Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Judgment Day


The devil led the motorcade
Before Saint Peter’s post,
And said, “Another, I’m afraid,
Of those who claim artistic trade
Has given up the ghost.”

“And should the hearing now be held
To see if he ascends?
Or should we say he has upheld
The modern view and be propelled
To hell with all his friends?”

Saint Peter scratched his bearded chin
And said, “Lay out your case.
For even men who reek of sin
Deserve a final chance to win
The Master’s warm embrace.”

The devil nodded his assent,
And ushered in his tale:
“Old Barton was the type of gent
Who let the state supply his rent,
And lived from sale to sale.”

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Epitaph on the Politician


Original verse by Hilaire Belloc
Here, richly, with ridiculous display
The Politician’s corpse was laid away.
While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged
I wept: for I had longed to see him hanged.

The Barney Frank Edition
While some may laugh and others sing
And howl with excitement,
The news does me no pleasure bring:
I’d hoped for his indictment.

But even so I’ll miss the lad
Who frequently provided
The perfect picture of a cad
That ought to be derided.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Market Madness


The government has long success
In making markets all a mess,
And nowhere else can this be seen
As well as making power green.

The subsidies with which they toy
Distort the market and destroy
The competent delivery
Of kilowatts for you and me.

But even that could not succeed
If government had not decreed
A moratorium to kill
The opportunity to drill.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Week 12

The Bard is basking in the glow
That only perfect pickers know,
For in his picks one week ago,
The Bard compiled three and oh.

At twenty-one and nine this year
The Bard is drinking Irish beer,
And looking on the world with cheer;
Let’s hope his luck can persevere.

The Jets are now on life support;
Their trip to Denver came up short.
Their team is bad, but even so,
They’ll take a stick to Buffalo.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Convalescence

The family has convened;
The carcass has been cleaned.
The Bard must convalesce
Because, he must confess,
To eating past excess.

He plans to hibernate
Until the added weight
In which he is encased,
About his massive waist,
Has been at last erased.

Although the Bard is deep
Into his twilight sleep,
His lovely wife predicts
A rapid three-day fix,  
And Sunday football picks.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Happy Thanksgiving!

With all the trouble in the world,
With all the war and strife,
We ought to thank the Lord today
For liberty and life.

For even when affliction spreads
We ought to understand,
Our bountiful and loving God
Sustains us by His hand.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Portal


Some mornings when I bolt from sleep
And amble forth to shave,
I lose my focus when I pass
Beneath the architrave
Between the room wherein I groom
And that from whence I came;
I wonder what it is about
That magic open frame?

And when a call for conferencing
Is issued by my boss,
The threshold to his office space
Results in frequent loss
Of what he said before I tread
Across his stately sill;
I wonder if I’ve lost my mind,
Or if I’m deathly ill.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Rage Against the Latrine

A companion to the #Occupy poem penned by Zack de la Rocha, lead singer for Rage Against the Machine

The aroma spills through the city’s veins,
And wafts across the cars and trains.

The hideous stench of the cloud then floats
Across the lips and down the throats
Of those with jobs at daily wage
Who have matured and act their age.

They see the barren factories
That felt the regulation squeeze,
And shuttered due to countless rules
Imposed by simple-minded fools.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Drowning in Bureaucracy


The Lord turned water into wine,
As per his Mother’s plea,
But nothing changes nature’s plan
Quite like bureaucracy.

For though the Lord has trod upon
The Sea of Galilee,
He did not change the water’s role –
Or man’s biology.

For that we need the team of men
From Parma, Italy,
Who want to fashion for the world
A new ontology.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Week 11

Again! Last week’s results were mixed,
With two and one the score;
The Bard will need to find a way
To beat his heretofore.

For even though he does not bet,
His goal is to acquire
Another perfect week of picks,
To push his ranking higher.

Detroit is on a losing streak;
They’ve lost now three of four.
But they should beat the Panther team,
And right themselves once more.

Friday, November 18, 2011

The Imposter


According to the FBI,
If as to weight or height you lie,
You’ll find yourself in jail.

As five and twenty years ago
The Congress said such to and fro
Was far beyond the pale.

They passed a law so deeply flawed
That those who fib are charged with fraud,
So justice may prevail.

Which leaves me needing to discard
My sobriquet, the Murdock Bard,
And pull away the veil.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Void of Space


The women and the men that serve
Our country, active and reserve,
Should have the option to refuse
To pray with those who share their views.

So welcome, please, onto the base
Our newest chaplain: Hilbert Space.
For those who do not claim a creed,
Or worship nothing, Space will lead.

His job is to officiate,
As one who represents the state,
At celebrations of the sort
Where nonbelievers need support.

We think that atheists will find
In Hilbert Space, an open mind,
Devoid of any faith motif,
And non-theistic in belief.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Lazy


I’m fainéant, I’m indolent,
I’m otiose and slow:
According to the President,
It started long ago.

I’m futile and superfluous,
A shiftless kind of guy;
I often marvel at the way
I manage to get by.

But when I’m called a lazybones
By people who are paid
Their salary from my weekly check,
I feel downright betrayed.

For even though I do not golf
A dozen rounds a week,
I often exercise a bit,
Despite his harsh critique.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Palette Adjustment


Young Richard (Ricky) Wilbur Dietz
Would not obey, concerning treats.
His palette was by candy formed,
And Ricky could not be reformed.

