
WHAT HE GAVE US -
GREATER GIFTS
THAN WALMART EVER DREAMED.

ljm

The roses are long gone
Now I search for dandelions

The cake has all been eaten
Now I dine on bread and butter

The festival has ended
Now they’re taking down the tents

The symphony is over
And there was somehow no applause

I fell into an undiscovered hole
And no one even heard me call for help.
               ljm

What an awesome duty you have on Jan 5.

YOUR VOTE WILL DETERMINE THE DIRECTION OF THE ENTIRE USA FOR THE NEXT FOUR YEARS.  Wow!

Your election is not really about the incumbents and challengers.  It is about Mitch McConnell. Your election will decide if this one man, elected by one small state, will retain the power to keep legislation             he happens to dislike from ever coming to an open vote on the Senate floor. It will give him the continued power to ignore bills passed by the House of Representatives and lock them away in his desk, never to be debated, discussed or passed by the Senate.

Voting for your incumbents will keep the makeup of the Senate as it is, and give McConnell his power for another four years, so he can hamper progress for Joe Biden, just as he did for Barak Obama.  His Goal once again will be to stymie the President YOU just elected, and limit him to only one term by keeping him from enacting any of his agenda so he appears to be a failure.

If instead, you vote for the challengers, it will realign the Senate. It will  take away the kingly powers of Mitch McConnell, and give it back to the Senate as a whole. You will  give the President YOU elected a chance to enact some of the legislation that will heal our country, save the environment, grow the economy, work toward justice for all, and put an end to our being outcasts in the eyes of the rest of the world

It doesn’t matter which party you are in - if you want any progress to be made in the next four years - If you want to see the programs and ideals that caused you to vote for President Biden come true - you need to vote for both of the challengers in this election.

The whole world is watching.

I  had  to  delete  this  poem  because  the  algorithm  that controls posts won't  let  it  post  in  the  layout  I  designed  for  it.  I couldn't find  a  hack  to  get  around  it  puting  up  a  looong  string­ of  lines,  one directly  below  the  other.  The  way  it  appeared  was  o­ff-putting  and  I'm  not  surprised  no  one  read  it.   This  is  not  the  first  time  this  has  happened  to  a  shap­ed  write  
of  mine.  Yet  I see other  writes in all sorts of wonderful shapes.   What am  I  doing  wrong?

I sip joy from the tiny crevices
Of a colorless existence.
I search out small pockets
Of contentment in the dolor, and
I patch together ragged moments
Of almost fulfillment
To create an existance
That might resemble happiness.

I wear the smile that says I am OK
And speak the words of fabrication.
I do the things that ape a life worthwhile
And go to the places that back up the lie.
I tear the pages from my calendar
And wonder that there are so many more.
Still able to lift a heavy load,
I guess there’s nothing else for me
To do but carry on, so that is what I must.
ljm

He chopped my head off.
He wanted a son and I gave him a girl
I miscarried twice and one was a boy
It was an unforgivable sin.
So desperate for an heir was he
He evicted the Pope from England
And created his own kind of church
So he could get rid of Catherine,
The mother of his daughter,
And have me, against my own will.
My sister was not enough for him-
A mistress can not be a queen -
And the successor he so keenly longed for
Must be the issue of a queen.

With 2 daughters, Henry needed a son.
Catherine gave him Mary
And I bore him Elizabeth.
He didn’t know - nobody could know
How that rivalry would one day end.
When Henry looked to Jane Seymour,
Something told me I would die.
Hoping for kindness, it was brutality instead,
And Henry fell into a chain of desperation.
With seven murdered wives as links.

He chopped off my head to clear the way
For marriage number three
And buried me in a leaden box
In his ongoing quest for sons.
He thought that was the end of me
But my daughter was made of my same stuff
And through her battles over time
She claimed the throne that once was mine
And the Elizabethan era came to be.
ljm

Crying will not help.
  It only nourishes the weeds
    That block the entrance to your goals.

Crying never helps.
  It only muddies up the path
    That takes you you to a better place.

Crying is a waste of time.
  It just delays the work it takes
    To get around the obstacles in life.
              ljm

I pass a bush on my morning walk
A big round bush with dark green leaves
Trimmed to be symmetrical.

