The After-Christmas Blues

Holiday cheer and hustle and bustle

From Thanksgiving until Christmas Day.

Running somewhat on autopilot…

Sometimes longing to get away…

Embracing the spirit of the holiday season,

I hoped good tidings would stifle bad news.

But now that Christmas is over, I am

Stuck with the after-Christmas blues.

Days have been for the most part sunny;

Winters are mild in southern Cal.

Holiday baking would have to be fruitful:

Cookies and candy would boost my morale.

The holiday sweets have all disappeared now.

I didn't gain and I didn't lose.

Fugacious pleasures have left, and now I'm

Feeling the after-Christmas blues.

Caught up in the holiday spirit,

For a brief moment I thought there would be

And end to lies, injustice, and hate…

An end to all this insanity.

But no, decorations merely

Hide the truths that we can't excuse,

And once again we hear the sounds

That linger: the after-Christmas blues.

Ah, but all things must pass, no?

That is what I find myself saying.

People will open their eyes and they

Will see what the deeper truths are conveying.

Change will come, so let's be hopeful.

Let us all together refuse

To be downhearted. Then we can say

Goodbye to the after-Christmas blues.

-by Bob B (12-30-18)

Only Two!

Another death on our southern border--

THIS time an eight-year-old child.

You'd have to be an unsympathetic

And cold-hearted person not to be riled.

Little Felipe Gómez Alonzo

Died near the border on Christmas Eve.

The Guatemalan child's death

Leaves another family bereaved.

Representative Peter King

In an interview brushed aside

The pain and seriousness and said

ONLY TWO children have died.

ONLY TWO? And why? Because

The Trump admin is changing the ways

Asylum seekers apply for refuge

With obstacles and major delays.

Closing the ports of entry and making

Families find alternate routes

Through dangerous areas to plead their cases

Has shocked the world and raised many doubts.

Trump and his staff are experts at how to

Manipulate his base with lies--

To turn the public against the very

People they dehumanize.

The Grand Deceiver claims a wall

Will solve our system of immigration.

Though ludicrous, the wall, he says,

Will be our only hope of salvation.

He lashes out through foolish tweets,

Childish tantrums, and angry threats,

Blasting dissenters and passing blame

Without compunction, with no regrets.

Asylum seekers who've brought their children…

Did they ever anticipate

That they'd flee death to find it here

In a sad, ironic twist of fate.

-by Bob B (12-29-18)

Poem 800

THIS poem is number 800

Of poems I've "published" on various sites.

You might golf, play tennis or paint;

Of me they merely say, "He writes."

Eight hundred poems are a lot

Of poems if you are keeping score.

But bear in mind that poets out there

Have written hundreds or thousands more.

Writing can become a passion--

Something that grasps your innermost being,

That vibrantly exposes your heart

When you try to express what you're seeing.

My approach is sometimes light-hearted

And playful if I am in the mood;

And yet I can be quite serious

And muse on something or ponder or brood.

I often write poems that tell a story.

Call them unsophisticated

If you wish, but frankly I say

Sophistication is overrated.

After observing the world around me,

I sit down and roll up my sleeves

To write, often focusing on

Some of my most annoying pet peeves,

Hypocrisy being ONE of them.

Oh, the slimy hypocrites ooze

Flagrant chicanery, fraud, and pretense,

And every day they're in the news.

Some say, "Leave no turn unstoned."

No, wait: I mean "stone unturned."

And no, you can't please everybody;

That's an important lesson I've learned.

If you've read all 800 poems,

I've taken up a lot of your time.

I hope you've found the journey worthwhile--

This journey through my verses in rhyme.

But if poetry's NOT your thing,

Do not worry; I understand.

You'll receive no criticism,

No reproof, no reprimand.

Therefore, if you've read this far,

Celebrate along with me

This little challenge. Raise your glass

And drink a toast to poetry!

-by Bob B (12-27-18)

A Wife's Lament at Christmastime

I tell you it's hard to live with a man

Who's always so preoccupied

With making other people happy,

Especially at Yuletide.

Time and again I've asked why he

Prefers to live in this frigid zone.

And then he works each Christmas Eve

While I have to stay home alone!

