If  anyone has the right to inveigh against the weather
It’s me, folks - it’s me.
If anyone plans to stay indoors all day
It’s me, folks - it’s me

If anyone’s thermometer reads 120 degrees
It’s mine, folks - it’s mine
If anyone’s TV says Dangerous Heat Warning
It’s mine, folks - it’s mine

If anyone wonders why they live here
It’s me folks - it’s me
If anyone says the sunrise is worth it
It’s me, folks it’s certainly me.
ljm

The mask I wear
Says I am OK
That everything is perfect

The song I sing
Says I feel fine -
My body isn’t failing

The words I write
Are mostly lies
Of better times tomorrow

The wand I wave
To change the world
Was purchased at a dime store

The flag I raise
To greet the day
Is hanging upside down
ljm

When the rules say you must rhyme
I’m a muggle every time.

I muggle through the alphabet
And haven’t found the right word yet

They’ll throw me off the “Hello” site
Unless I finally get it right

I feel as slow as Sancho Panza
Looking for a perfect stanza.

Nothing I can do but quit quit
And say I took a muggle hit.
ljm

Our ship of state is being piloted by
A captain with no sea legs
and no navigational skill.
Hence the endless yaw
That leaves the passengers
Turning green and huddled
Over the **** deck rails.
ljm

In a life where malaise
Is the word of the hour and
Rules what the day will become,
I wander from this irritation
To that unknown grumble
And wonder why I feel so bad.
My need to keep going
Is fed by the longing
To see what’s ten years down the road.
         ljm

Water’s running down the curb
Someone’s sprinkler head has failed
Shall I take my normal route
Or follow and see where it ends
Silly question - Off I go
I don’t often walk this street
It rises steeply at the top
The stream comes from much further up
But I’m determined to see where...
Oh! What’s that by the puddle there -
A tiny little humming bird
Darting just above the flow
I stop to watch - this is a treat
The tiny thing with atomic wings
Hovers here and there
Than lands at water’s edge
It’s only centimeters deep
But to him it is a river
At last he settles in the stream and drinks
His needle beak darts in and out
He doesn’t know I’m watching him
Entranced
And now he dips his wings and head
And fluffs his feathers in the morning air
Giddy as a toddler in a splash pool
It feels so good
He does the same thing two more times
While I stand stock still, transfixed
At last, refreshed and clean, he  launches
Into the heart of a nearby tree
And disappears from view
I can’t see him any more
So I move on -

The broken sprinkler still calls me
I find it only two doors up
A geyser by the driveway
Burbling up their water bill
The homeowners likely still asleep
In this very early morning hour
I don’t know the residents
So I don’t go knock on their door
I’m sure they’ll see it soon enough
And shut the water off
It’s blazing hot but I feel cool
Walking along the little stream
That’s running down a street
Called Rippling Springs - how appropriate
Each morning walk is a different gift
As I make this new place into my home
But spying on a humming bird
In the comfort of his morning bath
Is a treasure that’s above the rest
                     ljm

There are things I must not think about
For if I do, I will hear the rumble
Of a Tsunami coming and
I’ll be swept away in a churning wash
Of memory and regret.

There are words I must not ever hear
They’ll cut me to the bottom of my core
And scissor open wounds no
Surgeon could stitch up again

There are photos I must never see
Of a happiness I can not share
And if I look, I’ll crumble into ashes.

There are places I can never go
For if I do it all will end.

And everything will have been for nothing.
ljm

Acknowledged as a beauty
In her youth, with a trim
Little figure that
Slowed the traffic
It did not stop,
She sailed through
Forty years
Like a butterfly.

The luster
Started fading
From her wings,
And oh so slowly
She became a moth,
Ever circling in closer
For bit more of the light.
ljm

If Jack the Ripper lived in OZ
He'd have a double name
He'd be   "That Ripper Jack the Ripper"
He was very good at what he did.
                                   ljm

My mid has drifted, I'm sad to say
You cannot say I'm lying
It's bigger still than yesterday
And that is why I'm crying.
                                ljm

Made no longer risible
From a virus that’s invisible

Not allowed to travel
Our spirits now unravel

We can’t get excited
The country’s not united

A very clear selection
At the next election

One’s a crook with orange tan
And one’s an honest, decent man

History will clearly note
How carefully we cast our vote.
               ljm

Will we ever find our way
Through the menace of this forest
And the storm now swirling through it.
Can we avoid the lashing wind
And hidden things that sting us.