Today it called as I walked by
Demanding that I turn and see
The first red blossom of the Fall.
The bravest and the quickest one-
Point-bloom for the rest to follow.

As richly red as burgundy,
It seemed to shout “I’m here!
And you can take a moment from
Your busyness to savor
This free gift I’ve made for you.”

Humbled, I stood very still,
Accepting beauty for my soul.
          ljm

This is obviously a challenge poem.
I hope to obtain a prize.
It’ll be an obligato tome,
A bit oblong in size

I won’t object if you become
Obdurate in your view
Of my obsequious pandering,
Introducing words brand new.

I must admit that I obsess
On words that start o-b
Considering them obnoxious
And obscure as they can be,

But looking at the obverse side
I do not want to obligate
Your absolute attention
To my somewhat obstinate
Desire for intervention.

They tell me I’m obstreperous
But they are all obese.
Their aim is to obtain my skill
And obligate release.

But I am not oblivious,
I’m observant of their ploys
So I’ll oppose this silly game
And not join with their toys.
           ljm

This is my first breviloquent poem.
Hope you think it’s a little bit eloquent.
                 ljm

I see masses of little fluffy clouds
Spilled like a bag of giant popcorn
Across the azure morning sky,
The rest of the heavens are a cloudless blue,
Tinted pink by the rising sun.
This delight is for me alone,
Gazing East from my front porch.
ljm

Walking is my one escape
From the walls I find around my life.
Watching the sun break through the dark
Over nearby jagged mountains
Gives my soul the fuel to carry on.

Those walks and sunrise vistas
Are the leitmotif of
Many things I write.
They paint depression
Shades of pink and apricot.

I dredge my store of adjectives
To find new ways to capture
All I see and wonder at
Sometimes it turns into a song
That only I can hear me sing.

“Then sings my soul
My Savior God to thee
How great thou art
How great thou art”
There is religion in the sunrise.
          ljm

I have a quiet lake of answers
For your raging storm of questions.

I have a placid summer meadow
For your hectic pace of living.

I have a waterfall of caring
For the times you feel unloved.

I have a purple sunset
When your world is without beauty.

I am a fresh baked cookie
When your soul is starved for love.
                      ljm

I find your pecuniary longings
To be so overcoming that
you have become porcine in
your search for it. Wealth is not
some truffle that can be rooted
out of the ground or society.
You might do well to ruminate
on the profundity of this statement.
                 ljm

They advertise Jergens Lotion
As a product that
Softens and smooths
But they can’t know
I have an emollient
Much better by far.
Your gentle voice
Softens my roughest edges
And your tender hands
Smooth out the wrinkles
In my soul.
     ljm

Dancing in the midst of children
I writhe and dip and try in vain
To sidestep the unease that haunts me
And somehow spin away my pain.

This is the feast I was excused from
Long before I’d had my fill
Now I only watch the diners
Fresh come from my trough of swill.

I seek for caverns of forgiveness
Turning, gliding, bending  low
Reaching out in all directions
Stepping fast while the music’s slow.

Somewhere in the beat, nepenthe
Hidden in the mournful sound
Some small solace that might heal me
Help me back to solid ground.

Floating in the hazy twilight
Reeling from tobacco’s sting
I hide behind a veil of midnight
And listen to the words they sing.

Unknown to all by my design
I fight chameleon’s blending urges
And struggle to remain aloof
While searching for my futile purges.

Stretching muscles that complain
I swivel joints that protest loudly
Pushed by demons I can’t name
I hope that I can go down proudly.
    
As the thudding beat surrounds me
Pummeling my burdened brain
I wish that it could pound to flatness
Both my body and my pain.

Is there in this darkling cosmos
Any shelter for my broken soul
Or am I chasing moths on quicksand
Doomed to hold an empty bowl.
                                ljm

The marching band had practiced
The majorettes had tasseled boots
And the Tuba was very shiny.

The Grand Marshall was famous
And the car he rode was new.
With bunting all along the sides.

The soldiers in the honor guard
Rode horses striking as their flags
And their brass buttons glittered.

