Another Carol for Christmas

I woke up and straightaway

I felt the spirit of Christmas Day,

Although the day was cold and gray

On Christmas Day in the morning.

 

The memories of Christmas past--

Many of which are unsurpassed--

Are memories I hope will last

On Christmas Day in the morning.

 

No matter what all people believe,

The spirit of giving to which we cleave

Is possible for us all to achieve

On Christmas Day in the morning.

 

In order to save the human race,

Here's a goal we can all embrace:

Let's make the world a better place

On Christmas Day in the morning.

 

Spread goodwill and hopes for peace.

May our love and wisdom increase,

And may injustice and anger cease

On Christmas Day in the morning.

 

On Christmas Day we spread our cheer.

Let's spread it every day of the year.

We can do it if we're sincere

On Christmas Day in the morning.

-by Bob B (12-25-21)

No, That's Not for Me

Some people talk about the power of prayer.

Although there's never a guarantee,

That's their business to pray if they choose.

But, frankly, praying's not for me.

 

Some people pray for departed souls

And feel that it makes a difference, you see.

If that consoles them, that is fine.

I just let the departed be.

 

Some people pray for lots of money.

Money's important; I agree.

But I say just go out and earn it.

Therefore, praying's not for me.

 

Some people pray for those who are sick

And suffering in an infirmary.

I just hope they are getting good care,

For I feel health care workers are key.

 

Some people feel that praying helps

Their lives by setting their worries free.

I just hope that all works out

For the best, but praying's not for me.

 

Some people pray to be prettier, stronger,

Wiser, better…but I say, "Gee,

Be content or make things happen.

Let that fill your heart with glee."

 

Some people have all kinds of reasons

To pray that go from A to Z.

I just cross my fingers and hope.

But praying? No, that's not for me.

-by Bob B (12-21-21)

Manchin* the No-Man

(This poem can be sung to the melody of "Frosty the Snowman," by Steve Nelson and Walter Rollins.)

 

Manchin the no-man

Is as proud as he can be

When he kills a bill that would help fulfill

A plan for you and me.

 

Manchin the no-man

Thinks that he is on a roll.

But you wonder whom he's beholden to

And to whom he's sold his soul.

 

There must be something going on

That makes him act this way

And has progressives reeling as

He makes his power play.

 

Manchin the no-man

Thinks that he is being strong

When he acts as though he's a friend, but no,

He just strings us all along.

 

Manchin the no-man

Is a man who's out of touch

With what people feel has great appeal.

He says, No, it costs too much.

 

A bill that helps all families

Should be a worthy cause,

Along with one for voters' rights,

But Manchin shouts out "Pause!"

 

Manchin the no-man

Sadly glories in his ruse.

As he jerks us all around and shares

His nonsense on Fox News.

 

Manchin the no-man

Is a person we can't trust.

He'll sit back and gloat as he casts his vote

For a bill to bite the dust.

 

Bumpity-bump-bump, bumpity-bump-bump…

Watch as he says NO!

Bumpity-bump-bump, bumpity-bump-bump…

Manchin has to go.

--by Bob B (12-20-21)

*Joe Manchin, U.S. senator from West Virginia

 

-by Bob B (12-19-21)

Move Over, Delta!

Move over, Delta virus;

There's a brand new bug in town.

It goes by the name of Omicron

And hopes that it won't let us down.

 

It loves to travel and it moves fast.

From across the seas it traveled here

To liven up our holidays

And wish us all a fun New Year.

 

It, like you, likes gatherings,

And it, like you, feels neglected

When it introduces itself

To people who are well protected.

 

No offense, but we would have

Done quite well without you both--

You with your surreptitious

Ways and your rapid growth.

 

So here we are--once again--

Listening to an ongoing medley

Of songs played by an uninvited

Guest whose visits could be deadly.

By Bob B (12-19-21)

Poem 1200

This poem's the twelve hundredth poem

That I have "published" on my blog.

