Thursday, February 26, 2015

The Turtle and the Hare

Gov. Walker and the State Worker
by Jim Rapp

Our dear Governor
a wee little man –
degreeless and clueless –
thinks that he can

serve his rich clients better
by trashing state workers
whose labor supports us all;
calling them grubbers and shirkers.

Well here is a video
that clearly shows
a state worker whose day,
beginning at dawn’s first glow,

and running twenty-four seven –
not running for office, oh no;
that is our Governor’s full-time job
outpaces a Gov whom we know is all blow.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Can You Walk A Mile In Their Shoes?

by Jim Rapp

Sixteen alleged felons
handcuffed to a cord
meekly trailing
through the door.

Sixteen “public servants”
petty criminals
building inspectors
bribe takers all.

Sixteen fearful families
sixteen anguished spouses
unknown children soon
may lose their houses.

Sixteen job openings
only those should apply who
can withstand the pressure
when your feet are in their shoes.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015


by jim rapp

At first he had only
a one-day clock
and when he
thought he was
dying he
begged for
one day more

but he recovered
and soon he
split his day
in half
night and day so
when he was
deathly ill he
asked the doctor
to give him just
one half a day

restored to health
but not content he
split his day again
morning mid-day
evening dusk
mid-night dawn
and as he tossed
in fevered night
he begged to live
till morning

his strength
restored he
set about to
subdivide his
time in hours

adam, where
are you

i am surely at
the brink of death
may i have
just one plank
more of life

that and so
much more,
i have
taken care
of that
have you

Sunday, February 15, 2015

On Being Fat

by Jim Rapp

The biggest problem with fatness
is being fat
and having every looker’s at-ness
aimed we at

Fatties’ love to find another fatter
thinking that
lends cred to what the caveater’s
getting at

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Like It Used To Be

(by Jim Rapp) 

I saw the sun today bright
and golden like it used
to be before the clouds
rolled in obscuring
its golden
beams from me. I saw
the sun today alive and
warming like it used to be

Thursday, February 12, 2015

The Hardest Part

(by Jim Rapp)
Not the loss of pay
his spouse’s rebuke
the public shame
the sneers and barbs
doors permanently closed
not even the disgrace
The hard part
is what he sees
in his children’s eyes -
"Dad, you didn’t!"

Harder Still
if they simply shrug
and turn away

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Generous George

(A Haiku)
by Jim Rapp
My friend George would like
to be seen as generous
but it costs so much.

Sunday, February 8, 2015

The Rich Will Always Be With Us

by Jim Rapp

When it was said
“The poor you will
always have with you,”
it wasn’t intended as
a mandate;
rather a recognition that,
human nature being what it is,
we will also always have
the predatory rich with us,
grinding the face of the poor,
begrudging even the crumbs
that fall to them from the
gluttons’ over-laden tables.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Three Boys and a Homemade Football

by Jim Rapp

Three boys and a homemade football;
a bicycle tire folded back and forth,
tied with a cord;
you’d better catch it clean
or your hands will pay a price

Three boys and a homemade football;
it’s against the folk’s religion
to go three blocks
to watch the local baseball team
play on Sunday afternoon

Three boys and a homemade football;
grinding out play after play;
no opposition
until the Burns boys
come out to play

Six boys and a homemade football;
street warriors playing on
dirt, then gravel,
then tar, and finally
the big time – blacktop

Six boys and a homemade football
called to the sidelines
to hear the news:
the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor;
gonna need some boys

Four boys and a store-bought football
veteran stars of the Road Bowl;
drop back pass
throw the bomb to Nagasaki –
touchdown – game over

Friday, February 6, 2015

Waiting for the Healing

by Jim Rapp
The joy of being together
is tempered by
the sadness of parting.

Gautama identified the author
of sadness as “desire”;
we might say, “love”.

Love: the source of a rent,
dealt at parting,
that love alone can heal.

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

The Wounds of War

by Jim Rapp

Why do I keep it in that little vial
the doctor placed it in;
a pristine point of pencil lead
removed from my arm?

Donald and I remember it differently;
he that a mentally challenged
neighbor girl put it there;
I, assured it was an angry classmate.

I trust Donald’s memory more than mine;
he is a year and a half older,
not that that matters much now that
he is eighty and I am seventy-eight,

but when it happened he was
perhaps five or six
and I a mere three or four;
his testimony weighs more than mine.

And there it lay buried
for more than fifty years raising
only a small but sensitive bump
on my arm just below the elbow.

So when its time came to fester
Dr. Spitz deftly dug it out, laid it
on a napkin, and we examined it;
a missile, hidden since before the war.

I didn’t fight in WWII but I bore
a wound from a since-forgotten struggle
between ignorance and innocence
that lay fallow many years, then festered.

Why do I keep it in that little vial
the doctor placed it in;
a pristine point of pencil lead
removed from my arm?

Sunday, February 1, 2015

my church

by Jim Rapp

though I have in its dearth
a tool of politics equated
and declared it dead

it even now goes forth
gospel-living – sinner populated
and by peasants led