My float was finished just in time.
The theme was deftly chosen
And the final rose at last in place.

The streets were lined with people
Holding cameras and cell phones,
Their children sitting on the curb.

Motorcycle cops were set
To lead the whole thing off -
Their bikes let out a roar

That drowned the sound of pitter pat
As drops began to tumble
From an almost cloudless sky.

It became a shower, which
Became a heavy rain
And ended in a deluge

My little float was battered;
The flowers were all crushed -
All my hard work was gone

The only thing that I could do
Was call out for a rain delay
And take my float back home.

I have only wilted flowers
To remember that day by,
Pressed between the pages,
Of a scrap book on the shelf.
ljm

Her translucent gown
was spectacular
but her motive
in wearing it
was also translucent
to the nearby women
who watched the men
falling all over themselves
to get next to her.
The women saw right through
translucence.
ljm

A daisy can never be an orchid
But an opera can be operose.
  LJM

She was everybody’s sweetheart;
Respected, if not loved by one and all
But they couldn’t even put her in the ground
Before they started choosing her replacement.
LJM

Ruth, you didn’t do us right
You knew that you had cancer
You couldn’t know how long you had
You must have thought Trump wouldn’t win.

And so you took the gamble.
You should have exited the court
Before Obama’s term wound down,
If you were thinking of the nation.

Your ego kept you on the bench
Until it was too late to go.
We all held our worried breath
As we watched your health decline.

Once you saw the damage
That was daily being done
To your beloved country
You could do nothing but hold on.

We know you tried to last him out
To keep some balance on the Court
But even you, with your fierce strength,
Were not a match for what was in the cards.

Ruth, you didn’t do us right.
In the final reckoning
You should have known to step aside
And save us from destruction.
ljm

It’s very quiet now
My sobbing has subsided to small gasps.
My face is wet and needs a drying but
I have no tissue and the air's
Too still and close to do the job.
It’s dark outside and even darker inside
Where the corner begs me to come huddle
And the blue screen mocks my efforts
To concoct a riddle that will save me.
I’ve tried every single thing I know
To find a way to change the past
But it remains immutable,
And I am locked inside
The Amber of regret
9/17/20

Cronyism rules the day
It guides the games
That you all play.
You think you’re having
Lots of fun,
But while you play
No work gets done.

The best jobs all
Go to your friends -
It forms a chain
That never ends.
But since you are
The weakest link,
The ship of state
Is bound to sink
ljm

I’ve been nominated for
Sisyphean Of The Week
I had to work hard to get it
And it will be harder still to win it -
There’s a lot of competition.
It’ll be an uphill battle for sure
But I do believe that faith
Can still move every mountain
And this is just a little stone.
ljm

There has to be a way
Am I too dumb to find it

There ought to be a path
Am I too blind to see it

There should be candles for the darkness
Why did I never light them

There must be a passage through all this
Why is it I do not believe

People say there is a rainbow
How can it not be in my sky

Who is the person holding me back
Why are you waving a mirror.
             ljm

I learned a brand new word today
And know who it applies to.
I thought I knew pejoratives
As well as a Thesaurus

But this one sounds a bit made up.
I stumbled on it glancing through
A  list of vintage words and terms
I came across this morning.

I’ve said it over many times
Enjoying how it sounds
It kind of rolls across the tongue
And could be used for joking

But it’s for more than just a laugh
And here is what it means:
“A shrewd, unprincipled person
Especially a politician.”

I will not be naming names -
Too numerous to list
But choose the one that you like least
And call him Snollygoster.
              ljm

I ran into my British friend the other day and asked
what he and his wife had been doing lately.  
He replied “meander went to the cinema last night.”
ljm

The blue lights will again split the sky
Though not without a battle.
The names will once again be read
But by voices on recordings.

The lingering pain, now aged nineteen,
Has not been killed by any virus.
It lives on in a thousand hearts
With no choice but ro grieve alone.

The flags are hung just half mast high
The marching bands are silent
The media is reticent
To add to the depression.