For me, my poetry collection

Is almost like a travelogue--

 

A mental travelogue depicting

My thoughts traveling to and fro.

I'm never certain where they'll take me

Next. I just go with the flow.

 

Today might be a little visit

To a place called "Hypocrisy-land."

There you'll find politicians

Who have gotten out of hand.

 

Tomorrow might take me to a place

Where I spend a lot of time--

A place where animals can talk

And anecdotes are put to rhyme.

 

To outer space my mind might travel;

Or out to explore nature's wonders.

Perhaps I'll take a nostalgic trip

Or write about people's triumphs or blunders.

 

Places, events, and history,

Unknown figures, people of fame,

Likable folks, and miscreants, too:

Any topic becomes fair game.

 

Eschewing ambiguity

Or language rich in metaphor,

I find that a simple, conversational,

Straightforward style suits me more.

 

To many poets, poems that rhyme

Are--according to them--passé.

Although it has its limitations,

Rhyming for me is here to stay.

 

I know that poetry is not

Everybody's cup of tea,

But somehow I can hear it speak

In everything I do or see.

-by Bob B (12-17-21)

Another COVID Christmas

The days feel wintry; nights are cold.

We're trying to spread some holiday cheer.

But once again it's a COVID Christmas--

A little bit like the one last year.

 

We've made some progress in fighting the virus.

I got my vaccine and should feel protected.

Too bad there is so much resistance

To something that stops us from being infected.

 

Many people sing songs about joy,

Peace on earth, and goodwill toward all,

While at the same time they've disregarded

The rising COVID numbers this fall.

 

To help us stay safe and also enjoy

More holiday seasons, we cannot let

Ourselves be guided by lies that spread

On both the TV and the internet.

 

To put an end to this dreadful pandemic,

Cooperation must be greater.

What is now an inconvenience

Will be a giant help to us later.

 

'Tis the season for celebrating.

Whatever that means, we will see

That if we take precautions, we'll make

Next year's holidays COVID free.

-by Bob B (12-15-21)

God, Guns, and Gerrymandering

Gods, guns, and gerrymandering.

That's the Republican Party today--

At least a large, vociferous group

That keeps progressive ideas at bay.

 

White evangelicals,

Tightly knit and fortified

By the perception that God hates the Dems,

Think that they have God on their side.

 

Claiming to know the mind of God,

They use their dogma to legislate

And ignore the fundamental idea

Of the separation of church and state.

 

Ah, their weapons. They love their firearms,

Of which they have collected tons.

Instead of beating their swords into plowshares,

They've beaten their plowshares into guns.

 

And gerrymandering has, of course,

Become their crafty survival tool.

They plan to manipulate future elections

By strengthening minority rule.

 

Through God, guns, and gerrymandering,

They hope to keep their momentum going

By building their power and also keeping

Their piles of ammunition growing.

-by Bob B (12-13-21)

Interconnectedness

Oftentimes I wonder how life

Would be if a single event from the past

Had been different or hadn't occurred.

My whole life would have been recast.

 

All that's happened--right or wrong,

Wanted or not, good or bad,

Planned and expected or coincidental,

High or low, happy or sad--

 

Would be different. But would life be

Better or worse? If either, how so?

I can speculate all I want,

But that is something I'll never know.

 

Whether I take the road less traveled

Or whether I follow the beaten path,

Decisions I make are sometimes fruitful;

When not, I deal with the aftermath.

 

If certain causes and conditions,

Whether they were big or small,

Had been even slightly different,

I might not be here at all.

 

All it takes is a butterfly

In the Amazons to flap its wings,

And that--some people say--will have

An effect on countless other things.

 

Go to the beach and walk away

With just one grain of sand. No more.

Although it's imperceptible,

The shore now is a different shore.

 

Everything is interconnected

In ways too subtle to understand--

From giant, spinning galaxies

To the tiniest grain of sand.

-by Bob B (12-12-21)