by Rick Young | Jan 26, 2017 | Poem
If you look to your right,
you will see much bigger buildings,
some oil wells, large vehicles producing
‘harmless’ emissions, nuclear facilities,
a well-armed police presence, strong displays
of military might, golf courses, tennis courts
and plush homes with gates, pools and dogs.
Now look to your left and see what’s left.
Deteriorating cities and infrastructure,
public transportation, ‘shady’ people
in alleyways looking for drugs and abortions,
military vets out on the streets, homeless
shelters and food kitchens, polluted waters,
crime waves, rogue cops, smog and dogs.
We’ve already got a wall. Front and center.
And even a street named after it.
by Rick Young | Jan 25, 2017 | Poem
Alienation’s trending big time.
The bad boy’s in his house of glass,
throwing shit at everything he sees.
What is the problem, buddy?
You’re the king. And the joker.
Every night he’s got to use the poker.
He’s got the ego of a warship.
The Oh No La Gay !
Atomic strength ticked tax.
He’s dreaming up new facts
for his attacks. He wants us all
to wash his windows for chump change.
But, buddy, we have breaking news for you.
by Rick Young | Jan 20, 2017 | Poem
It’s a scene that’s truly hard to fathom.
Oath of office on those lying lips.
History has turned to science fiction.
Aliens are laughing in their ships.
In his first speech from the seat of power,
will he throw in ads for his hotels?
No one could envision this strange hour.
Something rotten in D.C. now smells.
Will he spew his fake news to the masses?
Will his family have a bridge to sell?
They’re the royals. We can kiss their asses.
Wave the world goodbye. We’re now in hell.
by Rick Young | Jan 19, 2017 | Poem
Crack open all those eggshell eyes
and let the dammed tears flow.
There must be a gallon full
of sorrow.
As a child once said to Shoeless,
"Say it isn’t so."
Our world will change,
not for the best, tomorrow.
Dark clouds are coming in
to hide the blue skies.
The winds of change already
start to blow.
Remember, when you’re asked
to do insane things,
the option’s always open to say no.
by Rick Young | Jan 7, 2017 | Poem
The bets are really big; it’s the last hand.
He needs either the nine of spades or four.
Just as he’s about to ask for one card,
comes a frantic knock upon the door.
"Call the police," he hears a man’s loud voice say,
"Down the street some guy just shot a cop!"
As the others all run out to witness,
he grabs the deck and puts the nine on top.
They’d been playing all night into morning.
It must be now pretty close to noon.
Late October day in Dallas, Texas.
Who could know their lives will change, and soon?
