Poem of the Week: 2/27/26

Survival Imperative

Looking back at time,
Some 14 billion years.
Appears to be a big bang,
The sum of all fears.

All that exists,
Exploding into space,
Filling it with hot dust,
Star incubating place.

Gravity pulled stars,
Into galaxies of grace,
Gravity holes in center,
Mind bending chase.

Stars grew too large,
Exploding in place,
Or grew too small,
Into red dwarf face.

Exploding stars created,
New elements from old.
A process so violent,
Impossible to behold.

When it all came together,
Molten, round a small sun,
The Earth was born, so rare,
It may be the only one.

A Goldilocks planet,
Not too hot, or too cold.
With a sun just right,
Not too young or too old.

Where water was plentiful,
Molten Iron core to yield,
Atmosphere with weather,
Protected by magnetic field.

Geological upheaval common,
Creating mountains and valleys,
Water and wind erosion,
Softening the edges and alleys.

Where life came about,
In a molecule rich stew,
A single cell amoeba,
Ancestor of me, and you.

Where everything ate,
Everything its own way,
Some of it, predator,
Most of it, prey.

Instinct to intelligence,
Intelligence to tools,
Humans took charge,
Of predatory rules.

The strongest survived,
Took everything we think,
While the weak perished,
Their bloodlines extinct.

Greed for more is ingrained,
In the predatory mind,
In humans this greed,
Is one of a kind.

It has reached the point,
On our fragile small sphere,
Where we're eating our existence,
Through ignorance, I fear.

Predatory behavior must change,
If we are to ultimately survive.
Eating our earth to thrive,
Will leave no one alive.

rwh 2/26/26

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Poem of the Week: 02/20/26

My Pome

Hears a pome I thot I rote.
I'm not a pote of any note.

Jes lik to cee my pomes in prnt.
Where I ken fume an vent.

My desirs, like, came an wint.
Theys always, like hevn sint.

To the gurl of my drems.
My hart busting the sems.

I'll end thes pome for now,
Cuz, I thnk she wus a cow.

rwh 2/19/26

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162 Poem of the Week: 02/12/26

The Mess

Everything is a mess,
And nothing seems right.
When I try not to miss,
It misses out of sight.

The weather is crazy,
And so are my kin.
When I pick up a daisy,
A rash itches my skin.

The sky is falling,
With that guy at the helm.
I'm not of his calling,
Certainly, not of his realm.

I'm up to my ears,
In alligator muck.
With all of my fears,
making me upchuck.

So, if you're in a mess,
And want to get out.
Don't read this poem,
It'll leave you in doubt.

rwh 02/09/26

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Poem of the Week: 02/06/26

Love Is

Love is in an infant's eyes,
Love is in strong family ties,
Love is innocence becoming wise.

Love is old and love is new,
Love is me and love is you,
Love is never, ever, blue.

Love is natural and benign,
Love is easy on the mind,
Love is the best you'll find.

Love is what can make you cry,
Love is what can make you lie,
Love is what can make you die.

Love is hard to completely define,
Love is often different over time,
Love is like aged fine wine.

Make love, not war, while you live,
Make the world better as you give.

rwh 02/05/26

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Poem of the Week: 01/30/26

Mistakes Made

Mistakes I've made a plenty,
In a long and action filled life.
Always trying to be kind,
Never wanting to create rife.

Some mistakes were easy to fix,
By simply making the act right.
But some mistakes were forever,
Never fixed or bid, “good night.”

I have had sleepless nights from some,
While others gave me no cause to worry.
Some, I rushed quickly to correct,
While others, I was in no hurry.

Mistakes have shaped my life,
In many good and bad ways.
But I have had better luck than most,
Many more carefree than worried days.

So, if you worry about making mistakes,
Always careful about what you do or say.
My advice would be not to be uptight,
But let mistakes help shape your way.

rwh 01/29/26

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Poem of the Week: 01/23/26

Freeze Again

It sneaks silently down from the north.
A killing machine as efficient as any,
Ever devised by man.

Yet essential to so many species.
That rely on it for an annual cycle,
Of life because they can.

All water-based life is in danger.
As internal water turns to ice.
For organisms that can stand it,
Pressure, like a reverse vice.

Without a way to keep us warm,
Humans' blood vessels burst.
When gangrene sets in after,
A slow death is the worst.

Even atoms are affected,
When the temperature drops.
their fundamental movement,
Slows and eventually, stops.

Much of outer space is frozen,
Locked in dark matter's grace.
It takes a cataclysmic explosion,
To heat a very small place.

In one tiny solar system,
Warmed for four billion years,
One minuscule blue tropical planet,
Has withstood a billion tears.

Every time a freeze creeps in,
With it, our greatest fears.

rwh 01/22/26

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Poem of the Week: 01/16/26

Use Me Blues

Chorus

You use me up.
You use me down.
You use me like a clown.
You'll never stop using me.
As long as I'm around.

[Stanza 1]

I thought you were my friend.
My partner to the end.
But you done cheated me.
Broken. while you bend.

[Chorus]

You use me up.
You use me down.
You use me like a clown.
You'll never stop using me.
As long as I'm around.

[Stanza 2]

I was so open.
To all you asked.
Little did I know.
That it wouldn't last.

[Chorus]

You use me up.
You use me down.
You use me like a clown.
You'll never stop using me.
As long as I'm around.

[Stanza 3]

Now I am way down.
Deep in the blues.
With nothing left.
For you to use.

[Chorus]

You use me up.
You use me down.
You use me like a clown.
You'll never stop using me.
As long as I'm around.

Deep in the blues.
With nothing left.
For you to use.

With nothing left.
For you to use.

rwh 01/11/26

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Poem of the Week: 01/09/26

When I Die

A tribute to Don McLean's lyrics that are
second to none and using his music for this one.