Memorials are quarantined
No gatherings allowed
But love and memories abide
In every heart this date has touched.
ljm

Doobie
Such beauty I’s beholden
The stuff of all muh dreams
So tightly rolled ‘n golden
Sealed firmly at the seams.

I’s never gonna share it
It’s mine ‘n mine alone
Not even one small tiny ****
You don’t be holdin’, so jus go home.
ljm

I once gave somebody a beautiful gift
A life changing treasure to keep
Given with love and no little risk
I hoped I had saved someone’s life

I honored that feeling for all of these years
My own little heroic glow
Something of value was given to her
And I owned a small part of the prize

I didn’t bird-dog the rest of her life
I set her free to evolve
Hoping that she would make use of her gift
To better the world that we live in

So many years have passed since that day
So many miles have we traveled
Such sudden sorrow to learn of her death
And the waste of the gift that I gave her

I do not know if her life was good
Did she go in the wrong direction
Did fate beat her up - give her no place to hide
Except in the depths of a bottle.

Not even fifty - so much more to live
I wonder what ravage befell her
That knocked her so low that her only hope
Was the path that led to the tavern

She left behind a beautiful dog
That she’d rescued as I once did her
She left me with a different grief
For a girl and a gift not unwrapped
ljm

My great job had me in my heyday
The virus then cancelled my pay day
Now I’m sending out a grim Mayday
I can’t bear another away day.
ljm

How can you be so ridiculous
As to tell me I’m pediculous.
You must admit it’s not real nice
To tell a friend he’s full of lice
                             ljm

He came to me with the allusion
Of a bump like a contusion.
The circumstances caused confusion.
I thought it just a wild delusion
That would pass with resolution
And a bit of diminution.
When I told him my solution
He declared a revolution.
          ljm

With desperation dripping off my chin
I scurry around this way and that
Trying to catch up the herd that
Knowingly is leaving me behind

I trip on stones I couldn’t see
Through all the rainstorm on my face
And stumble even further back behind

With need that pushes hunger off the list
I strive for things not physical
But nebulous and indistinct
That shimmer in the distance
And are always out of reach
         ljm

On the sad day I discovered you
Would no longer requite my love,
My world was torn asunder.
I fell to my knees in vain attempt
To cadge some trace of fondness -
Some kindred feeling, perhaps, of love
But alas, there was no shred of
Kindness offered to my plea -
No hope of any love restored,
Which meant the undertaker’s man
Must undertake arrangement of
A testimonial gathering to mourn
The loss of my true love and life.
       ljm

I know it’s hiding out there somewhere
That long sought after perfect verse
A silver dove that is a poem
And rides the wind on platinum wings
But I am blinded and I don’t know
The where or how to look for him.

I can hear his melody
And even catch a trace of words
But his glossary eludes me
And I can’t unlock the message

The pain’s a little bit like childbirth
I don’t know how to let it out.
I can’t pick up a razor blade
The need is more than only blood

Longing is a visual thing
Comprised of mist and foggy shadows
That render it impossible
To see a way to find that dove
The one whose tracks are etched in time
Across the sands of living
And the roadway to achievement

The struggle yet continues on
The beating in my weary chest
Is other than my  heart.
Another bird is trying to escape
It may not be the silver dove
But no one shuns a Robin

Somehow the vents are closed.
And little wings are growing weak.
It must not suffocate inside
Unsung, unwritten and unread.
                ljm

This year’s Estival
Was supposed to be the best of all
But a Chinese pandemic
Gave us something not to mimic
ljm

She stands before the bathroom mirror
Creating several different faces
Tryng to find the one that doesn’t
Make her look so tired and old.

Some of them make her look ill
A couple more look silly.
The one she finally settles on:
A wan and disappointed smile -

Accepted as least ugly of the bunch
It’s not the face she’d hoped to wear
In this the Autumn of her life.
She expected some small trace
Of former beauty to remain.

She tried to make a little sparkle
To liven up her somber eyes
And find the muscle in her cheek
That lifts her lips into a grin.

A sorry rictus of despair
Was all that effort brought her
So she gave up and threw the switch
And slipped away in darkness
ljm

I wish it would blizzard
Building forts is my forte
I live in Nevada
So no hope for a snow day
                     ljm