Will sunlight ever penetrate
The darkness of these shadows.
Have we dropped sufficient crumbs
To follow back to safety
Or are they all dissolved in puddles

Will we be be soaked and blown away
Lost to to everything we love
Or find we stashed a flashlight
In a pocket we forgot
And we can make our way back home.
       ljm

I heard him say what’s killing us
Is nothing but a myth
And that he has a lawful rightMore
To make my mother sick

He will not cover up his face
Though everybody does
He swears the constitution says
He needn’t.... just because

He wears a seatbelt on a plane
And also in his car
It seems that safety matters there
But only goes so far.

He knows that life is full of rules
And laws he must obey
And whether he approves of them
They guide him every day

But suddenly the healthcare guide
No longer causes him to jump
He’s free to make the whole world sick
Just like his idol, Mr. Trump.
ljm

One stone tumbles
        Another follows
               And
                     The mountain
                              Is diminished
                                       ljm

I’d be derelict in my duty
That I owe to humankind
If I didn’t help the homeless
By every method I can find

That man may be a derelict
A hobo and a ***
As he slumps there on the gutter
Reeking of cheap ***

His address was a derelict
Condemned to be torn down
They’ve turned him out onto the street
And told him to leave town

But he’s still a human being
And his needs aren’t being met
The city has abandoned him
As one more losing bet

I offer him my tool shed
As a quiet place to sleep
But he turns down my offer
Says the price is way too steep.

He’d have to come and go on time
And follow simple rules
He says he’s better on his own
Among the other fools

Who populate the ***** streets
On the poorer side of town
He shambles off to join his pals
Leaving me to stand and frown.
ljm

Common people called him stingy
And with his funds he was.
But he was parsimonious
In areas that they never saw.

                Epitaph
True, he never spent a dime
If he could get it free.
He never wasted any time
That anyone could see.

He didn’t have much love to give
And wanted no love back
He had a certain way to live
Laid out in white and black.

He didn’t give and didn’t take.
He had no use for friends.
He died alone and that’s the way
This kind of story ends
                      ljm

Coming down the street I see
20 folks with masks just three
I ask them why they don’t comply
They offer me a fast black eye

They say they have a legal right
To infect anyone they might
And I should stifle what I say
Or they will send a sneeze my way

They say the bug is just a myth
Nothing they’ll be dealing with
They say they take their cue from Trump
And if he tells them, they will  jump

But til that day they won’t believe
There’s any germ they can receive
And if their Gramma catches it
It was just a bad luck hit

They’re going to a rave tonight
They know that it will be all right
The hundreds there are super cool
And no one there will be a fool.

One of that group, a guy named Weaver
Said feel me - do I have a fever
I think I maybe don’t feel well
I may have caught it - who can tell

They all laughed and walked away
To them another normal day.
I cross the street to give them space
Can’t chance them breathing in my face

I find it so mysterious
That any group could be so dumb
So selfish and oblivious
Of reckonings that soon will come. ljm

Reaching out to nothingness -
There must be something there for me
Letters stacked in piles of gibberish.
Emotion down my cheeks but not my pen.
Where is my muse - the one I promised
To give my life and being to. She’s gone.

My fingers grasp the nothingness
And clutch it to my wounded heart
As if somehow to make it treasure.
The accolade is down the street;
And I have no way to get there.

Crippled pen and crumpled verse
Is what I have to proffer here
Who is it wants what I pour out:
Acid on the desert of my soul
Burnng wth a flame that never dies
        ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
Wipe the salty tracks away
Pick up the barren pen again
And strive to coax a butterfly
Or fawn or bunny from its depths.
Gardenias with their magic scent
Are surely locked inside somewhere.
I need to somehow set them free
And if not that, then find a way
To learn to live with what I have
And never whisper “I want more”.
                       ljm

TP’s back on the market shelves
Easy to find Purell
Lots of bleach for you to drink
And lots of gloves to sell
Clap Hands

Numbers go up instead of down
Nobody’s staying home
They all go out without a mask
When they decide to roam
Clap hands

Everyone’s invincible
“It couldn’t strike me down”
I’m an invisible carrier
Busy all over town
Clap hands, clap hands

I feel a tickle in my throat
And a little raspy cough
It’s getting sort of hard to breathe
I need to take time off
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

NO more clapping of the hands
Now is the time to pray
That you’ll survive this killer big
And live another day
Go wash those hands, don’t clap them.
ljm

I sat down to write the Great American Poem
And ended up with just a bromide.
I looked in the mirror and saw another bromide.
I was so upset I had to take a bromide to calm down.
ljm

As busy as a cat
  At a mouse convention

    As happy as a dog
     Locked in a bone factory

       As hungry as
        The winner on Survivor

          As dizzy as a pinata
           At a kids party

             As sick as
              A pie-eating contest winner

                As beautiful as
                 Your Grandmother’s smile
                               ljm

You wear a flowing satin cape
Lined with brightest red
Your top hat is not really hollow
No matter what you said

You said it’s truly magic
You think we are insane
You do a little slight of hand
And call it legerdemain

But I suspect a shyster
Is hiding in that cloak
So I won’t choose a walnut
I don’t want to end up broke.