[Verse 1]

Long ago when I was young,
Rock 'n' roll was number one.
Listening to WLS on the car radio,
When powerful AM was the way to go,
And we really had no other choice.
Still hear his “Because it's hard“ voice.
But 1963 in Dallas made me quiver,
Shortly after, paralysis would deliver,
And I wouldn't write a word again,
Couldn't even hold a pen.
But I returned to college by fall,
Determined to follow my call.

[Chorus]

Goodbye to the hot rod days,
Have to think of it as a phase.
Those good old boys I left behind,
Always had a different mind,
Riding rockets and being kind.

[Verse 2]

Joined the religion of civil rights,
Rallied against foreign war fights.
Could always dance fast and real slow,
Wooed freshman girls, but let 'em go,
Marryin' wasn't then on my mind.
Grass was greener in their eyes,
Always left me for more stable guys.
The summer of love left me lonely,
But 1968 would deliver from Dion,
Bobby with Abraham, Martin and John.
Questioning the track I was on.
Hope being an astronaut long gone.

[Chorus]

Goodbye to the hot rod days,
Have to think of it as a phase.
Those good old boys I left behind,
Always had a different mind,
Riding rockets and being kind.

[Verse 2]

Theoretical engineering not my style,
Studied philosophy for a brief while.
Left industry in my wake,
College teaching began to take.
A kind of freedom to explore,
Opening up poetry's golden door.
Disco reigned across the dance floor,
But I loved rock and soul to my core,
Beatles, Jackson 5, Prince and more.
Eight tracking Janice crying out,
Jimi's guitar wailing his doubt.
While we all felt their mortal pain,
They left us standing in the rain.

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]

We all cheered when the wall came down,
But trickle-down policy made us frown,
And regime changing wasn't my style,
John Lennon imagined it before most,
From Vietnam on, failed by a mile.
And “Can't we all just get along? “
Rodney King's declaration, my song.
When college teaching lost its vibe,
Bloated administration saved my hide.

He said, “Let's turn this place around.“
And for a while we did, but found,
The accountants sang a different tune.
Money flowed to the top and left the room.

[Chorus]

[Verse 4]

Rollin' the highways coast to coast,
Border to border what happened beyond, to toast.
Radio turned up the most.
Had to come to an end.
A new kind of rollin' host,
Driving becoming a ghost.
Until, from a wheelchair bound,
Another 165,000 miles was found.
Flying with zero pressure controls.
Writing my voice like never before.
Rollin' out novels, stories and more.
Technology saved my mortal soul.
While loving human hands,
Helped me make every goal.

[Chorus]

[Verse 5]

I feel the ones that rap their pain,
But slam poetry was never my game.
It's the old songs that stir my soul,
The ones that I remember and sing.
The ones that make my heart ring,
For when the final bell tolls.
And time has come full circle,
I'll remain young growing old.
Wondering if I've gained wisdom,
For which I am sometimes told.
When I die, don't bury me,
In that riverside calm with my clan.
Spread my ashes in the wind,
Everywhere I've ever been.

[Chorus]

Goodbye to those carefree days,
Have to think of them as a phase.
Goin' to a better place and time,
One that will always rhyme.

rwh 01/08/26

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Poem of the Week: 01/02/26

Days of Yore

Refrain

Raise a glass to those days of yore,
To all the ones gone before,
To all the ones lost in war,
To all the ones lost and poor.

To all the things left undone,
To all the chances left unwon,
To all the regrets under the sun,
To all the loves lost in fun.

(Refrain)

To all the writers we have known,
To all the artists who have flown,
To all the musicians still unknown,
To all creation's light not shown.

(Refrain)

To all the wonders yet to come,
To all vying to be number one,
To all world changing under the sun,
To all freedom and equality for fun.

(Refrain)

Raise a glass to those days of yore,
Hoping for a better world and more.

rwh 01/01/26

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Poem of the Week: 12/26/25

Upon a Mind Clear

It came up upon a mind clear,
At solstice this time of year,
That the baby Jesus story,
Was just a religious schmeer.

Sometime after harvest of joy,
Facing a time of future fear.
When all that was gathered,
Wasn't enough, starvation near.

On the shortest day of the year,
Elders knew days longer grew.
Tough it out until the spring, when,
Everything was plentiful, new.

All northern people faced the same,
A long cold winter, sure as rain.
Whether by feast or yule log,
Singing a hearty, drunken refrain.

Christian conquerors wanted more,
Heathen pagans into their fold.
So, they conjured up a baby story,
Of innocence would never grow old.

Wrote heavenly lyrics,
To bawdy tavern songs.
Ensuring that even heathens,
Knew how to sing along.

Mixing tradition with the Jesus story,
Giving of gifts part of the glory.
Even Jewish shop owners joined in,
And conspicuous consumption began.

rwh 12/25/25

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Poem of the Week: 12/19/25

A Drug for That

I'm told there's a drug for that,
A drug for youth and one for old.
A drug for fear and one for bold.
A drug that's hot and one that's cold.

I'm told there's a drug for that.

A drug for sickness and for health,
A drug for poverty and one for wealth.
A drug for lazy and one for stealth.

I'm told there's a drug for that.

A drug for this and a drug for that,
A drug that's become old hat.
A drug for up and a drug for down.
A drug for happy and one for frown.

A drug for everything under the sun,
So don't complain if you're not having fun.
Just get the right drug and you'll be OK.
At least that's what the ads say.

And there's a side effect for that!

rwh 12/18/25

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Poem of the Week: 12/12/25

Where Nobody Goes

Down in the country,
Where nobody goes.
Got no money,
No new clothes.

Barely get by,
On what I got.
And what I got,
Ain't a lot.

Food I gather,
Or catch if I can.
There's no free lunch,
In nobody's land.

But life is simple,
If you like it that way.
Trade or cash,
If you have to pay.

