A New Auld Lang Syne

(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Auld Lang Syne.")

 

It's been a year from hell--one that

We might choose to forget.

Our routine and our very lives

Have been under constant threat.

 

Let’s raise a glass and give a toast,

For we have reached the end

Of 2020. Will good things

Await us 'round the bend?

 

A deadly virus spread and still

It takes a heavy toll.

Let's hope the vaccines wipe it out;

That will be the New Year's goal.

 

Let’s raise a glass and give a toast,

For we have reached the end

Of 2020. Will good things

Await us 'round the bend?

 

The votes were cast; the people spoke.

Now let's shout out three cheers,

For gone will be the one who gave

Us four nightmarish years.

 

Let’s raise a glass and give a toast,

For we have reached the end

Of 2020. Will good things

Await us 'round the bend?

-by Bob B (12-31-20)

The Twelve Days of Christmas 2020

On the first day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

An alternate reality.

 

On the second day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Two NDAs and an alternate reality.

 

On the third day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the fourth day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the fifth day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality

 

On the sixth day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Six childish tantrums, five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the seventh day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Seven Russians hacking, six childish tantrums, five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the eighth day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Eight super spreaders, seven Russians hacking, six childish tantrums, five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the ninth day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Nine COVID cases, eight super spreaders, seven Russians hacking, six childish tantrums, five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the tenth day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Ten crooked pardons, nine COVID cases, eight super spreaders, seven Russians hacking, six childish tantrums, five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the eleventh day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Eleven lawyers losing, ten crooked pardons, nine COVID cases, eight super spreaders, seven Russians hacking, six childish tantrums, five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

 

On the twelfth day of Christmas the White House gave to me:

Twelve new indictments, eleven lawyers losing, ten crooked pardons, nine COVID cases, eight super spreaders, seven Russians hacking, six childish tantrums, five hundred lies, four racist thugs, three Trump steaks, two NDAs, and an alternate reality.

-by Bob B (12-18-20)

Tiptoe Through My Tantrums

(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" by Al Dubin and Joseph Burke.)

 

D.T.:

Tiptoe through my tantrums,

Through my tantrums--my reality.

Come tiptoe through my tantrums with me.

 

Tiptoe through my chaos,

For my chaos is a guarantee

If you stroll through my chaos with me.

 

If things do not go my way,

I'll try to ruin your day.

Don't try to boss me, double-cross me

Or defy me, if YOU do you'll be

Wrapped up in my chaos with me.

 

If you don't like what you hear,

That's tough 'cause I won this year!

Do what I tell you

If you don't you'll be up a tree.

So tiptoe through my tantrums with me.

-by Bob B (12-17-20)

Advice from Mrs. Claus

The time had arrived; the sleigh was packed

With toys, toys, toys galore.

The first of many trips for Santa.

(He knew he'd have to go back for more.)

 

"Time to go," said Santa to all

The reindeer that were hitched to the sleigh.

"We have a lot of work to do,

So we had best be on our way."

 

Santa met with resistance, however;

Red-nosed Rudolph refused to budge.

Santa thought to himself, "Humph!

I guess they'll need a little nudge."

 

Suddenly, Mrs. Claus appeared

With Santa's COVID mask in hand.

Santa mumbled quietly,

"Here comes my reprimand."

 

"You forgot your mask, my dear,"

Said Mrs. Claus. "Wear it now.

I know you think it is inconvenient,

But carelessness I won't allow."

 

"Dear," said Santa, "it's just one night.

The mask muffles my 'Ho, ho, ho.'"

"I don't care if it's ONE minute;

Put it on before you go,"

 

Said Mrs. Claus, growing impatient.

"You wear your mask not just for you;

You also protect others. It's

A wise and considerate thing to do.

 

"And, Rudolph, make sure he leaves it on.

For if he removes it, there will be

Some trouble here when he comes home,

For he will have to reckon with me."

 

So Santa kissed his wife good-bye,

Put on his mask, and off he went,

Knowing that in life there were

Precautions one shouldn't circumvent.

-by Bob B (12-16-20)

The Jig Is Up

Poor Trump is trying hard

To cover up his deep dejection.

He's attempting to overturn

The results of the presidential election.

 

Strange, bizarre conspiracy theories

Perpetuated by the Trumps

Are being spread like wildfire

And talk of massive ballot dumps.

 

Trump sounds like a mad King George

Or a crazed King Lear, losing his mind.

Any semblance of rational thought

In him is getting harder to find.

 

Frivolous lawsuits of voter fraud

From Giuliani's bag of tricks

Show that they're throwing whatever they can

At the wall in hopes that something sticks.

 

Sadly, they are undermining

Democracy with such crazy schemes.

They look even more pathetic

By going to such outrageous extremes.

 

Americans have voted and now

Await with hope a bright new dawn.

The jig is up. The game is over.

Mr. Trump, it's time to move on.

-by Bob B (12-1-20)

A QUIET THANKSGIVING

It's going to be a quiet Thanksgiving.

But that's all right--that's okay.

Caution now means better chances

Of seeing a future Thanksgiving Day.

 

Yes, it's sad that COVID-19

Happens to be our current reality.

But hopefully within a year,

We will see a return to normality.

 

Now with COVID numbers rising

And hospitals filling, it's getting scary.

To get the pandemic under control,

A bit of prudence is necessary.

 

There can still be turkey roasting,

Gravy simmering, potatoes boiling,

And homemade pumpkin pie beckoning…

And I'll be in the kitchen toiling.

 

The situation's not ideal,

But we'll get through this; we'll make do,

FaceTiming our family

And having Thanksgiving dinner for two.

-by Bob B (11-22-20)

What It's Really About

THIS poem is not about Trump.

It's not about his rise and fall.

It’s not about his constant lying.

It’s not about his fantasy wall.

 

It’s not about understanding

The reasons people still support him.

It’s not about the unscrupulous

Members of Congress who still court him.

 

It’s not about his insidious

Attempts to challenge a fair election.

It’s not about the insecure

Manner in which he handles rejection.

 

It’s not about his passion for

Conspiracy theories and made-up "facts."

It’s not about the far-right extremists

And crazy fringe groups he attracts.

 

It’s not about how he took

A great nation and in four years

Tore it apart and left it in shambles

And then whined, expecting cheers.

 

It’s not about his overwhelming

Hypocrisy and how he became—

Because of his moral bankruptcy—

Someone who sullied his very own name.

 

It’s not about his nepotism,

Corruption, cover-ups, or affairs,

Or how he cares LESS about us

And MORE about his stock market shares.

 

It’s not about how he mishandled

A deadly pandemic—par for the course—

By listening to quacks and ignoring the experts,

And as people died, he showed no remorse.

 

What the poem's about is when

Conspiracy theories lose their appeal,

Then and only at that time

Will the nation be able to heal.

-by Bob B (11-18-20)

A Cornered Rat

Back a rat into a corner

And you will find without a doubt

That it becomes surprisingly vicious

As it angrily lashes out.

 

So if that is your plan of attack,

Heed the warning: be prepared!

Be sure you have the tools you need;

And, above all, don’t be scared.

 

The best thing to do would be

To stop the problems before they begin.

Be certain that your house is secure

So that no rats can find their way in.

 

Check the foundation; walk around

And fix whatever the structure lacks.

Don't let the vermin sneak inside

By making darn sure there aren't any cracks.

 

You can put your house in order.

Consider how much you will have gained.

But don't forget to be vigilant:

A dwelling has to be maintained.

A strong, secure house is the best

Protection against dangerous pests.

Then you can live in relative peace.

At least that is what wisdom suggests.

-by Bob B (11-9-20)