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Fate
If society is not integrated
Society will be disintegrated
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NOTHING COMES AND GOES
Nothing comes and goes
And when it's gone
We're back here again
But nothing's here again
And we don't know it is
Unless it comes and goes
Rien vient et va
Et quand il est parti
Nous sommes encore ici
Mais rien est bien là
Et nous ne le savons pas
À moins qu'il vient et va
Nichts kommt und geht
Und als es gegangen sei
Sind wir noch hier dabei
Aber nichts doch schon hier streht
Scheint uns nicht daß es sich dreht
Wenn nicht es kommt und geht
(I wrote this in English and it did not rhyme.
I translated it into French and German and
it rhymes in those languages. Go figure! )
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Fractured
His rhymes are not flawless
He misses by far
His style is lawless
Close but no cigar
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Dying
Dying is part of living
Loving is part of giving
Persistence is part of trying
And living is part of dying
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Red Wine in the Evening
Red wine in the evening disengages my gears
Red wine in the evening modulates my fears
Red wine in the evening transitions my day
Red wine in the evening allows me to say
Things that I think about all the day long
Things that I think about that may be wrong
Things that I think about but never speak
Things that I think about when I'm feeling weak
Too weak to lift myself up from that place
Too weak to fashion a smile on my face
Too weak to remember how to be strong
Too weak to sing an old favorite song
An old favorite song that makes me smile
An old favorite song I haven't heard for a while
An old favorite song that makes me feel fine
An old favorite song like an old favorite wine
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My Father's Pen
My father's pen writes fascinating stories
And poems, and haiku, and allegories
And tales of woe, and mysteries
And Proustian prose, and histories
And musings on the meaning of life
And love letters to his now third wife
One children's book with a funny ending
And one on yoga with stretching and bending
And another all about health and nutrition
And even a book on psychic intuition
And three that dealt with room decor
And one huge tome on American folklore
And once he dabbled in science fiction
And he published a pamphlet on proper diction.
He wrote the lyrics to a rock 'n' roll song.
His book on China was 1000 pages long.
He wrote a letter to the editor of The New York Times
About how the police handled certain crimes.
As a restaurant critic, he mixed his metaphors
And ended up with purloined petits fours.
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Blonde Like Me
Not intending to deceive
But merely hide my gray
I bleached my hair from brown to blonde
On one cold winter's day
Though I never lacked attention
I soon discovered that
As a blonde I turned more heads
And often felt stared at
Smiles and favor came my way
More so than before
You don't know what you're missing
'til you become a Clairol® whore
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I
Why do we capitalize "I"?
It makes no sense to me.
I took a survey of my friends,
And me, myself, and I agree.
It's not because it's a one-letter word,
As "a" remains lower case.
It's not because of first-person status,
Since "me" and "myself"' occupy that same space.
So why do we capitalize "I"?
How important can "I" be?
Since you're an "I" and I'm a "you",
It makes no sense to "me."
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By Default
Oh, how I like to blame others
That I may remain exalted
It's important to be right
As those around me are faulted
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God Loves Me
That coffee has no calories is proof that God loves me
The lure of chocolate remains His worst joke
On the other hand, laughing burns fat
And I can buy egg whites without the yoke
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Without You It's Like
Peanut butter without jelly
Stars with no moon
The button without the belly
A piano out of tune
The boullia without the baisse
The poet without the rhyme
Perry Mason without a case
Or the chef who's out of thyme
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Rhyme Over Reason
Head over heels
Blades over wheels
Fair over fear
Joy over tear
Red over blossom
Pink over 'possum
Fork over spoon
Man over moon
Lemon over lime
Date over time
Mind over matter
Words over chatter
Mom over Pop
Scotch over hop
Deal over cards
Fence over yards
Iron over steel
Prayer over meal
Bottom over top
Block over chop
Dark over light
Land over flight
Belly over belt
Heart over felt
Bank over river
Arrow over quiver
Rhyme over reason
Time over season
Hand over fist
Love over tryst____________________________________________
Spilling Over
I love the unexpected rhyme
That comes when I commit the crime
Of spilling over to the next
Spaced stanza's line of text
And continue the on-going thought
Instead of ending where I ought
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I'm no Ogden Nash
Rhymes are not the latest rage
And though I'm no Ogden Nash
I persist in putting words to page
Aware it generates no cash
To state it simply isn't easy
Go ahead and try it
Dash off a ditty, light and breezy
Just don't expect someone will buy it
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Berries
Gary buys a lot of berries
He thinks he brings home ample
My job is to wash them
And on the sly I sample
Rarely do they last long
I frequently will nibble
I'm sure he knows I do it
But he's not one to quibble
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For a Price
What we've got here is a failure to remunerate
My services don't come cheap
For a price I will communicate
Prepare to spend a heap
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Count Down
Now I lay me down to sleep
To do that I'll be counting sheep
They've all run off with Little Bo Peep
I won't, as such, be getting much sleep