I'll see you soon,
Where nobody goes.
We're all headed there,
As our debt grows.

rwh 12/11/25

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Poem of the Week: 12/5/25

Go with the Flow

I'll go along with the flow,
Wherever life takes me.
Resistance is impossible,
When the glide is free.

Whether it be infinite highway,
River with no perceivable end,
Tradewinds temperate passage,
Or jet stream earth round bend.

Sailing the silent solar wind,
Riding a comet around the sun,
Sucked into a bleak black hole,
Or from the galaxy outcast flung.

Wherever love takes me,
In this life of ups and downs,
As I both struggle and relax,
Smile in the face of frowns.

I'll ride with it on forever,
Until my journey ends.
Enjoy the ride's serendipity,
With every message it sends.

Come ride with me and see,
The future is better than the past.
We'll travel to it together,
Savor every moment as our last.

rwh 12/4/25

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Poem of the Week: 11/27/25

Humble Pie

“There but for good fortune, go you or I.” Phil Ochs

This thankful season, by and by,
It's time to eat some humble pie.
Turkey with trimmings meets the eye,
From humble beginnings, we get by.

We no longer hunt turkey for the table,
We no longer plant ground for stable.
We sit behind desk or computer instead,
Overeat without a thought in our head.

But there are starving in our midst.
Brushed off as losers evil kissed.
We throw crumbs while passing by,
Never asking ourselves, why?

We think we know why they are there,
But we 've never traveled in their shoes.
Never felt their very real pain, sometimes,
Even thought of their loss as our gain.

If we don't heed Mother Nature's cry,
We all will be forced to eat humble pie.

Bye and bye.

rwh 11/27/25

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Poem of the Week: 11/21/25

Rushin' Pushin' Poet

There once was a fine rushin' poet from New Haven,
Who turned out stark, crass poetry like a true maven.
But once a rushin', always a rushin',
His mother country conspiracy pushin'.
Till, even his mentor found his puttin' quite ill taken.

rwh 11/20/25

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Shush Poem of the Week: 11/14/25

Tory on the Range

An allegory for our time.
A view from the back porch.

Tory's out building fences,
Bolstering his defenses,
By going to war.

Wild, the range is not safe.
Diverse evolution is rife,
Tame, loyal, native cattle roam,
Give no evil predators a home.

Have no beef with the rest,
Long as they buy my beef best.
Go after them legal or not,
Hired guns the best shot.

Annex any underused land,
Build my spread so grand,
Other cattle barons will envy,
What true grit will and can be.

Must exploit everything to advantage,
Leave the rest to their mismanage,
Pay them good wages to cringe,
If not, I'll easily fly off the hinge.

View my empire with glory,
If challenged, will get gory.
Hiigh in the saddle,
No need to prattle.

Now that I own the range.

rwh 11/13/25

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Poem of the Week: 11/7/25

Remembering Them
All the ones I lusted for,
When love was just a score.
Not wanting to marry quick,
Settle down, mind turning thick.

They may have wanted pleasure,
When it was security, they treasure.
Did not have a sense of adventure,
Unwilling to step into any venture.

Some regretted it, I hope,
When they left me for a dope,
I felt that internal regret,
Pains a bit still, and yet.

They are gone and I am now,
What I have, better somehow.
Than all the ones from before,
From former flash of adore.

rwh 11/6/25

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Poem of the Week: 10/30/25

Changes

Weather changed out of the blue,
Knife filleting unsuspecting spine.
Cold star vanished from view,
Ice cube losing it in hot brew.

Leaves have turned yellow,
Wilted, and wind scattered about.
There's nothing beautiful in it,
As distance spring is in doubt.

Winds of change know no bounds,
Turning inside, upside and out.
Like the manic dance of clowns,
Draining flavor from the grounds.

Standing on the precipice of doubt,
Looking for answers never found out.
Changes will come, changes will go,
Readers of tea leaves will never know.

rwh 10/29/25

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Poem of the Week: 10/24/25

Eye of the Eagle

From the eye of the eagle,
In the center of the storm,
Comes a depth of understanding,
Understanding the new norm.

Eyes everywhere are watching,
Sharper than eyewitness accounts.
They catch the storm briefly,
Casting much fewer doubts.

Caught in the act of everything,
From mundane to misbelief.
Capturing moments and movements,
In sometimes, stark relief.

Zeroing in on the truth,
Casting off hearsay doubt.
Faster and more accurately,
Truth of the matter found out.

Comes along another kind of eye,
Created by some of evil intent.
Creating what seems like reality,
But it is just fabricated AI vent.

Beware of the truth sayers,
bloggers and purveyors bent,
Getting you under their evil spell,
Leaving you bloody, totally rend.

rwh 10/23/25

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Poem of the Week: 10/17/25

Together

Together we can weather,
Almost anything that comes.

Alone, I am adrift and crippled,
No opposing fingers and thumbs.

With you at my side, together,
We are an imposing force.

Without you, I would be gone,
Crushed by life's cruel course.

Our future became much brighter,
Than any past future before.

Who wants to go back to world wars,
With people like us under attack?

I, stigmatized and considered useless,
You, considered inferior and weak.

Who wants to go back to great again,
With all that time and people seek.

In spite of perils, our future,
Will be greater than evermore.

And if it isn't by stupid fault,
We'll be gone well before.

Bye-bye to American pie,
We've had our fill, cannot lie.

rwh 10/16/25

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Poem of the Week: 10/10/25

Forgetting

Forgot to write this poem yesterday,
I always write a poem a week.
Forgetting when to write it,
Is not a path I wish to seek.

Find myself forgetting events,
That often come my way.
I mark them on my calendar,
Forget to check them that day.

I'm forgetting familiar names,
For faces I can clearly make out.
So frustrated trying to remember,
Like a kid again, I nearly pout.

