OBAMA

Obama wants a health care plan

To serve both poor and rich.

On this time-worn issue,

He’s met a major hitch.

Some on the right say he’s red.

He’s Lenin back from Hell.

Others say he’s Hitler.

‘Liberty is doomed!’ they yell.

'That fiend intends to socialize

The business of the land,

To destroy free enterprise,

The government expand!

‘Health care costs a trillion bucks.

Where will we get the bread?

Higher taxes on us toffs,

Making old folks dead!

‘That’s what he has in mind.

Gas the old and sick.

They cost too much to keep alive.

Death panels! That’s the trick!’

Obama, here’s some sound advice:

Gas the loony fringe.

The time has come to not be nice.

On that your fate may hinge.

WHEEL OF FORTUNE

Spend a half an hour

Every weekday night

Viewing Wheel of Fortune

And the gorgeous Vanna White.

She’s the image of a goddess

Clad in stunning gown.

She struts before the subject board

And flips the letters ‘round.

Pat Sajak runs the game.

He talks while spins the wheel.

But Vanna earns the fame;

Any show her curves would steal.

The contestants have been told,

If they get the answer right,

To pretend they have a fit,

To scream and act a fright.

For this weird performance,

They win a wad of dough,

And a trip to Newfoundland,

Or Bangkok or Borneo.

We can blame Merv Griffin,

For he made up this stew.

Only lovely Vanna White

Makes it worth a view.

THE BOXER

In his lonely corner sitting on a stool,

Waiting for the bell to ring to start another duel.

His nose is bent and flattened, scars around his eyes,

Reminders of past contests for some elusive prize:

A decisive victory, a purse replete with gold,

A fight crowd’s wild ovation, a title belt to hold.

Now he fights for modest means; he loses more than wins.

His speech is slurred as though he’s drunk a few too many gins.

The bell declares it’s time for war. He springs to meet his foe.

In the early testing rounds, they trade cautious blow for blow.

As the battle wages on, he soon begins to tire.

His punches lose their jolting sting, less urgent his desire.

He bobs and weaves to no avail, his footwork once so swift

No longer keeps him safe from harm, his focus starts to drift.

A mighty right haymaker catches him off guard.

He clutches weakly for the ropes, then hits the canvas hard.

The referee counts him out and lifts the victor’s glove.

The loser dreams of better days: of triumph, youth and love.

When he regains his senses he’s but closer to the end:

No money, no cheering crowd, no title to defend.

Why choose a sport whose aim it is to one’s opponent maim?

If your battered brain is dead, what good are wealth and fame?

WINTER ESCAPE

Summers’ drawing to a close.

Too bad we can’t like bears repose

In a cave asleep ‘til spring

And miss the winter’s icy sting.

Avoid the city’s slippery streets,

Dark days, fogs, blizzards, sleets,

Frozen pipes, heating bills,

Colds and flu, fever, chills.

‘Go south!’ you say, ‘and spend the days

Basking in warm solar rays.

Phoenix is the place to be in,

Or somewhere in the Caribbean.’

Well, maybe if the great recession

On your worth made no impression,

You can afford such luxury.

That sadly won’t apply to me.

I know that I’ll not widely roam

From the place that I call home.

BEHIND THE VEIL

The possibilities infinite;

The probabilities few.

Of what lies behind the veil

We do not have a clue.

Our puny minds and senses

Only reach the edge of space.

Of other dimensions,

We cannot discern a trace.

We see things through a pinhole,

A mere glimpse of reality,

Compared to all there is to see,

A teardrop in the sea.

Those foolish priests who tell us

Our fate beyond the grave,

Who quoting Holy Scripture

Presume our souls to save.

If we believe their ravings,

We're destined for paradise;

If we defiant scorn them,

We'll be forever Satan's prize.

We cannot know where we'll go

When we get the call.

We may fry on the Devil's spit,

Or in Heaven have a ball!

A likely outcome I suspect

Is eternal oblivion.

But could be we'll be surprised.

We yet may live again!

CLIMATE CHANGE

Some experts say the world is doomed,

The climate is a-changing.

The icecaps melt, the oceans rise,

As temps go higher ranging.

More hurricanes with gusto blow,

And flash floods drown the streets,

Lightening strikes are on the rise,

When warm-front cold-front meets.

Twisters whirl most every day,

And demolish trailer parks.

Typhoons toss the ships at sea,

While grinning lurk the sharks.

To make things worse, weather woe

Is just part of the equation.

Volcanoes, earthquakes and disease

Add more devastation.

When I hear such gloomy talk,

I can’t help but remember,

There’s nothing quite so often wrong

As predictions of the weather.

Disaster isn’t something new.

If it doesn’t rain it pours.

A forecast dire’s not nature’s fault.

The blame is all Al Gore’s!

MY OLD CAR

My old sedan has had its day.

Now it costs a lot of hay

To keep it safely on the road.

Those engine knocks and wheezes bode

Major breakdown’s on the way.

They must be fixed without delay!

Rust-spots mar the fading paint,

Scratches, dents: a babe she ain’t.

Who would take this piece of trash

In exchange for ready cash?

My hopes for trade-in just as faint.

But in time old cars are ‘quaint’.

Their worth increases as they age.

Perhaps the course of action sage

Is keep the car for decades more,

Until its price begins to soar,

Then accept an offer choice,

And buy myself a Rolls-Royce!

WRITER'S CRAMP!

I have a lot of bank accounts.

I open new ones every day.

There's just a dollar in each one.

Spread your wealth, they say.

Yesterday I bought a car

From a dealer in old wrecks.

It cost me just five-hundred bucks,

But I signed five-hundred cheques.

DEAF

What was that? What did you say?

Repeat that please. Pardon? Eh?

My hearing’s failed a bit of late.

Speak up! With care enunciate!

I forgot my hearing aid.

I fear I may have it mislaid.

No, by gosh, it’s in my ear!

Still, I find it hard to hear.

Being deaf one misses much:

Music, sirens, talk and such.

The other day I crossed the street

And didn’t hear the car-horns beep.

But all things have a sunny side.

Hearing loss one can abide

When babies cry and engines roar,

When the spouse assigns a chore.

My friend, I know it’s all too true,

Of what you say a word or two

Goes misheard or missed entire,

But the outcome’s seldom dire.

I can’t my hearing loss abhor

When you become a crashing bore.

A lot of what you have to say

Ain’t worth hearing anyway!