I mean, why this bias of Christmas

With winter and snow year after year

When it's nice and steamy on Earth's

Beautiful southern hemisphere?

Don't get me wrong: I don't begrudge

His eleemosynary devotion

To making other people happy.

That's a kind and generous notion.

But his thoughts are always on

"The kids," and so, I feel neglected.

And yet I always put on the front

Of being cheerful, cool and collected.

Another thing I must admit:

It's hard for a wife whose hubby enjoys

An overwhelming fascination

Or infatuation with all his toys!

You might think the man is cute;

However, I am less enthralled.

He suffers from puer aeternus.
At least that's what I think it's called.

I tell him, "Dear, I understand

Your thoughtful desire to do good deeds,

But maybe you are overdoing it.

Don't forget: wives have needs."

I sometimes think the worst might happen

Whenever my spirits start to sink.

I have to muster up inner strength

To stop myself from taking to drink.

I'd love to be able to find a place

Where we could spend some time by ourselves.

It isn't easy to live with a man

Who spends all his time with reindeer and elves.

Oh, well…I guess it's true:

Every marriage has its flaws.

But try to imagine what it's like

To be Mrs. Santa Claus.

-by Bob B (12-25-18)

"Give Me My Wall"

(Can be sung to the tune of "King Herod's Song" from JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR)

Oh, I feel a duty to my donors and my base.

If I don't act, Rush and Ann will say I'm a disgrace.

I pass laws…to titillate my fans.

I hate it when dissenters disagree with all my plans.

So give me my wall, my huge, giant wall.

It's a promise that I made.

Join me in my wall crusade.

Come, hear my plea.

Come on and do it for me.

Be nice and give me my wall.

You don't know how hard it is to work with people who

Don't appreciate all the terrific things you do.

My great wall…will be a tour de force.

And little Stevie Miller will be satisfied, of course.

So give me my wall, my huge, giant wall.

If people starve, well, Uncle Sam,

I don't really give a damn.

It feels so nice

To snuggle with ICE.

Come on and give me my wall.

Some say that my wall is useless; they don't understand

How its usefulness will help us keep out contraband,

Druggies and rapists, and all those other sorts.

I will get my way if I keep stacking all the courts.

So give me my wall, a huge, giant wall,

That stretches along our southern border.

Don’t say it's too tall an order.

I'll go to town and shut the government down

Unless you give me my wall.

Oh…yes…please…

Give my me wall, my huge, giant wall.

Five billion bucks should do it.

You say that's too much? Aw, screw it!

Putin agrees, and so I beg on my knees:

Give me my beautiful wall!

-by Bob B (12-22-18)

I Can't Wait

I can't wait till once again

We have a president who's sane;

Whose meaningless words "No collusion!"

Don't become a daily refrain;

Who cares about people and country

More than profits and dividends;

Who places trust in allies and doesn't

Treat our adversaries as friends;

Whose charitable foundation isn't

Merely a personal slush fund or scam;

Whose kids aren't part of shady deals;

Whose spouse really gives a damn;

Who has integrity and doesn't

Give hateful fringe groups praise;

Whose job applicants don't need

The word "crook" on their résumés;

Who wins elections honestly

And doesn't rely on outside assistance;

For whom the use of lies and deceit

Is NOT the path of least resistance;

Who wants border security but doesn't

Constantly harp on a senseless wall;

Whose behavior is much, much more

Refined and LESS Neanderthal;

Who truly believes in democracy

And fully supports the rule of law;

Who doesn't expose ignorant views

In daily tweets of blah, blah, blah;

Who, when putting words together,

Could prove to be more prolific;

Whose daily repertoire has more

Adjectives than "great" and "terrific";

Whose team is not constantly

Involved in ethics violations;

Who in his first years of office isn't

In seventeen investigations.

Sooner or later, things will change.

But judging from every indicator,

It's suddenly starting to look as though

Relief might come sooner than later.

-by Bob B (12-19-18)

A Ballad for Jakelin

This is the tale of a girl

Only seven years old

Who came here from Guatemala.

Let her story be told.

Jakelin Caal Maquin

Came here with her dad

With hopes of seeking asylum,

Before everything went bad.

People seeking refuge

Are dangerously exposed

To inhumane conditions

When ports of entry are closed.

