by Rick Young | Jan 26, 2016 | Poem
Old smoke’s been replaced by vapor.
Cigar’s outmoded as paper.
Cowboys no longer ride horses,
drive their UV’s to golf courses.
No stage robbers, cattle rustlers.
Outlaws now are stock fraud hustlers.
The old west has surely changed.
It’s not wild now, just deranged.
by Rick Young | Jan 25, 2016 | Poem
I knocked when I was holding pairs.
I fell once going up the stairs.
I had a run but no one cares.
The day after cards is annoying,
the images burning and cloying.
My three on your threes.
I’ll take that eight, please.
The king’s on his knees
in the bathroom
and shuffling again.
Did I lose? Damn the booze!
Well, next week
I’ll break even or win.
by Rick Young | Jan 24, 2016 | Poem
Point well taken.
Point well made.
Pointed chin and pointy head.
Match point, set point,
point in time.
Pointed remark.
Pointless rhyme.
Pointer dog and Pointer Sister.
Hey, you, don’t point
at me, mister.
Shaving points
and pointed out.
Point of order!
Hey, don’t shout.
Meeting point of no return.
Points to save
and points to earn.
Laser pointers everywhere.
Next appointment.
See you there.
by Rick Young | Jan 23, 2016 | Poem
We’re protecting the future for children.
Our machines just might be their salvation.
We’ll send tanks to the good revolution
and stealth jets to a prosperous nation.
While the usual weapons byproducts
sometimes color our image as ‘meanie,’
for each parent that’s killed in our battles,
each child gets an industrial beanie.
by Rick Young | Jan 22, 2016 | Poem
The thought bubble is in trouble.
Tracking thinking, lights are blinking.
Auras pass in chilling whiffs of time.
Put the nation on vacation.
Inner vision rots in prison.
Best to quell the thoughtful, praise the crime.