Beyond My Kitchen Window

Today, Hallowe’en, in the year of grace 2014, I have reached the curmudgeonly age of 85. I have no regrets, no wistful longings for the good old days. My life is filled with a wonderful wife and equally wonderful children and grandchildren. I worry about my country, and worry what kind of world my grandchildren will inherit. There’s nothing I can do about it, and so I often shut down the computer, give the words and rhymes a rest, and look out my kitchen window.

Beyond my kitchen window lives
A wondrous world outside
With creatures who know not that I exist
The squirrel who sits upon my deck
And wonders where to hide
The acorns so that they will not be missed
The blue jay squabbles with the cat
Who looks at him askance
And longs to sink her teeth and shut him up
The butterfly who flutters like
He’s just learned how to dance
The question mark that is my neighbor’s pup
The ladybug who pays no mind
To what is going on
Intent is she on filling up her day
With endless flights both back and forth
Until the light is gone
When finally she ups and flies away
I sit still by my window
Not a move and not a sound
Invisible I am to those outside
I see the squirrel’s jaws move with
Something that he must have found
And ladybug on pup has hitched a ride
I wonder why it is I find
Their actions seem like play
While I sit here and out the window stare
Wishing I could understand
What cat just said to jay
And wond’ring what I’d be were I out there

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Fusion And The Skunk Works

The famous Skunk Works at Lockheed, the inventors of stealth technology, the SR-71 Blackbird and many other black projects, has announced a breakthrough in fusion technology, and is now looking for financing. The breakthrough seems to be centered around the shape of the tokomak within which the nuclear process of fusion remain captive. We have seen these announcements before, and they have to this point been premature to say the least. Locking up the nuclear process that fuels the stars seems a bit beyond human capacity to manage. I prefer cold fusion as a power source, though cold fusion is beyond the horizon as well. Still, if the Skunk Works says they have something, we have to pay attention, though I have the feeling I won’t be changing the tokomak that powers a mining city on an uninhabited planetoid at the edge of a spiral arm in my sci fi novel Soliloquy any time soon. One thing is certain, though, and that is if anyone ever discoverers an unlimited source of cheap energy the government will tax it to the point of being non-competitive.

If this chimera isn’t an illusion
If ever we get energy from fusion
The government will leap to one conclusion
That something must be done and done real fast
We cannot leave untaxed this new creation
We must prepare the proper regulation
We’ll cancel every bureaucrat’s vacation
And get this thing tight hammered to the mast

 

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The Sofa

There are people who consider Obama the Devil, and I confess that on occasion I was one of them. No more. Not after what happened. I was sitting on my sofa when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, and to my astonishment found a cool, handsome, familiar looking black man sitting next to me. He introduced himself, saying he was the Devil, and if I didn’t stop confusing him with Barack Obama he was going to get mighty pissed. And with a wag of the finger he said,

I much dislike to be compared
To one who seems to be so scared
Of tough decisions he knows must be made
A man whose judgment seems impaired
Disasters that are not repaired
I state the truth and call a spade a spade
But you look just like him, I cried
That secret sneer, so beady eyed
That I confess the Devil’s in my eyes
Respect the office, that I’ve tried
And yes it churns me up inside
To think that he’s the Devil in disguise
He smiled and said you’re not the first
To think that since the bubble burst
And people saw he’s just an empty suit
Believe me he might be the worst
The country ever has been cursed
Despite the fact Gwyn Paltrow thinks he’s cute
Ah well, he said, and rose to go
At least you know I’m real, not show
My mirror says it’s me not him as well
One day we’ll meet up down below
Be face to face and then we’ll know
And if he’s really me then what the hell

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The Coming Republican Majority

Obama has ordered green cards and other documents be prepared to welcome as many as thirty-four million illegal immigrants into the country. What happens when the newly elected Republican majorities in the Senate and House agree that thirty-four million third world immigrants is a good thing? What happens if the Republicans convince themselves that they can turn those people around and guarantee themselves a permanent governing majority? If they’re wrong Republican politicians can shrug and say so we’ll lose some seats, but what will the country lose? Do they even care that the country will lose? I suspect not, so long as the Democrat majority allows them to keep their perks.

