Thursday, November 28, 2013

Shall I, or shan't I?

In the US
I must confess,
We seldom use "shan't."

 It's not that we can't.
It's not that we won't.
It's just that we don't.

Another way

They buy the stories, these "invincibles,"
Bright young men maimed, or killed in bloody war.
They bear their arms for "sacred" principles,
And gain much praise as old men keep the score.
The honesty and energy of soul,
That send a feckless soldier off to fight,
Could be used to seek a better goal,
To work for peace, to battle for what's right.
What book declares disputes must end in death?
What twisted father wants his son to kill?
What does it prove, to hear his son's last breath?
Does "Taps" provide the patriot a thrill?
We know the answer, and it lies within;
We live for war; when will peace begin?

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Death's design is always fair

Death's design is always fair;
He does his job everywhere,
And he doesn't even care
If you dance like Fred Astaire,
Win at cards, or shoot a bear.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Do you remember Cousin Grace?

Do you remember Cousin Grace?
Now "she's in a better place."

She "shuffled off this mortal coil,"
She's "gone to where there is no toil."

She's "up in heaven," where, I know
She "watches out" for us below.

Such euphemisms coyly try
To mask the truth that people die.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Generation gap

We got a buzz from beer and gin,
The younger guys spazzed out on pot;
To us, our kind of life was in,
To younger guys, so very not.

We thought we were cool and macho;
The younger guys just rolled a joint,
Drank cheap wine, and ate some nachos,
Got paranoid, and missed our point.