No matter how they switch around
The pea is never there
It doesn’t matter what you choose
You miss it by a hair.  

Most magic is a sucker’s game
That we all gladly play
The hand IS faster than the eye
It has to be that way.
ljm

They said I gotta write some things down
But I don’t liketa write and what can I say.
I disappointed my Mama and I’m real sorry for that
I tried to stop once, I truly did.  But it was so much fun.
I enjoyed cowboyin’, and all the guys too
They called us The Wild Gang.
Them months in jail was not any fun.
I promised 'em that I’d be good, but
The banks was there, the trains was there
They called to me and I had to answer 'em
I don’t feel bad for them that died.
They all had it comin’
I finally got tired of bein’ chased,
And me and Sundance tried to lay low,
But there wasn't no place to hide any more.
Both Robbers Roost and Hole in the Wall was known to all.
And them dad-blamed Pinkertons was ev'rywhere.
So we lit out on a boat, and Etta tagged along.
San Vicente was pretty, but the bank was a’callin’
Nothin’ else we could do but hit it.
Hiding didn’t work out so well that time.
All in all I think going to Bolivia was a big mistake
That’s about all I got to say.
-Butch

My name is Clive the Centurian
I deliver my orders stentorian
I may stamp my feet
But it’s silence I greet
So I’m off to the sanitorium
                            ljm

Darkness swirls like smoke
From a stirred up campfire
Memories burn bright and falter
Snapping in the chilly air
With crackles that resemble laughter
The sun, a memory of yesterday
Shines in other distant places
Where hollyhocks grow tall
And lilacs scent the morning air
Midnight is an all day thing
Purchased with a credit card
That never makes a payment
And notices come postage due
Gloom is a song with seven verses
And many voices in the choir
All with past due statements
The Piper is standing at the door
With outstretched hand and waiting
The cupboard usually is bare
And there’s no chicken in the ***
The candle doesn’t make much light
And sunset comes at noon
The darkness swirls like smoke
ljm

I love and honor each comment that is offered after one of my writes is posted.
Lately I haven't seen a fair number of comments until days later, after I  click on the name of my  poem as listed with someone else's comment.  I don't know if it's the HP site or my ancient Mac (Soon to be former Mac) that is causing it, but it annoys and embarrasses me.
I just want to let it be known that I respond to all comments that I read, and if there Is no response from me, you know I somehow didn't see your poem or your comment.
  ljm

TP’s back on the market shelves
Easy to find Purell
Lots of bleach for you to drink
And lots of gloves to sell
Clap Hands

Numbers go up instead of down
Nobody’s staying home
They all go out without a mask
When they decide to roam
Clap hands

Everyone’s invincible
“It couldn’t strike me down”
I’m an invisible carrier
Busy all over town
Clap hands, clap hands

I feel a tickle in my throat
And a little raspy cough
It’s getting sort of hard to breathe
I need to take time off
Clap hands, clap hands, clap hands

NO more clapping of the hands
Now is the time to pray
That you’ll survive this killer big
And live another day
Go wash those hands, don’t clap them.
ljm

Anna Leonowens called
The King of all Siam
“A flock of sheep
And you the only Ram”

I hear the bleating of
The flocks down at the beach
Who wander free among the germs
Outside of prudence reach.

A belwether is needed now
To step into the lead
And guide the foolish ewes and lambs
To the safety that they need.
ljm

You can’t conflate two nothings
Into something of great worth
You cannot have true progeny
Unless you first give birth.

You cannot wear the laurel crown
Unless you win the race
You cannot be a beauty queen
Without a pretty face.