Not forgetting my life events,
Clear as when they occurred.
Sometimes even enhanced,
Clearer written not blurred.

But there are gaps in my life,
Of the routine things I did.
Where I shopped for groceries,
Completely left my head.

My life is full of simple routine,
That's getting out of sync.
Like writing a story backwards,
Or running out of ink.

Read where simple forgetting,
Does not dementia bring.
Just a part of growing older,
As I forget the songs I sing.

rwh 10/10/25

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Poem of the Week: 10/3/25

Drive No More

At the dawn of intelligence, the drive, the thing.
Drive the animal to the killer, for a full belly fling.

Driving animals was so successful, some are gone.
Even the great woolly mammoth has passed on.

Growing up driving the animals to pasture and back.
Vigilant while there to avoid animal or human attack.

Hoping to be given the team reins to hold,
Was an act that made youngsters bold.

Then, the newfangled horseless carriage came along,
And a tiller replaced the reins as the beast bucked on.

The teller was soon replaced by the steering wheel,
Power from a foot throttle enabled wheels to squeal.

The electric starter made it easy for women to drive,
And power enhancements allowed anyone to thrive.

We relied on driving for 100 years or more,
Mostly for driving short distance to the store.

But the Internet is rapidly changing our trip plan.
Internet allows getting anything by delivery man.

Self-driving cars like a flood are coming fast.
Safer and more efficient than driving data past.

Driving was once an adult passage right,
Youngsters today won't get in a traffic fight.

Even owning trucks and cars for most,
Will become too expensive and ghost.

Services taking you everywhere you guess,
Will not need a driver and will cost much less.

If you doubt the trend you are a back slider,
And time will convince you; you're just a rider.

rwh 10/2/25

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Poem of the Week: 9/26/25

Clear My Head

Just writing this poem to clear my head,
After spending all day doing what I dread.

Seems a possible fraudulent charge,
On my funny money plastic card.

Has been canceled in a hurry,
By the bank's own safeguard.

Automatically pay my bills that way,
So, I have to inform everyone that I pay.

But all their websites have new rules,
All of them requiring complicated tools.

Denying me more often than not,
requiring me to call an AI idiot.

Just when I think I may be all done,
Oops, forgot there's another one.

Head feels much clearer now,
Just writing this poem somehow.

rwh 9/25/25

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Poem of the Week: 9/19/25

No Gases

Yes, we have no gases, gases for free.
Yes, we have no gases, yeseriee.

Consumed mucho garbage yesterday,
Hoping that the gases would play,
But gases are a fickle lot,
So, relax and let it lay.

Gases will come in their own due time,
And surprise everyone with their rhyme.

No, we have no gases today.
But wait till mañana, farting,
they'll come out to play,
With a sorrow of sweet parting.

Ancient sea creatures, millions,
Gave their lives for gases today.
We pay through the nose,
For these noble gases,
From creature's final day.

When you see gas bubbling up,
In the tundra permafrost up north,
It's from a much warmer time,
Returning to burn the Earth.

But we claim we have no gases,
We have plenty gases, hell.
We frack and fart it daily,
for all the world to smell.

rwh 9/18/25

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Poem of the Week: 9/12/25

AI for Nothing

[Verse 1]
Oh, that's the way to do it,
No need to be workin',
Makin' money with free AI.

That's the way to do it now,
Sit back and stream TV.

Maybe get a sore back sittin',
Maybe get eye strain, too.

No more carpal tunnel syndrome,
Typin' too much for you.

[Chorus]
We gotta make more microchips,
We gotta build more data centers,
We gotta make more robots/droids,
Gotta make more self-flying cars.

[Verse 2]
See that little best-selling author?
The one still in high school?
Little weasel got his own flying car,
With AI doing it, he's a billionaire.

See that Pulitzer Prize winning poet?
He didn't even lift a pen or type a key.
That's the way you do it now,
Tell AI to do it for you, then wait and see.

[Interlude]
Yeah, watch the money roll in for free,
(techno music)

[Chorus]
We gotta make more microchips,
We gotta build more data centers,
We gotta make more robots/droids,
Gotta make more self-flying cars.

[Verse 3]
Gotta get me one a them fem androids,
No more menopause bitching for me.
Do my bidding without any complaint,
That's the way I want to see.

She can make the money on AI for me,
No more worries, as far as I can see.
She's worth the money, way up front.

No better way to get it easy and free.

[Interlude]
Yeah, she can do it for ya, huh,
No chicks for me.

(techno music)

[Chorus]
We gotta make more microchips,
We gotta build more data centers,
We gotta make more robots/droids,
Gotta make more self-flying cars.

Just look at all them lazy dudes,
Just livin' easy like taking ‘ludes.
Rakin' in the money like no regret,
Chicks doin' same sans those rudes.

Floating in space fat and sassy,
A pill for that to make you classy.

Money from AI to make you free,
Isn't that what heaven supposed to be?

We gotta make more microchips,
We gotta build more data centers,
We gotta make more robots/droids,
Gotta make more self-flying cars.

Gotta make more chips.
make truer life-like AI.

Gotta make more fly,
make more creamy pie.

Gotta make more droids.
make more hot flash cash.

Gotta get to Mars just to see,
What's in it for me, hah?

(techno music)

rwh 9/11/25

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Poem of the Week: 9/5/25

Strangely

Something is clearly out of range,
I'd have to describe it as strange.

Everything we thought was true,
Suddenly, mysteriously, doggy doo.

When down is up and up is down,
What was sad becomes a clown.

And all the worlds of stages to see,
Are launch pad stages to eternity.

All fuzzy quarks and lethal vermin,
Dissolving into princely ermine.

Life is stranger than stranger be,
Thanks to social media and me.

rwh 9/5/25

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Poem of the Week: 8/29/25

Floating on Air

There is no better place than floating on air.
Remembering the last kiss that put me there.