Pablo and Juanita and their children soon will make
A solid contribution to the State
As what was once the US is a big third world mistake
The GOP will chortle This is great!
These folks in future generations now they have the vote
Will see the Grand Old Party as their home
And years from now they’ll vote for us if we don’t rock the boat
And then think of the votes that we will comb
Out of the barrios and shanty towns where homeless folk
Demand that cashing checks from Dems is cruel
And yes we know that there are people think this is a joke
But wait until we get these folks in school
In meantime we enjoy our role as patriotic foes
Of policies the Democrats embrace
And if it turns out badly for us well that’s how it goes
We’ll do just fine in endless second place

 

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The History Of Man

The history of man is one of unending, unbending conflict. Us against the Other, us against ourselves. Man has fought for country, for city state, for city, for tribe, for clan, for family and for himself. The evidence of our senses is that man fights because he likes to. Maybe the anthropologists are right and man is a naked ape, born with aggression and built in bellicosity. Whatever, throughout history, men have fought and bled and died, sometimes for gold, sometimes for glory, and very often for honor. But thank the gods we are and were aggressive, for without warfare to stoke the fires of the mind we would probably not have yet emerged from the stone age, never to see the wonders and marvels of a technological society.

The chariots of Kadesh
And the bows of Agincourt
The triremes and the tracks of Panzer IIIs
The ponies of the Golden Horde
The doughty farmer Boer
The history of man is men like these
Cold Harbor where they lay in rows
The blood drenched Somme at flood
Black Cannae and the green of Flodden Field
The bomber contrails ‘gainst the blue
The khaki colored mud
The common theme is men who would not yield
So many times their lives were
Sacrificed by lesser men
Who led them by the divine right of birth
They lit the flame of duty and
Would light it yet again
Though lying ‘neath a sacred piece of Earth


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Making Believe

In an unscheduled interview, President Obama unburdened himself of his doubts and fears, admitting tearfully that all was a sham, that his handlers convinced the populace of a mighty country that he was someone he was not, that it was all make believe. With tears coursing down his powdered cheeks, he sobbed:

Just making believe I am who you see here
Just making believe that all this is true
Just making believe that I’m meant to be here
Just making believe is all can do
For all of my life I’ve been a pretender
I’ve closed shut my eyes to all that is real
While borrowing all, despising my gender
Covering up just how badly I feel
Changing my faith to be sure I’m elected
Making believe to be what I am not
Always a smile, with my real life protected
All for the gold in that sweet rainbow’s pot
The sweet call to prayer, so haunting the beauty
The name I was born with, the father I lost
Yes chosen I was, and I well did my duty
I did as was told whatever the cost
Just making believe I sit here and wonder
Would my life been better were I never born
Never been born to this lightning and thunder
Just making believe, my God how I’m torn

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Firefly

We are, thankfully, nearing the end of the most disastrous presidential reign in the history of the United States. There have been incompetents, Carter comes to mind, there have been the corrupt, Harding, there have been the traitorous, Buchanan, but not until Obama have we had a president who was all three. And yet it was but a short six years ago that he burst on the scene, lighting the night sky with a cool blue light. What we didn’t know then was that he was like a firefly, briefly winking in the dark, the light not cool but cold.

The firefly with light so cold
Enchants the summer park
Flares briefly then, so I am told
His cold blue light is dark
And so it is with our Hussein
So briefly bright he flared
His cold blue light led to his reign
In which he never cared
To lead by smallest word or deed
The perks and Air Force One
Were all that he would ever need
Until his term was done
The smartest man in every room
Is what his minions cried
The world the bride and he the groom
The nation’s joy and pride
Unlike the firefly’s brief light
That so enchants the park
Hussein’s brief reign has brought the blight
That turned the light to dark

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It Ain’t Necessarily So

A social paradigm is the framework within which laws, thought and way of life is contained. People thought differently about a great many things a hundred years ago than do the people of today. A hundred years ago no one believed the government had a duty to care for the individual from cradle to the grave, but the people of this paradigm do. The current paradigm began with the collapse of the stock market in October 1929, ushering in the progressive paradigm that replaced the conservative paradigm that had lasted since the end of the Civil War. The new progressive paradigm was born in deep Depression, where the common theme was “Brother can youse paradigm.” I believe the progressive paradigm is due to be replaced, and the new paradigm may very well consist of a deep seated distrust of all authority, an attitude that It Ain’t Necessarily So.