You cannot swell yourself with pride
And call yourself a hero
If all the actions that you laud
Have added up to zero.
      ljm

Another harangue from the White House:
“Only what I say is true
What’s written up in the papers
Was published by those skewing blue”

You can’t believe a word they say-
These guys with intelligent brains
Who insist on only spouting facts
Instead of the truth of my claims”

“So listen to only what I say to you -
Don’t bother to read the fake news
I am the Lord of the Universe
So you must agree with my views”
ljm

Half of a family growing up
Hand-me-down clothing to wear
Second hand cars and violins
Slightly used new sofas
Balcony where the cheap seats are
Bargain basement purchases
Lay-away plan for bigger things
Picking up coins from the sidewalk
Doing stoop labor for school clothes
Glasses that are only half full

Homemade cake at a card table
Three kids instead of a crowd
Only one fat Birthday candle
The kind used when lights go out

This is the menu they chose from
While ordering up my childhood life
Why should I expect more now
ljm

Fictitious love was all you had
You offered it like it was gold
But it turned green in my warm hands
And all my happiness turned sad
It wouldn't do much good to scold
For not becoming wedding bands

Drowning in disappointment
Covered by dark waves of grief
Searching in vain for some happy
Wondering who was the thief

Aching to find validation
Betrayal the meal of the day
Longing to find some approval
Not knowing who stole it away

Clawing my way to each summit
Ignoring the cuts to my soul
Determined to climb every mountain
In hopes of at last being whole
                     ljm

Today I saw a giant tub of whipped cream
Spilled across the morning sky.
You may call them clouds, I call them cream.

Today I saw a tiny hummingbird
Taking very careful inventory
Of the blossoms on a tree.

Today I saw two squadrons
Of black birds on a secret mission
Across the dawning sky.

Today I saw the waxing moon
Refusing to call it a night
By lurking on the horizon.

Today I saw me looking up
To marvel at the gifts I’m given
For merely raising up my eyes.
            ljm

This morning a jet from the Air Force Base
Split the sky in two with a contrail
Set ablaze by the rising sun.
It cut a line across the clear blue sky
And disappeared beyond the far off mountains.
I watched it as those razor edges
Yielded to celestial winds
And began the transformation
Into wispy clouds across the heavens.
It wasn’t long until the jet’s invasion
Of the peaceful dawning of the day
Disappeared, and only I
Was witness to its transgression.
ljm

I search for the daffodils and only find the brambles       
I listen for the music and only hear the traffic
I reach for little prizes and get my fingers slapped
I memorize the words but they won’t let me sing them

I batter at these stone clad walls but I cannot break through them
The ladder that I built fell short when I ran out of lumber
I found the only way around them ended in forever
So with this teaspoon I must dig until I have a tunnel.
ljm

S ometimes situations sneak around behind me
C ausing more frustration than my cup can hold,
R endering my calm demeanor less and less with
E very breath I take, which finally
A llows the rage to grab control and
M eans the only useful thing to do is scream
ljm

If you don’t want the entire U.S.
To suddenly erupt in volcanic flames
You convict those four evil cops
And chain them to a rock pile
In the hostile Nevada desert
Til they have made enough small gravel
To pay for every bit of damage
This country and its people suffered
So they could take a black man’s life.
ljm

There used to be an index function on HP.  You could type in a name and be taken to that person's home page and their poetry.  It went away, and though I complained to Eliot York about the loss, it has not returned. He promided it would.
So I resort to this method, clumsy as it is.
There are others on my "Missing in Action" list.  Stay tuned.

S ometimes situations sneak around behind me
C ausing more frustration than my cup can hold,
R endering my calm demeanor less and less with
E very breath I take, which finally
A llows the rage to grab control and
M eans the only useful thing to do is scream
ljm

I search for the daffodils and only find the brambles       
I listen for the music and only hear the traffic
I reach for little prizes and get my fingers slapped
I memorize the words but they won’t let me sing them

I batter at these stone-clad walls but I cannot break through them
The ladder that I built fell short when I ran out of lumber
I found the only way around them ended in forever
So with this teaspoon I must dig until I have a tunnel.
ljm

I think the proof is in the air
For those who love and those who care.
So many things that we don't share
Hallelujah
ljm

I think I turned too sharply and missed a step.
I didn’t trip, but I did slip and took a fall.
Now I find myself in the Twilight Zone
Without Rod Serling here to guide me.

I look around to read the words
But they are missing letters.
None of the names are known to me
All are new and foreign

Where are some of the names I know
Ones I read and write to
The ones who read the words I post
And join me on my journey.

Was there rotation of the troops
That I didn’t arrive in time for.
Am I in the wrong battalion now
Headed to places I’ve never been.

Where is Angstrom, Kortas and Omni
Where are Steve, Santita, P Paul
I don’t see Johari, Pradip or Bayan
Did they leave town with Traveler and M-E?