Lying back in water, just letting the ripples play,
Until I sunk without an innertube holding sway.

But those days are gone and require a new tack,
To just lay back, relax and float away in fact.

But gravity is an insidious, evil force,
That keeps us firmly held down, of course.

Just try and lie in one place too long,
And pain will sing you an awful song.

The ultimate floating is in outer space.
Where even sex can be done with grace.

But there is no air cushion in that alien place,
Not breathing, your comfort will quickly erase.

But metaphorically, the poet can do it all day,
And in one's mind eye, like a dream, our way.

See you floating by…

rwh 8/28/25

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Poem of the Week: 8/22/25

Sky's the Limit

The sky is no longer the limit,
For how far it goes.
With AI at our backs,
Nobody really knows.

If we can dream it,
We can make it come to pass.
We just have to do it,
Before we run out of gas.

Or someone else thinks of it,
And beats us to the punch.
For there are predators out there,
That will eat your lunch.

So don’t limit your prospects,
to atmospheric space,
The outer limits grow,
With every innovation race.

Get in pot a brewing,
Or vanish without a trace.

* rwh 8/21/25

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Poem of the Week: 8/15/25

Draining

I dream of things that never will be,
But then, again, may surprise me

For there is nothing in our dreams,
To keep them from bursting seams

Barriers thought once not crossed,
Forging forward regardless of cost

The force of nature is quality growth,
Bringing with it good and bad, both

To be around to see an idea birth,
To watch it grow, conquer the Earth

That is what dreaming does for me,
Creates new vistas for us to see

rwh 8/14/25

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Poem of the Week: 7/25/25

Mind Blown

The future is upon us,
Arriving so fast,
It is hard to keep up,
So little it will last.

With mind blowing,
Innovation and speed,
Quickly enhancing,
Every new human need.

If we survive,
Rush of this new drug,
Hard to sweep anything,
Under the rug.

Quickly becoming obsolete,
Our minds will be gone,
Free to wander the woods,
Like a newborn fawn.

rwh 7/24/25

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Poem of the Week: 7/18/25

Newfangled Things

Words of my grandfather,
In my mind, still rings.
To hear him talk,
of newfangled things.

Remember when the racket,
Of the horseless carriage,
Gasoline and oil making,
An uneasy marriage.

Ladies had to lift their skirts,
And run. chickens flew,
When those youngins,
Drove wildly through town.

And roll over, Alexander Bell.
The Missus on the crank phone,
That drat party line operator,
Spreading gossip here to Nome.

It aint safe fer a man to fly.
In one of them jet planes in the sky.
Theys sure to come apart and fall.
Ill take the train in leisurely style,
Beat that plane by a country mile.

Dont need no personal computer,
Pencil and paper works just fine for me.
Mailman is always on time with the mail.
Dont need no other contraption, see.

What is up with these kids these days?
Walking with the phone to their ear.
No friendly conversations I hear,
Just them talking into space, I swear.

I used to look forward to waiting time,
Strike a new conversation,
With a stranger waiting in line.

But now they all have their nose,
In their smart lonely pasttime,
Texting their hearts out,
Without reason or rhyme.

Wonder what they will think,
of newfangled things?
When they grow older and wiser,
And their AI acquaintance rings?

rwh 7/17/25

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Poem of the Week: 7/11/25

Life

Life is a marvel to behold,
With everything growing,

From birth until old.
Reproducing into the fold.

Interconnected in so many ways,
Making use of both nights and days.

Made up of both predator and prey,
Necessary to balance the sway.

Enriching the Earths thin soil,
With countless species spoil.

Enriching the Earths thin atmosphere,
With oxygen enough to spare.

Enter the most aggressive life form,
Seeking to exploit regardless of harm.

Life becomes made of metal and rust,
With it, the destruction of all trust.

Life becomes digital at its core,
Organic life can survive no more.

All life topples down the food chain.
What is progress when there is no gain?

rwh 6/3/25

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Poem of the Week 7/5/25

Corruptus Interruptus

Civilization progresses at a snails pace.
Something that should be a disgrace.
Repeating over and over the worst of us,
Always creating turmoil and distrust.

Always those who see opportunity,
Trying to do something for humanity.
When they take advantage of trust,
And corrupt even the best of us.

Setting civilization back in time,
While citizens weep and whine.
Countless death and misery wrought,
While scoundrels remain uncaught.

A legal system to protect the crooks,
Leaving a bad taste and dirty looks,
When their lawyers and judges win,
Their cases of the most grievous sin.

Protected by religious mumbo-jumbo,
Corruption uses to take a tumble,
Down routes we should not travel,
Causing civilization to unravel.

Perhaps we will never come to a place,
Where leaders will no longer disgrace,
greatest principles we can embrace,
Avarice and greed to finally, erase.

rwh 7/4/25

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Poem of the Week: 6/27/25

Comes the Rain

To wash away dirt and pain,
to nourish thirsty plant gain,
Drought finally, to wane.

To fill the rivers to overflow,
To fill the lakes deep and slow,
Nourish oceans far below.

To fill the skies with fiery light,
To fill frail hearts tremble fright,
Thunder cracks in the night.

To hear the winds mighty roar,
To hear trees cry never before,
Tornado rips with mighty gore.

To feel the heat turn suddenly chill,
To start shivering and feeling ill,
Cold front brings a bitter pill.

Comes the rain,
With good and bad will.

rwh 6/27/25

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Poem of the Week: 6/20/25

Life Depends on It

Poets think our lives depend on love,
Religious folks think it is from up above.

But getting more down to earth,
It is the simple things from our birth.

Air,
water, food and shelter, first,
Before we can quench that love thirst.

But most take those things for granted,
Although they never really were.

Lives today depend on quick action,
Heimlich maneuver kind of traction.