We’re told the fierce Ebola will
Not ever reach these shores
That airport screening is so fine
They catch the smallest spores
And doubters of our wisdom are
Just hate filled right wing whores
But it ain’t necessarily so
We were told we’d keep our doctor
If we simply wanted to
And that Obamacare would help
Us all not just the few
And that we’d see great savings as
The health care bills came due
But it ain’t necessarily so
We’re told the world’s a peaceful place
Now that Obama’s here
That Muslim killers with big nukes
Is nothing we should fear
That open borders doesn’t draw
Third worlders far and near
But it ain’t necessarily so
And so the paradigm will shift
And things will turn around
Economies will stiffen and
The dollar will be sound
And all the things the Left has done
Will soon be underground
But that ain’t necessarily so

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Cruisin’ Down The River

A woman who had contact with Mr. Duncan, the Liberian Ebola victim who chose to die in Dallas rather than Monrovia, was discovered to be a passenger on a Carnival cruise line ship. The ship has been denied docking rights, and may be doomed to sail the seas forever, like the Flying Dutchman, very much like the country under the reign of the anointed Barack Obama. But everything is under control – Joe Biden’s chief of staff, a man with no medical experience whatever, has been appointed Ebola Czar, his qualifications for the post that he is part of the liberal Democrat hive, a loyal Obama apparatchik. But not to worry. We’re all on a cruise ship now.

Cruisin’ down the river
Sittin’ in the stern
She said she was his’n
And he said he was her’n
Thought they’d take vacation
Take a little cruise
Down that lonesome river
All their cares to lose
Man said to the captain
Sir, when can we dock
Captain said sir never
O has stopped the clock
All has been suspended
Till the Czar’s in place
On this endless river
At this fearsome pace
Racing to destruction
Passengers afeard
Like the Flying Dutchman
Till we’ve all been cleared
Many mornings later
Far far out to sea
Man says to the captain
Sickness seems to be
Raging through the cabins
Spreading far and wide
All are getting fearful
On this ‘ternal ride
On the ship Obama
Captain said to man
Locked up in your cabins
Is the master plan

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Lemmings

It turns out lemmings do not voluntarily go over the cliff. It has been revealed that the Disney documentary of years ago that showed the lemmings leaping off a cliff to their deaths was staged. The lemmings were brought to the cliff and placed on a turntable that flung them unwillingly off the cliff. A hundred years or so ago, while I was in the fifth grade, long before Walt Disney and his turntable, I became acquainted with the lemming myth, and being a fifth grader, believed every word of it. I didn’t realize it at the time, but people, like lemmings, do allow themselves to be led over the cliff, where they fall to their deaths still claiming allegiance to the guy who pushed them. These people are called Democrats.

They smile and twirl around like Peggy Fleming
And then over the cliff like any lemming
And as they fall they may be heard condemning
Our leaders past with woes completely stemming
From Georgie Bush’s hawing and his hemming
As all the Middle East reduced to fire
And little Georgie raised the Arab’s ire
Much worse than even by his inept sire
With wars of which he never seemed to tire
Till ended by a man we all admire
The world is much a far more peaceful place now
His policies are picking up the pace now
Obama sternly tells it face to face now
And the few foes we have all know the case now
Excuse me, but we’re leaping into space now
And so it goes, the Democratic Party
The cliffs are near and none want to be tardy
They sing and dance in voices gay and hearty
They think they have a permanent majarty
Over the cliff, the Democratic Party

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