Today's timericks.

 

I'm having baked beans for my breakfast/the kind that are processed and tinned/the fiber is welcome, I grant you/but mostly it's gone with the wind.

On Veteran's Day we celebrate/our soldiers and their honored fate/We'd like to bring them home in peace/and hope that conflicts soon will cease/These past four years we've had excess/of dead and those who convalesce.  

So now I read an online clip/that claims that it is getting hip/to dress up once again at home/for work or just around to roam/high heels and dress shirts are the style/even on a desert isle/but I will never change my mode/content to be a shabby toad. 

In the land of peach-n-cream/voters may just want to scream/Georgia's counting votes by hand/until cities turn to sand/but such stalling won't prevent/Biden as next President.

To me he doth not stink

 

In the Book of Mormon there was once a faithful queen,

who wondered if the king were dead when his demise was seen.

She listened to a prophet's voice, and lo -- her king revived;

we, too, raise the dead when our good hope is full arrived!

Today's timericks

 

Republicans cry 'voter fraud'/and claim the process way too flawed/they want a recount that will drain/heart and hope and wealth and brain/but the only thing in doubt/is how to shoo that White House lout.

A fireplace with logs aflame/that crackles merrily/warms my old bones at day's end/but makes a thug of me/All that carbon up the flue/infallibly produces/greenhouse gas that's killing off/the birdies and the mooses!

Gimme a home in the suburbs/where COVID and crime are aloof/with plenty of room to set up my Zoom/and six bathrooms under my roof/Neighbors, though distant, are friendly/and they make good money, like me/we swim in our pools and have the best schools/and think of the slums with great pity/so what if my rent is outrageous/I sit in my hot tub and drink/sparkling wine and then lightly dine/on squid sauteed in its own ink/Perhaps I am selfish; however/when plague sits upon this great land/all charitable thought is easily bought/by donating pork & beans canned.

Today's timericks.

 

In the morning I take pills/for a slew of noxious ills/Then at noon I do the same/so my carcass can maintain/Just before I go to bed/more pellets go into my head/If any more I have to take/I'll sound just like a rattlesnake!

Old McDonald on his farm/looks at Biden with alarm/Sure, he hopes that tariffs shrink/but he also has to think/that environmental laws/won't come from some Santa Claus.

my student debt has lasted long/now Social Security/I'm collecting and am still/from that debt not free/in fact, if I default on it/the feds dig in with glee/and take away a goodly part/of my futurity.

Old Joe Biden took an axe/and gave to Facebook forty whacks/when he saw how well it played/he carved up Twitter with a blade.

Here in Utah, dried and cut/ev'rything is going shut/cases mounting, clinics strained/this virus will not be contained/time to grin and hunker down/welcome to a new ghost town.  

The standard has fallen, and so with McPlants/McDonalds as carnivore haven recants/Is there no honor, no esprit de corps/are flesh eaters forsaken forevermore?/I'll jump in a vat of tofu; yes I will/rather than give in to plant based false swill!

My words shall hiss forth

 

Like a hiss that penetrates,

God has words for all the states.

Pleasant to the humble ear;

for all others, full of fear.

Heed them now, ye nations swelled --

or later on you'll be compelled.

 

Today's timericks.

 

Burn out is a problem that has never bothered me/That's because I never took my job too seriously/The only thing that wearies me and causes much malaise/is watching New York Giants play on the odd Sundays.

The Paycheck Protection Program/attracted parasites/who fraudulently took some/very hungry bites/Mismanaged and exhausted/the fund is now so barren/there's nothing left to do/but stand around a-swearin'.

The Sunday dinners of my teens/full of rolls and lima beans/with a roast and taters, too/is but a nostalgic view/of a time when plenty sat/on the land like butterfat/cream pies bubbled in the stove/hams were studded with much clove/Gravy boats sailed happily/on a salted, fatty sea/Relish trays were large affairs/We all ate like millionaires/Then the calories barged in/and eating well became a sin/Nowadays a piece of fish/or boiled tofu in a dish/with a dab of cottage cheese/(not enough to feed dead fleas)/is what Sunday's all about/My Sabbath is a day of drought!

I'm dreaming of lemon bars; how about you?

So chewy and tart; they're a heavenly goo!

When I try to make 'em, the crust gets all burnt.

You'd think at my age I'd have finally learnt

to go to the store for this succulent treat,

so I never mess with the eggs, flour, heat --

an old man like me should be pampered, and spared

the making of food that has constantly erred. 

Hermounts

 

(photo courtesy of Rob Reed)

In scripture Hermounts is filled

with ravenous beasts,

waiting for injured human prey.

I am among the injured, Lord;

save me from the ravening claws

of 2020 fear and despair!

A list of Roman Cisterns.

 

I have made a study of ancient Roman cisterns

ever since last night.

They are of great interest to small bond holders.

The story they tell is out of the question.

Studying under Dagmar and Max Factor,

I initially agreed with their thesis that

all material matter is immaterial.

But the discovery of an Arctic Cistern Culture

in Burkina Faso last week

has shaken the periphery of

Western Civilization.

To say nothing of Paul McCartney's 

grandfather.

I'm not immune to the controversy. 

In fact, I've been to the dentist

twice in the past four months.

But as Menander has it --

Poetry is a victimless crime. 

********************************

A reader offers this suggested revision:

I have made a study of small bond holders

ever since last night.

They are of great interest to Max Factor and Dagmar.

The story they tell is out of the question.

Studying under the controversy,

I initially agreed with the thesis that

all Western Civilization is immaterial.

But the discovery of Menander 

in ancient Roman cisterns last week

has shaken the periphery of

Arctic Cistern Culture.

To say nothing of the dentist's 

grandfather.

I'm not immune to material matter. 

In fact, I've been to Burkina Faso

twice in the past four months.

But as Paul McCartney has it --

Poetry is not a victimless crime. 

A prayer for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

 

O Lord, the villain is deposed

as our election now has closed.

Joe Biden and Ms. Harris rise

as leaders bright before our eyes.

Please, Father, help us crush the imps

of spite and catch a better glimpse

of who we are and soon can be

as we repair our history.

Joe Biden is a bit antique;

please help him to revive, not creak.

Guide him to find that balance sweet

that brings consensus, not defeat.

And may Ms. Harris always be

his helpmate in this victory.

And should that villain cause a stir

and try our triumph to obscure,

may all the sprites in hell be loosed

until he has been well vamoosed!

Amen.

****************************

A reader's poetic response:

Thank you for your poetic rhymes, during these peculiar times.

Old men tear hair from their hoary heads, rather than rest in their downy beds.

This leader from another age, called upon to turn the page.

Will bring back hope and dignity, to a people brought down on their knees.

Let us now do what must be done, to nurture hope, the works begun.

Messages from God

 

Messages from God, I fear

are not oft seen as quick or clear.

He does not text, He does not phone,

and so some think we're all alone.

But through the storm or still of night

He's there to tell us wrong from right.