From pacemakers to stents we extend life,
But when we fail, only action prevents strife.

With Life Alert we make the call,
To 911,
EMTs come quick after a fall.

There is a pill for everything under the sun,
Most of them help; some we should run.

If it is you, this rhyme depends,
Many ways that we stop life ends.

Pray if you like and thank your lucky stars,
You can even think of going to Mars.

Let alone survive there if you Musk.

rwh 6/19/25

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Poem of the Week: 6/13/25

Sanities Wane

Sanity is on the wane,
When what was good,
No longer rides,
On that lost soul train.

Where good is now bad,
And bad is still worse,
Leading us with lies,
to back of the hearse.

So many cults to join,
So many influencers,
And pundits we find,
To swear by their line.

Taking knowledge on,
With a wrecking ball,
When we get burned,
Can blame it all.

On everything but,
The bear in the room,
While cookie cutting,
Visions of doom.

Until we all follow,
Our latest great find,
Without ever knowing,
We are losing our mind.

rwh 6/12/25

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Poem of the Week: 5/30/25

Comfort

Oh, to sleep well at night,
And be well fed.
Have enough cover,
Even have a bed.

To endure the desert heat,
Hot sand where you tread,
Parched throat and lips,
Inferno sun beating head.

Frigid cold wind blows,
Through cracks in walls,
One slip on the trail ice,
Thousand foot falls.

When a fog of mosquitoes,
Descends upon flesh,
ticks and the deer flies,
All seek blood fresh.

Lost at sea without bearings,
Drifting wind tossed waves.
Hoping for freshwater rain,
amid raw fish craves.

This planet we live on,
Is a perilous place.
It is also very beautiful,
When perils are erased.

So, when you settle in to enjoy,
Streaming movie, drink and snack,
Think of those with no food in their bellies,
Trying to sleep fitfully with what they lack.

Bare necessities taken for granted,
Could be gone in an instant, you see,
with the seeds of hate we planted,
Thinking we were eternally free.

rwh 5/29/25

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Poem of the Week: 5/23/25

Memory Moral Day

It is with great regret,
That I think of, and yet,
That I have lost all my,
Marbles to forget.

But there is this wonderful guy,
They call him simply, AI,
Who finds what I cannot remember,
In a cloud lightning sky.

From the top of my noodle,
All I have to do is Google,
And my memory returns,
Like a 100 meter boondoggle.

The good part of forget,
There is no moral regret.
My morality is wiped clean,
Beginning again with a gleam.

With no moral worry,
I am not eager to hurry,
And blame others,
For how they are blurry.

In fact, I find truth,
In rebirth of youth,
Returning to my childhood,
Innocence, not uncouth.

rwh 5/21/25

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Poem of the Week: 5/16/25

Sexing the Calendar

Jan was either woman or man,
And if she/he did a naked cancan,
Could you Shirley tell?

Feb could have been a reb,
It is really hard to William Tell,
But if he/she yells that rebel yell,
I would advise to run like hell.

Mar put his/her boots on the table,
Made a mark where she/he not able,
To fix it where no one could tell.

April was sweet as could be,
Drew out the birds and bees to see,
No doubt about her real sex,
Until his drawers reveal the hex.

May was girlish as the moon,
Danced may pole way too soon,
Singing the wrong tune,
Ending up in June.

June was looney as the moon,
Like a wolf she/he would croon.
But do not go out at noon in June,
According to the old Nordic rune.

July was certainly a rowdy guy,
Raised his/her beer mug high.
But from the tenor of her/his voice,
Shemale, clearly, was a sexual choice.

Augie was a sight to watch,
Had no bulge in his/her crotch.
He/she got some augmentation there,
Still looked like a vulva, I swear.

Sept sipped cider through a straw,
Did not sit well with a French craw,
Asked, Do you sip cider by the seashore?
Not since you left me, forever more.

Oct asked the octopus, what color are you?
Depends on my mood, red or blue.
I am a flaming red drag queen, or I am,
Fleeing a suitor in ink black hue.

Nov pride was close to the worst,
Built up to the point of a supernova burst.
Finally got the whole thing cooled down,
Turning the jealousy from laugh to frown.

Dec was left last for one big reason,
Filled full of gluttony during the season,
Could not fit into anything with a fat ass.
Nocturnal preferences without any class.

rwh 5/8/25

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Poem of the Week: 5/9/25

Mom

My mother passed away in 2020,
soon after her 95th birthday, January 2.

Mom, you were a wonder woman,
Who never got your chance.
Who learned you were with child,
Before your senior class dance.

Dad, who swept you off your feet,
Was a strong and capable guy,
Left high school without finishing,
Over a history teachers lie.

Though you were salutatorian,
In a class of twenty one,
You could not go to college,
With a baby soon to come.

Dad had medically failed,
To go fight the evil Hun.

Worked in a creamery,
Set bowling pins for little mon.

You rented a little shack,
Behind a farmers barn,
With twin babies to care for,
While Dads 22 stopped rats harm.

Soon in a drafty farmhouse,
Huge wood stove for food and heat,
You cooked and canned wonderfully,
Two hungry boys wonderful treat.

Brought us through childhood diseases,
With the skill of a licensed nurse.
And through Dads need for cars,
With a bankers skill with our purse.

Dad was a truck driver most of his life,
Mom, you worked as a cleaning lady,
A shoe factory worker, a waitress,
And school lunch helper, too.

Kept all seven of us from financial strife.

Mom catered large gatherings,
Of family at home and the lake,
Her nature was counsel and nurture,
Sacrificing with more give than take.

With four boys off to college,
Our sister married and safe,
Mom retired with Dad at 57,
Winter Texans off for to take.

Twenty years of golf, cards and bowling.
Leisure cool summers at the lake,
Famous for your baked bread,
Good times you would partake.