Looking for Fawn, and Graff 88
Ben Noah and Carlo and Walter H
Missing the add-ons of Temporal Fugue
Why are their fingerprints missing?

Who are all those honored poets
With names I’ve never heard before
How did they lap the regulars
In a daily race for notice.

Am I asleep - will I wake up
And find that it was just a dream
And now I’m back with names I know
And no more need to feel alone.

So I will I stay here with my pencil
Posting small bits of my soul
With never a thought to unknown names
Or whether mine will be remembered.
ljm

Years of knowing I wasn’t wanted
Have poisoned the tenderest
Portions of my soul.

Butterflies have become moths
And the music is always out of tune.

The sunset is an ugly smear
And sunrise holds no promise.

Flowers do not yield perfume
And all the birds are Ravens.

Words that used to comfort me
Now echo back in hateful tones

I tell myself there is a light
And try hard to believe it.

But it’s illusive and it fades
Each time I think I see it.

Wanting to be wanted
Turns out to be a foolish game.

How can anybody want me
When I don’t even want myself.
ljm

I try to see the beauty in a rose
But it smells just like a **** to me.

My pen is filled with lovely words
That I can’t put on paper.

My heart’s aware that it’s been robbed
Of everything that’s velvet

But it beats on in vain attempt
To recognize a bluebird.
ljm

A microscopic drop of red
In a place no human eye can see
Erased the blackboard of my mind
Of all the words that make me, me.

I’m left here with chalk in hand
Trying hard to bridge the gaps
Hoping to connect the strands
And find myself again, perhaps.

I reach for words and they don’t come -
Simple words used every day.
I substitute less perfect ones
And laugh embarrassement away.

There is a word for what this is:
Lethologica it’s called.
I have it written on my arm
In case it needs to be recalled.

Thesaurus is my new best friend
Where I find the words I need
That are now locked away from me
An unexpected deep brain bleed.

My hand won’t write like it once did
The letters shrink and grow at will
I practice grade school penmanship
But write at third grade level still.

My balance is not what it was
My hands are clumsy paws
Too much saliva wets my chin
And no none knows the cause.

Yet life goes on and I do too
I offer what I can
Perhaps my words will help help someone
To take a braver stand.
ljm

Not the prettiest girl in town,
The smartest or most charming,
But she had what the boys all wanted
And she did not say “no”

Her Birthday was a day past mine
Our mothers were good friends
We celebrated on those days together
I learned we could not double date

Her boyfriend’s friends assumed that I
Would lay me down like she did
But I was saving that for later
“No” was the only word I knew.

The arguments were never fun.
The pill did not exist back then
And boys detested wearing “rubbers”
My fear was equaled by resolve

Our ties gave way with our diplomas
And I set out to find my star
She settled in to create babies
Birthday cards our only contact

The one who finally married her
Was not her baby’s father
She thanked him for his kindness
By giving him three more

They stuck it out through thick and thin
And thin it was most often
She stayed by him and him by her
And so the world moved on for years

One day I heard that she had died
Cancer at an early age
As one last time she laid her down
And slipped into eternal rest

I wonder how our lives would be
Had I said yes while she said no
ljm

1.  Funny how reality is easy to disguise
     In the hours of sun and busyness
     But it lights up like a neon glow
     In the minutes before dawning.

2.  Fairy tales and other fancies
     Float just out of reach and vision.
     As the sound of hammers down the street
     Drown out the song of morning blackbirds.

3.  There are Pansies with their velvet mein
     Growing somewhere out of sight
     But wishing will not bring them near
     Nor will it make the desert bloom.
                     ljm

The glittering lights
Of the City below
Shimmer in the
Sunrise glow
As I perch on
My rocky throne
To admire them.
Neon snails slowly
Inch their way along
The distant highway.
Flocks of starlings
Spray themselves
Across the rosy sky
And I am content.
           LJM

The moon, a slender eyebrow in the morning sky,
Ducking in and out of clouds that look
Like scattered pieces of charcoal,
Is as thin as the cover on my soul,
Which shivers in the icy wind
And ponders the unthinkable.

The moon was skinny yesterday
And several days before, as thin
As all the options now lined up
Like bottles on the fence posts of my heart
Waiting for a well tossed stone
To cause a resolution.

The moon has always been my friend
As I grow fat it waxes thin
And does not always answer if I call
Because I know it rides the sky
Like a golden palomino mare
That often won’t take me along.

The moon is shadowed by the storm
That roils the peaceful morning sky
And mirrors all the thunder in my mind
That follows lightning flashes of resolve
To once again become Selena’s mate
And course the planes of dawn together
                        ljm