Thursday, April 13, 2017

NaWriPoMo #17 & #18 The State of Politics and Chickens

Broken Aerial on the White House Lawn
Tiniest details
Tend to pale the big picture
If they are dull
It can affect the overall
So that a ball
Doesn’t enthrall
Those looking in
See it as this
A fleeting mist
The mask is corroded
Message encoded
Gems are paste
What a waste!
The music plays on
Real musicians gone
It is all a ruse
To keep us confused
What is the law?
Is stuck in my craw,
I want a drink
Because this stinks!
His finger poised
He’s making noise
He wants to be trusted
His logic’s busted
I can’t endorse
This wicked horse
As he isn’t a beast of burden
Just a burden of a beast
There is no grand ball
In a wonderful hall
We are choking
On our own spit
This is it!
Admit the party’s over
We’re not in clover
We have to find we
Not in some place overseas
But here where we are at
Not with a big bat
Let go of our fat
Get fighting trim
Go out on a limb
Give peace a chance!

Ode to Maria, Our Plucky Cuckoo Maran
Oh feathery butt,
How you do strut
Around our yard
looking hard for bugs
As I sip out of my mug
I see you tug
I watch as you consult
Your cohort girl and together
You dig and roll
I find you very droll!
Black and white specks
Jumping up to peck
And eat that leaf
Just out of reach
You can fly
Oh but why?
When you can jump!
As you claim that juicy clump
Of new spring leaves
That is small, but tease
You out of your frigid winter phase,
You pause and reflect
What you suspect is true
That even chickens have to thaw
And move to improve
There is no chicken spa
That you can go to
And so you jump up again
To move your mass
This time you spin
And miss it all together
I snort my tea
For this I’d pay a fee
To see your enthusiastic sprints
Or Herculean attempts
To get that one tiny scrap of spring
Without using your wings
Oh lovely girl that you are!
Forever in my heart
Hopping up and down
What a tickle of joy
You impart

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