by Rick Young | May 23, 2022 | Poem
Bob Dylan’s eighty-one today.
A man who has a lot to say.
In Hibbing, where the poet grew,
was raised up Roger Maris, too.
The gopher city we must hail
also bred Kevin McHale.
But Bob became a restless beast,
took his guitar, headed east.
When Bob showed up in NYC,
the Village scene made history.
Folk and jazz and honky tonk.
Honk if you like Dave Van Ronk.
Later, when he electrified,
some thought his career had died.
But he wrote five hundred songs.
Some are even sing-alongs.
Many anthems of our ages
are found in his lyrics pages.
No singer’s been this exciting.
Won the Nobel Prize for writing.
Maintains his air of mystery,
even after age eighty.
Happy birthday, Mighty Bob.
You’ve done one hell of a job.
by Rick Young | Apr 30, 2022 | Poem
The last day of “the cruelest month,”
and still the war drags on.
Our super hero smells like Musk,
new Twitter Lord, Elon.
Meanwhile, in Colorado,
there’s a man who’s caught bird flu.
And at a California beach,
coyotes swim with you.
Boris Becker’s gone to jail
for bankruptcy deceit.
Suicide by U.S. sailors
has gone on repeat.
M.T. Greene’s “no recollection”
rings a warning bell.
If the right is not contained,
this country goes to hell.
Maybe May might change the tide,
but odds are pretty thin.
Fate has dubbed November
as our final chance to win.
Perhaps the summer weather
could perform some turnabout,
or else create more fires
that no water can put out.
by Rick Young | Apr 1, 2022 | Poem
Who’ll be the April fool?
Someone we thought was cool?
Someone who wages war?
Someone whose face is sore?
April fools thrive on showers,
don’t even care for flowers,
may have sought insurrection,
acted without reflection.
April fools think ‘play ball’
means hear the master’s call.
April fools will never say
what happened on that day,
hoping it goes away
any time short of May.
by Rick Young | Mar 25, 2022 | Poem
Judge Clarence Thomas has a big lie pushing wife.
This distraction has to matter, ’cause he serves for life.
The fact she’s for guns and against abortion
could mean he faces bouts of thought distortion.
It’s found she went to the pre-riot rally
and signed on to the fake election tally.
Can one imagine that her husband might
be swayed by her attachment to the right?
Should he be recused from some court decisions
which blatantly involve left-right divisions?
It’s hard to leave one’s private life at home
to change one’s thinking in the D.C. dome.
by Rick Young | Mar 3, 2022 | Poem
When Putin’s in his combat zone,
he’ll take on the whole world alone.
It doesn’t matter what the cost.
He’ll keep on ’til the world is lost.
Ukraine has him very vexed.
Poland knows it could be next.
A million refugees have fled,
husbands left behind for dead.
They’ll give an heroic fight,
but Russia has all the might.
There are tanks in Ukraine streets.
Night time bombs provide the beats.
If we dare to interfere,
Putin’s red button is near.
Nukes he’s put on high alert
could create a world of hurt.
Maybe even world war three.
Say goodbye, humanity.
by Rick Young | Mar 1, 2022 | Poem
The state of the union is in pain,
and not just because Russia’s in Ukraine.
We still have citizens in great division,
with not much more on both sides than derision.
It seems that since the president’s election,
the right’s taken to madness and objection.
The government is locked in this stalemate,
and crossing lines untaps a spate of hate.
There’s some who still take their advice from Q,
and hate groups who’d be happy with a coup.
Just a simple infrastructure bill
triggered animus upon the hill.
And now, with Putin’s mentioning of nukes,
the patriots must rail against the kooks.
There’s even those who side with Russia still.
The right wing media’s a rumor mill.
And if the newest Justice is approved,
it means heaven and hell had to be moved.
Just saying that our union’s state is dire
steps foot into political crossfire.
The next election cycle could just tear this land apart.
The present state of union needs a definite kick start.
