Critics will not be satiated

here at 61, still not bred,

got to get you out of my head,

Gaily at ease I stay in stead,

my critics will never be fed.

Changes come slow or fast,

I stick with my cohorts up to the last,

some have fled to death’s embrace,

Others stay behind, put on a brave face.

Relatively few of us still stand,

here in the barren Midwest;

we still work and play the best we can,

decorate, do some art, put on a fancy dress.

But never allow ourselves to get depressed,

we might miss one last party,

one last lucky trick to enjoy,

one more happy memory to create and express.

The critics will never stop,

but then again, neither will we.

On and on the circus goes,

yet slower and slower, awareness slows.

A gentle, rewarding grace in age at last,

allows an escape from hatred’s grasp.

We know better

or, a little trip of absurdity today.

Bitcoin, bitcoin, every little bitcoin,

stealthy financial sneak-ings all around.

Bitcoin, bitcoin, take another hit-coin,

pour another drink and drink it all up.

Launder that money, Russkies, send it

here and send it there and everywhere.

Our bankers won’t complain, won’t utter a peep.

No whistleblower will whistle a squeak.

Money is money, gold is gold,

everywhere you look, those rich are bold.

Baby boomers spend and get more old,

pill pushers keep pushing to help us cope.

LGBT rainbow bridges cross continents,

free the brave youth, save their lives.

New refugee movement to replace the old,

Where to put all of the dispossessed,

brutalized by their elite, the ever oppressed.

We could take them in, and get them undressed.

So much going on in the world today,

the terminator getting his back kicked,

our leader by his own party tricked.

Another presidential candidate whips

out his big attempt at a pirouette.

Rain, tornadoes, storms, flooding.

Human misery multiplies with absurdity.

Commercials pepper our brains with promises,

balmy pap reassures us it is just another day

in paradise.

We know better.

Ambrosia of the Lesser Gods

Day old Donuts are good for demeanor;

They deliver much delight, and usually

still taste delicious, especially when

warmed up with a dollop of butter.

Whether at an annual poetry convention,

or simply a Saturday morning at home,

They brighten up their surroundings,

colorful glazes invite salivating bites.

The price of new ones is enough to deter

a definitive decision to drop them in the cart.

But when evening approaches and the stores

drop the prices, minds change and more leave the store.

Diligent diets are deterred, for perhaps eternity,

when these delicious dainties are dangled eye-side.

It is enough to cause even the most libertarian diner

to grab em, curse and mutter: “There outta be a law...”

Space Time Excitement Loops

Whether describing an EM drive to

push spacecraft and ignore Einstein,

or talking up the 100-year Starship plan,

human eyes look to starry skies, desiring to fly.

Those tantalizing nuggets floating out there

may contain tons of gold and platinum!

All just waiting for the right company to exploit ‘em;

Dreamers keep eyeing and plotting and hoping.

Someday someone will make a crucial leap,

another will adjust a value here and there,

a third get some financing,

a forth talk some key official into it.

And it will happen, and happen, and happen.

Then the human swarm will blanket our solar system,

Building, exploiting and populating orbiting rocks all over.

(*grinning in amazement*)

Amazing to contemplate what will be up ahead...

Could Galileo or Newton conceptualize the

colossal mess they helped engender?

I bet not, although given their intellect, perhaps so.

Meantime, stay tuned to the small hardy bands working

to make the future a reality, however it ultimately turns out.

https://www.nasa.gov/ames/ocs/2014-summer-series/harold-white

https://100yss.org/mission/purpose

Supernaturale, or to Them from Us

 MUFON and the US navy are watching you,

you rascally space beings flitting yourselves

across our innocent skies with impudence.

How dare you, with ghostly forms,

teleport yourselves in and out of

our awareness, teasing consciousness.

Move objects with your forces,

scare poor inferiors into submission.

Why do you need this isolated rock?

We are just scraping sustenance and

sexing ourselves into senselessness;

Why torture us with your rays?

Around these galactic parts, we

are the ones in charge, in case you

haven’t become aware of our junk.

To react takes us at least days,

while you flutter in and out of

our corporeal matter in microseconds.

Your essence is dark and quick,

fearing nothing, assimilating everything;

Did we ever stand a chance?

Just remember in your conquers,

the delicate tendrils you absorb

and delight in become a part of you now.

Yes – you are now us as we are you,

there is no escape from total unity.

Thank you for handing us that one victory.