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Feeding fallacies

When on sugar, dairy
meat & chicken fed
our stomachs turn wary
as our waistlines spread

Indulging food, fat & salty
in lifestyle sedentary
downing drinks distilled & malty:
Shortcuts to cemetery!

On the smooth wings of chocolate
we soar into sweetened space
but lightheaded in the cockpit
we’ll crash in nauseous a place

Cheese of ambrosial yellow
sliced so thickly & warm
while the milk cows do bellow
as their udders deform

We leave our conscience unheeded
of ‘dairy farming’ cruel
If not morally enfeebled
wouldn’t we rather slurp gruel?

+)
-gruel = here: how anyone ‘addicted’ to salt, sugar, dairy, meat & sweets would regard any dish lacking these ingredients

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Placed on Earth to get along?

Are we placed here to get along
to act with sincerity
to stand up against what is wrong
in strong solidarity?

If put on earth to share
how are we doing?
If put on earth to care
how is it going?

Rather elbows sharp
mostly me first?
Do we harp & carp
gripes, grudges nursed?

We seem stuck estranged
Since when? No mystery
for not much has changed
believe our history:

Humans hardly humane
as far as species
We grab, lie, cheat & feign
& drain like leeches

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Pose of Rose

There! The thud on the porch
paper is brought in by Rose!
It lights her morning’s torch
settling in reading repose

The pose of her nose close
leaning in perfect adjure
reading in morning’s throes
absent acclaim or abjure

Every page she’s scouring
all news vacuumin’
All newsprint devouring
unmatched acumen

As long as it is all prose
it grabs the affection
of our ’suction cup nose’ Rose
Except the sports section

 

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Slicing to quintessence

When to consume feels choking
by gorging & swilling
somewhat akin to croaking
from stuffing & filling

Then slicing to quintessence
chaos turns clarity
sails out in luminescence
opens to charity

Be it just fleetingly of course
as much of that what I write
keeps turning out manure by horse
or at best of boorish sleight

Still rather write in faux creativity
than reading in lethargic passivity

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Channeling my inner changeling

When young I truly had no inkling
that I was but incipient
My alarm bell was never tinkling
while acted out my idiot

Traits that might disenchant
were so far constrained
My inner sycophant
kept grinning harebrained

Pathetic but hadn’t been in a rush
to question much my attitude
Middle age laid bare with horrid blush
my erstwhile lack of rectitude

Seems still that part of my essence
might consist of channeling
in blabbering omnipresence
my hapless inner changeling

It ain’t what I would like to see
or not who I prefer to be
although afraid it’s somehow me
from whom I’m unable to flee

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Morning routine

Radiating heater glowing
nearly grilling Joyce’s butt
Internet fun & jolts flowing
lifts her out of morning rut

She’s cozying up in her ‘cave’
Reads emails of rants & raves
Her clients’ situations grave
and she be the one who saves

But not for long in tether
so to stay strong & trim
she’s braving ‘Arctic’ weather
heading soon for the gym

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Best be aware that li

Beware of ads offering ‘free’ gifts
by busty ‘babes’ with rosy cheeks
Beware too that those composing gifs
might be high-tech chattering geeks

Beware of the neighbor’s dog
as well as of all rifts
Beware of much too strong grog
and those drunks draining fifths

Best always to stay aware
that Human Life doesn’t play fair

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Is our human ambivalence unfeigned?

While us humans run around & gush
the tide rises, sets absent all rush:

Twice daily reversing
when forward surging
flows without rehearsing
by moon’s might urging

Waves rolling back & forth
never known ailing
not in sorrow or mirth
ever found wailing

Forward, retreated
To shore replete
to sea depleted:
Cycle complete

Is our human ambivalence unfeigned
perhaps as well celestially aligned?

 

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Zilch to say?

With my rhyming goof

I don’t hold any sway
Just ever more proof
of having zilch to say

Suspect I’m but a fool
probably prideful
Had hoped witty or cool
even insightful

Lies not here the opportunity
of picking a path harmonic
to great relief of community
and turn ever more laconic?

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Roads avaricious lead to dead-ends pernicious

Might those unknown ‘truly humble’

be the sole ‘adults’ these days
those who rarely are heard grumble
those few who’d rather shun praise?

Shouldn’t those ‘faking being modest’
be deserving of our wrath?
These days invasive as sawdust
how they’re clogging up our path!

Who is propelled by humility
when comes to piling worldly excess?

Tailwinds push truculently
on many roads avaricious
wide, they gleam luminously
leading to dead-ends pernicious

Seems mere flash of futility
when pushing too hard for success?

+)
-‘adult’ = an emotionally, mentally & socially mature person – seen many recently?