I take no offense; I make no excuse,
But I wonder if more people would buy
Sonnets invaded by children of Zeus
Than those hinting at Christ. I wonder why

Egyptian/Tibetan Books of the Dead
And Bhagavad Gita don’t get a rise.
The Koran owns the Rubaiyat instead
Of the Holy Bible, considered wise

Though more for poetry, language and plot.
Not rare, as I think of it, just passé.
I live in the scriptures, use them a lot.
I wonder: Am I out of step with today?

It would be great if my sonnets would sell.
Better yet to steer someone clear of hell.

I’m always giving my mailbox the eyes,
Checking my email, waiting by the phone,
Looking for likes, loves, and replies,
Whatever it takes to feel less alone.

Trolls are trying to get a reaction
May be lonely people just trying to see,
If there might be any satisfaction
In being acknowledged. Is that less lonely?

We need to spend less time behind the screen.
The people we meet just might become friends.
It’s time to unmask, big reveal and come clean,
Get out and meet people. Let’s make amends

For wasting our time like birds on a perch.
Here’s a solution: We’ll see you in church.

Them! Yes, all of them! Yes, you know their name!
They always do, always say, never will
Get it right. Lay the blame! They’re all the same!
Yes, them! All of them! It’s a bitter pill.

They’ve got it all wrong! They never do right.
They’re just like those others, just more recent.
They say white is black. They say black is white.
They oppose all that is right and decent.

They’re all taking over! Better watch out!
We’ll soon be outnumbered if we don’t act.
And won’t that be bad? That’s what it’s about.
It’s bad! Getting worse! My friend, that’s a fact!

They battle us, rattle us, make us cuss.
To us “they” is them; to them “they” is us.

Act now! Don’t miss this exciting offer
A fool would pay thousands more for this thing.
But here’s your chance to fill up my coffer
Visit the website. Have a toll-free ring!

How are you living without this device?
Doesn’t your family deserve such as this?
You need this for dicing, for mincing, to slice!
Your spouse will love you and give you a kiss!

But wait! There’s more! For the next ten minutes
We’ll throw in another and you only just pay
For shipping and handling. The benefits
Won’t last, so act now! Order yours today!

Don’t wait and don’t think! Not one second thought!
And soon you’ll be tossing this junk that you bought.

Burrow in the dark, beneath the surface.
We see his mounded trails beneath the grass.
Barely hidden, with trails easy to trace.
We picture him denying, bold and crass:

“Not my trail! You must have snakes! They want me!
Out to get me, ah, but I’m too clever!
They don’t love your yard. They want to haunt me!
Ugly! Wicked! Stupid! Catch me? Never!”

Little backward hands and teeth like razors.
Cute, in his own way, with those squinty eyes.
Goals in mind, if not in sight, like lasers.
Booby trap the yard with holes. Surprise!

He’s been here all along to dig that hole.
You thought he was a snake? He’s just a mole.

Absolutely. Actually. Really.
You know, um, what I mean to say is this.
Honestly, and, uh, I mean, the deal he
Wants to make with you goes beyond a kiss.

And then, you know, he says, oh, never mind.
I mean, he’s like, well, kinda, like they say.
You know, they always say, he’s, well, the kind
Who won’t give up until he gets his way.

It’s like, you know, it’s like, I mean, they all
Think they know, you know, I don’t know, I mean
He’s like, you know, like one of those you call
The cops on. You know. It’s like, well, obscene!

I know, I mean, you know? Yes, I stammer.
I’m guess I’m, like, subtle as a hammer.

My dear Chihuahua never was snippy.
Sugar sweet puppy for about fourteen years.
Growing deaf, slowing down, once so zippy,
Now an old lady. Saving up my tears.

My Chihuahua stays close, encouraging,
Soothing pain, welcoming, cheering sadness.
Not always easy to watch her aging,
Knowing she’s the antidote to madness.

My Chihuahua ought to be four-foot-three,
Tall enough to pat her head while standing.
My Chihuahua, tiny dog, hard to see,
Barely standing six inches commanding

So much love and loyalty. Born to be
My pocket dog. Great Dane of love to me.

I’m a winner when I’m selling myself.
When I’m shopping, poor me; I’m the victim.
Skill, will and bills don’t leave me on the shelf
It just doesn’t make sense that they pick him.

The field isn’t level and life isn’t fair
So it isn’t my fault that I’m losing.
They don’t like my accent, my nose, my hair,
Or the cheap aftershave that I’m using.

It has to be something I can’t control.
It has to be something arbitrary.
It has to be something from deep in that hole
Of a heart, or some grudge that they carry.

It has to be them. It cannot be me.
It’s my turn to win more decidedly.

I would celebrate confidence and pride
But too often it looks like arrogance.
Feels great, I know, when it’s growing inside,
It’s a way to go. It’s a marrow dance.

Once there was a rumble: To be humble
Was considered proper, even godly.
When the mountains crumble we will mumble
Of humility’s ability to sod me.

The problem is we whiz through life with blinders
On and never see the One above us.
Self-satisfied, never seekers, finders
Of the One who sent the Son to love us.

Pride in self? Instead, let’s admire the One
Whose handiwork we are, saved by the Son.

Deep, deep thoughts! Did you ever think of that?
Swimming in profound imagination!
Great Sincerity! Straining at a gnat.
Swallowing the camel of elation.

Deep, deep thinking. Meditate on drinking
Wisdom of the ages from the sages.
Deep, deep thinking while angels are winking
At the meaning we are gleaning from pages

Of the Book where we look to justify
What we think. We want instead to know it.
We know what doesn’t show is just a lie
Unless we spy chapter/verse to show it.

Help me understand the line I swallow
Lest I drown in deep thoughts where I wallow.