You wrote thousands of letters,
In your impeccable cursive style,
Communicator between family and friends,
From snail mail, to email with wile.

You were by Dads side for four months,
As he struggled with a hospital bug,
Gradually lost his resolve, benefits and died.
Alone, soldiered on in your apartment, snug.

Six years later, three mini-strokes came,
Aphasia and loss of hearing was not her blame,
Moms last five years were nothing but pain,
So, your death was a blessing when it came.

rwh 5/8/25

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Poem of the Week: 5/2/25

Remembering Times

There were times in my life,
That were so unique,
Their memory is sharp,
And to me they still speak.

Of the good times that came,
And the good times that went.
Serendipity that brought them,
So magically sent.

Encountering great people,
Without any effort or attempt.
Just coming upon them,
As I came and I went.

Through a life that was so varied,
That I have to recall and relate.
Every adventure I remember,
Before it becomes too late.

rwh 5/1/25

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Poem of the Week: 4/26/25

Cannot Deny

The first time I saw you,
And our eyes met.
I knew we would be together,
And yet.

It took some time alone,
Before we could not deny,
That we belonged together,
Like earth belongs to sky.

Thick and thin we have journeyed,
But somehow, weathered all.
For there is no force in nature,
Greater than loves call.

And when our lives are over,
And all is said and done,
We cannot deny the pleasure,
Gained in this lifes last run.

rwh 4/17/25

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Poem of the Week: 4/11/25

Gadgets

I am finding them often more of a nuisance than helpful.

Gadgets, widgets, apps and more,
Are cluttering our lives like never before.
No hope in decreasing their influence,
Creeping into neural niches more and more.

Running our lives from their store,
Always with new upgrades to the fore.
It is getting harder to keep up,
Changes hard to keep score.

If we call on AI to help us out,
We realize dumb AI has no clout.
It takes another human to figure it out,
By that time, we began to doubt.

If these gadgets are worth the price,
Then why are they acting not nice?
Why are they always requiring upgrade?
Seeking to find more profit made?

Gadgets will always be with us,
As long as we live and fuss.
But gadgets are not going away,
Unfortunately, they are here to stay.

rwh 4/10/25

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Poem of the Week: 4/4/25

Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac

You never found a finer couple,
Together for over 90 years.
Helping folks with housing,
Always with sympathetic ears.

Worked to get immigrants housed,
Off the street and into homes,
Tax paying citizens all with,
Good jobs and meat on their bones.

Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac,
Were a couple with a knack,
And way back, in the sack,
There was federal money,
for the American dream.

Along came Trump and Musk,
Coveting the couple's success.
So, into the Trumpster dumpster,
They went, just more excess.

But deep inside, the people knew,
That Trump and Musk were wrong,
Barking up the wrong tree,
And singing the wrong song.

Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac,
Were a couple with a knack,
And way back, in the sack,
There was federal money,
for the American dream.

When will the people learn,
Trusting liars will never work.
Time to stand up to them, and
Bring Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac back.

Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac,
Were a couple with a knack,
And way back in the sack,
There was federal money,
for the American dream.

rwh 4/4/25

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Poem of the Week: 3/28/25

Perennials

They come back every year,
Though they died in the fall.
Trusting in their seeds alone,
To bring them back at all.

Ground on which they flourish,
Can be barren and bleak.
It's where birds drop them,
Not where they would seek.

Bird droppings with all they need,
To feed their short life.
They come and go quickly,
Avoiding a lot of strife.

Bugs and bees flock to them,
Brief bounty for their growth,
Food for animals and birds,
Seeking food for their youth.

Perennials serve their purpose well,
And color landscapes often bleak.
Bringing cheerful thought to view,
Gone quickly from strength,
not weak.

Without them life would be,
A much blander place.
And a loss to their ecosystem,
With essential saving grace.

rwh 3/27/25

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Poem of the Week: 3/21/25

Over Taxes

Dying to pay our taxes,
This time of year.

But why is it the taxman,
That we seem to fear?

It is all about the refund,
They Will tell you up front,
you overpaid your taxes,
While working like a grunt.

They do not grant refunds,
For taxes unpaid,
Come after you mightily,
For a criminal upgrade.

We all lie on our taxes,
Just a little bit.
But when we get caught,
We say, Joe did it.

But relax, taxpayers all,
This year, tax auditors are gone.
You will not be audited,
your tax nose will be long.

rwh 3/20/25

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Poem of the Week: 3/14/25

Discover the Light

I searched through the night,
With heightened insight,
To see if I could find,
Some semblance of light.

But all around I found,
Only pessimism and doubt.
Good had been locked out,
In favor of dark clout.

What had we become of,
To think such dark thoughts?
There was good all around us,
Why fixate on our doubts?

So many have just turned off,
Into their dark obsessions,
avoided the truth before them,
failed to learn life lessons.

But the comedians know how,
Not just to get a good laugh,
But to pull back the dark curtain,
and hook them with a gaff.

Gradually, I hope we will,
Began to see the light,
Cast off dark conspiracy,
Return to truth's daylight.

rwh 3/13/25

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Poem of the Week: 3/7/25

Weird Days

Weird days are upon us,
In many strange and new ways.
I guess that can be expected,
As we face these weird days.

Things keep popping in on us,
That we never experienced before,
At least no rude traveling salesman,
Knocking with a smile at our door.

Still, they seem to be in our business,
Whether we are in business or not.
It seems a bit insidious, doesn't it?
Trying to take my hard earned plot.

Just a nosy drone delivering packages,
Looking through our windowpane,
Checking to see if we are home or not,
Also, filming our moves for their gain.

Strange birds have flown our way.
Are they lost or just can't find the day?
What's making them make the change?
Are their lives also being rearranged?