His parents threatened and cajoled,
But Ricky’s taste would not remold
Into a palette more refined,
To fruits and vegetables inclined.

For almost thirty-seven weeks
His parents tried to feed him leeks
Before he could enjoy dessert,
But they could not their son convert.

For after dinner he would steal
Into the pantry for a meal
Of chocolate chips and little cakes,
And pints of butter-almond shakes.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Investment Advice


As a financial genius I offer advice
To stockholders large and small.
My counsel is constantly clear and precise,
And bolsters the profits of all.

I’ve dabbled in markets and dabbled in stocks,
And dabbled in arbitrage;
In credit default swaps, a Pandora’s box,
I saw a financial mirage.

With a market awareness that hasn’t been matched
By copycats in the trade,
Competitors find themselves quickly dispatched,
When money is ripe to be made.

With my decades of research and God-given brains,
I’ve stumbled upon a way,
To bypass the market, with all of its chains,
And keep all my bankers at bay.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Week 10

The Bard remained consistent
At two and one again;
He might have reached perfection,
But Pittsburgh didn’t win.

But now the Bard is nervous,
For this weeks’ games are tough:
He might just have an o-fer,
If he’s not up to snuff.

The Patriots and Jets will clash
Again on Jersey’s shore;
I’ll roll the dice and pick the Jets
To win the second war.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Wait, I Can Wait


Obama’s in a frenzied state
Because he just can’t wait,
To shovel money out for jobs,
To city, town and state.

He couldn’t wait to change the rules
Regarding student loans,
And with the shortages of drugs
He finally made his bones.

And just three years into his term
He’s brought his cutting axe
To stop the purchasing of mugs,
Of clothing, pens and plaques.

Executive activity
Is what he’s all about,
And if the Congress won’t agree,
He’ll tack a different route.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Emergency Alert System


At 2 PM the government
Performed a little test.
It hijacked TV, radio,
And cable by request.

The test went off without a hitch,
Just as they said it would,
Aside from minor glitches which
Have been misunderstood.

’Twas not a gagging sound dispersed,
As some have made the claim;
’Twas Lady Gaga in full throat,
With hair and clothes aflame.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Audacity of Puppetry


When #Occupy took o’er the town
I had the chance to hear
The sordid, sorry woeful tale
Of Joe the puppeteer.

It seems poor Joe was sickened by
Bureaucracy and waste,
That had beset the public school
In which he first was placed.

So Joe left for Connecticut
To get a new degree;
Our dauntless drama-teaching lad
Would study puppetry!

And after more than thirty grand
Of student loans in hand,
Our Master of the puppet field
Had reached the Promised Land.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Incomplete Data


From latest of Gallup statistics
On church-going characteristics:
     The Democrat crew
     Has many more few
Who claim they are born-again mystics.

The measure of those who are pious
Intrinsically suffers from bias,
     For membership in
     A union, is kin
To praying with Luther or Pius.

It seems that the union exclusion,
Might render the foregone conclusion
     That gods of the left
     Are lacking in heft,
With congregants caught in delusion.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Values Clarification


We can’t tell good from bad;
Discriminate we won’t,
Opinions have we not;
We’d like to, but we don’t.

A kiss is just a kiss
And has no place at school.
We shan’t allow the tikes
To break the kissing rule.

And hugging in the hall?
Who knows what kids will do?
It’s really too complex,
And wins suspension too.

Those furtive dirty looks,
Are not much different than
An ordinary glance;
Add looking to the ban.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Week 9

Last week the Bard rebounded,
And scored at two and one;
The Steelers team confounded
The Bard again, and won.

But with a winning ledger
The Bard is feeling smug;
This week a smile crept again
Across his ugly mug.

The Jets have been a mystery
To me all season long,
But they should handle Buffalo;
The off-week made them strong.

Friday, November 4, 2011

Rule of Law


I didn’t send my taxes in;
I ended up in jail.
Thank heaven for my relatives,
Who ponied up the bail.

I took away a lesson learned:
That one should never fail,
To read the letter of the law,
Or face a sheriff’s sale.

But now I hear that HHS
Has failed to follow through
On eighteen of the thirty dates
The law laid in its queue.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Shouldn’t Feel a Thing


With every new transaction,
By beggar or by king,
We’ll take a little fraction –
You shouldn’t feel a thing.

This very slight extraction
Is like a wallet ping,
A Lilliputian action –
You shouldn’t feel a thing.

It’s more of a distraction,
This whisper of a sting,
Which calls for no reaction –
You shouldn’t feel a thing.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

The Fort of Last Resort


Obama flashed his magic pen
And conjured up today,
Three-thousand jobs in search of men
At Fort Monroe, VA.

When naming it a monument,
The president observed,
From major new development
The site will be preserved.

For when has new development
Enhanced employment rates,
When private dollars have been spent
Within the several states?

Much better to preserve the site
By federal decree,
And hope the planners have been right –
And tourists will agree.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Another Federal Fix


I sold my soul to scientists
And government decrees,
To save the years I have in life
From hunger and disease.

I could not trust my fellow man,
Nor trust the marketplace,
For I could never quantify
Economies or grace.

Instead, I worshiped at the shrine
We know as FDA,
And bowed to pious bureaucrats
Who dither and delay.

They wrote commandments by the score
To regulate the use
Of every drug and treatment plan
The market could produce.