Through the desert they wandered

With others of the same mind

Seeking a place of safety

And leaving danger behind.

At least that's what they hoped for.

They hadn't had a clue

That cruelty existed

Here in America, too.

When they turned themselves in,

It's said that father and daughter

For several wearisome days

Hadn't had food or water.

The child started having

Seizures, the records show--

A nightmare for the father

Who suffered this tale of woe.

Possible dehydration,--

Doctors later expressed--

Shock and exhaustion led

To cardiac arrest.

A hospital in El Paso

Was where she took her last breath.

A new life was their goal;

What they encountered was death.

The head of the DHS--

Nielsen--places the blame

All on Jakelin's father.

The woman has no shame.

The callous disrespect

Of international law

Regarding asylum seekers

Reveals her major flaw.

Must we blame the victims?

We must ask ourselves why

There aren't better solutions

So more children won't die.

Sorry, Jakelin.

We must apologize

For our officials who thrive

On heartlessness and lies.

-by Bob B (12-15-18)

Children in Yemen

While many people all over the world

Are busily running to and fro

Engaging in cheerful holiday

Festivities, one thing we know:

Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

While Saudi Arabia nonchalantly

Covers up its heinous act

Of butchering a journalist,

We cannot ignore the fact

That children are starving and dying in Yemen.

While Congress fails to intercede

And chooses instead to bicker and quarrel

Over whether America should

Keep supporting a war that's immoral,

Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

While the oppressive Houthi rebels

Backed by Iran dig in their heels

And Saudi Arabia bombs the cities,

Intensifying a clash of ideals,

Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

When ports are blocked and money is scarce,

And fishermen's boats can't leave the shore,

And food and medical equipment

Are cut off in a three-year war,

Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

A 12-year-old girl weighs 28 pounds;

An 8-year-old boy weighs about 30.

Chances are slim that they will survive.

Who dares to say that war isn't dirty?

Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

The people caught in the middle are certain

What the fiendish fighting portends:

A huge, unimaginable

Catastrophe unless the war ends,

For children are starving and dying in Yemen.

-by Bob B (12-14-18)

Light the Candles*

Light the candles on the menorah,

On the menorah, one by one.

Let the shamash be your attendant.

Gather together when day is done.

May the sounds of Hanukkah blessings

Fill your home with a cheerful mood.

Let your heart be brimming with wonder,

Joy and laughter and gratitude.

Celebrate the season with hope--

The yearly festival of lights.

Think about the oil that burned

For eight miraculous days and nights.

Spin the dreidel. How will it fall--

Nisht or gantz or halb or shtel?

Win or lose some Hanukkah gelt…

If you break even, you're doing well.

We reflect on where we have come from;

Struggles have never seemed to cease.

May people everywhere learn from the past.

For the sake of the children let there be peace.

Light the candles on the menorah,

On the menorah, one by one.

May the gentle glow of the candles

Soften the night in the setting sun.

-by Bob B (12-12-18)

*I know: the festival of Hanukkah has passed this year.

But it will return on 22 Dec. 2019.

You Are Going to Be Impeached

(Can be sung to the tune of "Santa Claus Is Comin' to Town")

You'd better take heed; you'd better not bawl

When you read all the writing on the wall:

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

You can deny what you have done,

But you cannot fool everyone.

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

Mueller's digging deeper,

No matter what you do.

No matter what you think or say,

He's got the goods on you.

So! You'd better take heed; you'd better not bawl

When you read all the writing on the wall:

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

Putin can say he wasn't involved,

And you say, "Hey! Now I'm absolved."

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

Republican friends in Congress can try

To undermine the Mueller probe and lie.

You're still going to be IMPEACHED.

The people in this country are jumping up and down.

Finally there'll be oversight: the Dems have come to town.

So! You'd better take heed; you'd better not bawl

When you read all the writing on the wall:

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

You think that you are free and clear.

Keep your eyes open as storm clouds near.

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

You can say "No collusion" each day.

The truth of the matter won't go away.

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

Among your co-conspirators someone's spilled the beans;

Someone's told the truth about you,

And you know what that means.

So! You'd better take heed; don't weep and wail.

Worst case scenario: time in jail.

You are going to be IMPEACHED.

-by Bob B (12-10-18)