Nothing weirder than the weather,
Day in blizzard, and then, in heather.
So, if you're going to Scarborough Fair,
Be prepared to be flooded while there.

rwh 3/6/25

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Poem of the Week: 2/28/25

Loss

Poets and singers cry of lost loves,
charlatans and ringers coo like doves,
while they take advantage of the loss,
reaping both misery and cost.

Very few of us escape the strain,
of having lost hard earned gain.
But knowing of life ups and downs,
Can bring more smiles than frowns.

Another is losing our sense of trust.
Do we believe it's something that we must.
Something so dear we can't deny,
But lose it anyway and don't know why.

Of all the losses that we might choose,
Perhaps the worst is losing our mind.
Leads me to the question emerging I find,
What possessed them voting this time?

rwh 2/27/25

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Poem of the Week: 2/22/25

AI Assistant

My new AI Assistant arrived today,
I could say I was pleased, in every way.

You see, my life had been stressed enough,
with what the Internet brought and stuff.

I put him to work to remove all my worry,
he said, do not worry, I will take care of it in a hurry.

To my amazement, my worries were all gone,
He did it in about 15 minutes, his price, a song.

So, I sang him a song to his delight,
and he sang it back better than I heard,
the hit singer/songwriter sing it last night.

He told me, Go, vacation the rest of your life.
Free yourself from all that worry, panic and strife.

I said, Thank you, and booked a plane.
Free from all worries and no one to blame.

On an Indian Ocean Island, I checked on my stuff,
It seems my new assistant had acquired my duff.

My identity and stuff were all gone. I did not exist,
I dove into the ocean and sealed the twist.

rwh 2/13/25

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Poem of the Week: 2/14/25

Beh's Song

Good morning, Vietnam!
Happy Valentine's Day!
You know I love you,
Not just for this day,
But for every day,
and for every year,
You help me this way.

From when you get me up from my bed,
Until you put me to sleep, cover my head.
I will always love the way you care,
I will always love the way you dare,
Anyone to love me like you do.

I love you, yes I do,
In good and bad times, too,
While our love remains true.
One last time: I love you, Beh,
Truly, I dooo.

rwh 2/13/25

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Poem of the Week: 2/7/25

Stuff

What is this stuff that collects all around?
Filled with new and old we just found.
Why do we need it to just throw away?
Makes me wonder our sanity we play.

We stuff ourselves with food in reams.
We stuff our clothes ripping their seams.
We stuff our heads with irrational fears.
We stuff our emotions full of tears.

Stuff of memories we long forgot.
Stuff our shelves with little what-not.
Stuff bucket lists with stuff we do not need.
Keeping up with the Joneses we heed.

If you are stuffing yourself right now.
Think of the consequences you plow.
Overindulgence is nothing but stuff.
Will we ever know when enough is enough?

rwh 2/6/25

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Poem of the Week: 2/1/25

Loyalty

Loyalty goes far when there is someone to blame,
It is easy to jump on the latest loyalty train.
Moving up with the speed of a winning game,
Boot licking your way to fortune and fame.

But what goes up must always come down.
As you ride along with a silly smile not a frown.
But when the great leader is a foolish clown,
The circle of life eventually comes round.

And you either jump off that loyalty train,
Or ride to the end, like the last refrain.
Oblivious that greed could not sustain,
Lies about life on a planet of fire and rain.

rwh 1/29/25

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Poem of the Week: 1/24/25

Punch and Judy

Who would have thought they would arrive again,
That loving couple from way back when,
Where children were taught the lessons of man,
Maintaining control of their minions back then.

The Bible taught that Eve was from Adam's rib.
Meant to serve him as his anchor and his jib.
Produce many offspring for his family to grow,
And never retreat from his fame to know.

Like the lords of middle ages controlled their serfs,
The Punch and Judy Show has returned to earth.
If your gender is ever in question by you at all,
Be prepared to accept the edict of their beck and call.

So, all of you who voted for a new era to begin,
Be prepared to take your punishment for joining in.
Where centuries of progress hard fought faced,
Have been, by simple signature, erased.

The Punch and Judy Show is now in full force,
Do not disturb Commander and chief's horse.
Let him fall down from high places in due course,
Pendulum swings back, his voice grows hoarse.

rwh 1/23/25

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Poem of the Week: 1/17/25

Quantum Computing

A new way of computing is coming to the fore,
will make computing far different than before.

Working at the quantum subatomic level,
Will give computing so much upheaval.

We may never view computing the same again,
For it will go where we never thought when.

The universe was young without star forms,
Interiors of atoms were breaking all norms.

Chips with millions of times speed beckon,
What super computers years in a second.

Everyone's guessing who will win the race,
Company that will put the chip into place.

Making our power to explore multiply more,
than we ever could have thought of before.

Opening a new world unthought of to explore.

rwh 1/16/25

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Poem of the Week: 1/10/25

Funeral

There was a funeral today for a great one.
Who could confer with the giants among us.
But never forgot where he came from.
Working alongside the least of us with no fuss.

Humble man of great knowledge and vision.
Honest to the core of his being and action.
His vision proved out over trial and time.
Never letting any barrier from party or faction.

Steer him away from what was right.
with a global understanding what to do.
Bringing the oppressed into the light.
Of freedom from tyranny long overdue.

Defeated by an actor hired by party greed.
Quietly bowed out to begin a new tack.
As a man of the people, so much in need.
He wrote books and filled the void of lack.

Raging in Los Angeles is proof of his claim.
That our wastefulness and greed is a shame.
To persist will render us hopeless and lame.
Must follow his lead or surely lose this game.

rwh 1/9/25

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Poem of the Week: 1/3/25

Tide is Turning

The tide is turning,
I know not which way,
Just that it's turning,
Human nature holds sway.

A new year is dawning,
Whether it be good or bad.
We must roll with the tide,
The only role we've had.

I hope that your future,
Looks as good as mine.
As we raise our glasses,
To that auld lang syne.

rwh 1/2/25

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