I Yam, Who I Yam!

Popeye was my kinda guy

a free spirit who says aye! aye!

I yam who I yam, he would say

a phrase that always made my day

the spinach-eating sailor was very strong

always stopping Brutus when he was wrong

Olive Oly was the apple of his eye

but that gal could be fickle and sly

promising kisses and expecting gifts

she was the cause of most of his rifts

but Popeye always came back for more

because it was Olive he did adore

Another Day On The Merry- Go-Round

awakening at the first light of day

I think of the challenges ahead

some with hope and others with dread

it’s never easy getting out of bed

the key, I’m told, is a good attitude

in spite of what may lie ahead

you realize it’s better than being dead

so let your worries go unsaid

life is a merry-go-round

my grandfather use to say

embrace it and have a good day!

Maniacal Melodies

once I watched looney tunes

with crazy music in the background

and loveable cartoon goons

back in the day

memories of maniacal melodies

morphed into dismay

listening to rock and roll

one fateful tropical day

in a helicopter on my way

to battle

Idiocracy and Liberty

it’s been plain to see

from sea-to-shining sea

America has become an idiocracy

instead of a democracy

oh say, can you see…

the dumbing down of our society?

our president’s notoriety?

the partisan impropriety?

someday historians will agree

this was a dark time in our history

our saving grace, we love to be free

we believe in social equality

and in the Constitution’s guarantee

the very foundation of this country

A Bird Jubilee

looking up at a beautiful blue sky

filled with flocks of busy birds

hearing an Orioles clear cry

a Veery Thrush’s sweet melody nearby

their acrobats in the sky

waterfall notes of tiny Wrens

flocks of feathered friends

Grosbeak’s melodic tones

White Geese’s harsh baritones

riding the winds currents

and the cross currents

sparrows sing joyfully

in a bird led jubilee

The Fable of Fate

scholars and philosophers claim

we are all victims of fate

in some big game

nothing is foreordained

our future is unwritten

we choose our own lane

how we spend each day

dealing with reality

and sometimes play

fate is not cast in concrete

framing your name

on destiny’s side street

I don’t care what the poets say

we are not bound by fate

or any other written cliché

and what pundits say