Our Country's Leaders

Our country’s leaders are but feeders on our contributions,
Though they care nothing about our problem’s solutions.
Their aim is just a useless game of their own creation,
Instead of a sincere attempt to maintain the health of our nation.

Even worse, this meaningless chicanery they love to employ
Is at the expense of the masses they’re sure to destroy.
Our country’s leaders are nothing more than puppets of the rich,
Without whose direction they would never be able to switch.

Vain and inept leaders continue to ignore the majority voice
In favor of their individual egos and political party choice.
So sadly each day the common man has less representation
And one day will strike back at his leaders in hopeless frustration.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Alone in the Crowd

Though people surround me, I feel alone.
As if on an island all on my own.
I hear them talk, but they’re not speaking to me.
They’re using language of another country.

Their interests are different and ideas strange.
I try to get close, but feel out of range.
Their worlds are full and always busy.
When they look my way, there’s nothing they see.

Alone in the crowd I make no difference at all.
No one really cares whether I rise or fall.
Others are too occupied with worlds of their own
To listen to my complaints as I grumble and groan.

So I’ll fashion a world that only suits me.
I’ll become the one that they’re straining to see;
That new person whose glowing face and mind
Triumphs in the world I alone have designed.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Pearl, Merle and Earl

Pearl, Merle and Earl are an unlikely crew…
The two girls are 87; the ol’ man 92.
They say they live alone, but hardly true
Their cavalcade of caretakers is always in view.

There’s the day nurse and night nurse
And the two for weekends.
Then the stock boy who buys the food
And a healthy dose of Depends.

Pearl, Merle and Earl can still get around
With jaunts getting shorter with less of a sound.
They love everybody, but one thing all hate;
Why can’t folks keep their simple names straight?

“I’m Pearl with one “e” not at the end of my name.
“I’m Merle with two “e’s”, but pronounced the same.”
“It’s Earl. My one “E” is a capital letter at the start.”
This spry crew will tug at the strings of your heart.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Is You is or is You Ain't?

When Washington crossed the Delaware
His dear grand mummy made him swear
To beat those redcoats without restraint.
She said “Is you is or is you ain’t? ”

Now George kinda worried ‘bout the things he’d done.
There were all those bloody battles that he’d won.
He hadn’t always been exactly a saint
But then there was “Is you is or is you? ”

So off he rode into the heat of battle.
Suddenly a cannon ball yanked him from his saddle. When he felt the bump on his head he wanted to faint,
He couldn’t cause there was “Is you is or is you ain’t? ”

Now as the war was turning in favor of George,
He met an old enemy from Valley Forge.
He rode up to him and without restraint,
Said, “Was you is…but now you ain’t! ”

poem by Gregory Huyette
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A Rare Happy Birthday

Have you ever met someone you are always comfortable around,
Whether he is roaring with laughter or not uttering a single sound…
Someone who asks how you are, and remembers what you say;
Then wants to know more about what you mentioned a previous day?

Someone who inquires about your family and you know that he cares,
In spite of his many friends and all those important business affairs.
More interested in hearing of your life than talking about his own;
He is, indeed, one of the rarest people I have ever known.

I am honored to be among one of your friends,
And today each of us assembled from deep in our heart sends
The warmest of Happy Birthdays filled with love and cheer.
We are proud to have a friend like you and grateful to be here!

poem by Gregory Huyette
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This Poet's Responsibility

When I’m inspired I’m but an observer,
Enthralled and encompassed in a mosaic of fervor.
The ideas are finished and I’m but a scribe,
Laboring for understanding as each word I imbibe.

So often after a work is recorded,
I read it to comprehend what was reported.
Most surprising of all is that after my screening,
I’ve transcribed words without knowing their meaning.

Themes are random and messages mixed.
Their origin unknown since I remain transfixed
As I record them without any rhyme or reason.
To do less would be intellectual treason.

I’m grateful I received this precious gift.
I know I must give others a lift
By passing on these messages from somewhere above.
Like life, problems are transient, so be happy through love.

[...] Read more

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Happy Birthday

Have you ever met someone you are always comfortable around,
Whether he is roaring with laughter or not uttering a single sound…
Someone who asks how you are, and remembers what you say;
Then wants to know more about what you mentioned a previous day?

Someone who inquires about your family and you know that he cares,
In spite of his many friends and all those important business affairs.
More interested in hearing of your life than talking about his own;
He is, indeed, one of the rarest people I have ever known.

I am honored to be among one of your friends,
And today each of us assembled from deep in our heart sends
The warmest of Happy Birthdays filled with love and cheer.
We are proud to have a friend like you and grateful to be here!

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Thank You Dear Mom

How can I thank you for all you've done?
No doubt I'm the luckiest son
Who ever walked on the face of the earth.
You've shown me love and what I'm worth.

All that I am I owe to you
Who guided me gently when all was new.
Seven up and a glass straw when I wasn't well.
Your bandage and a kiss whenever I fell.
Your great cooking deserves the world's first prize.
Especially those cookies and homemade french fries.

I remember your tears, mostly of joy.
My eyes are now moist as your little boy
Is still learning to give as you taught me to.
I'm at peace with the world because of you.

You're beautiful in all ways as all can see.
You're everything any mother ever could be.
Every day I think of you and say gratefully,

[...] Read more

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Another American Civil War

The rich are becoming richer than ever before
As the middle class is left expiring in its own gore.

Each day prices rise as people's confidence falls,
But wealthy are too busy to hear their desperate calls.

Rich are counting all the new money they're gaining
And can't believe that there's anyone complaining.

Like Medieval Times they live in castles behind walls,
Shielding them from the increasingly frantic calls.

As with their ancestors greed is the order of the day.
They have no interest in a poorer class with little say.

Only when downtrodden rise and demand their rights
Will walls fall and rich feel the pain of people's plights.

History is replete with middles classes becoming poor
Until they refuse to be ruled by the rich and declare war!

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Happiness vs Sadness

Like boxers, they must compete every time they hear the bell.
Each one will take and give jabs, dancing round the ring well.
Happiness rules the early rounds, then sadness leaves its mark.
Mid way through the prize fight, things will look stark
For the boxer whose condition isn’t wrought from early days
When mind and matter most respond to influential ways.
The negative of sadness can be a lethal left cross
With its “don’ts” and “cant’s” and “won’t’s”, it guarantees a lasting loss.
But happiness breeds confidence and always keeps in sight
The weaknesses of the opponent and the reason for this fight.
The knock out punch for sadness is unconditional, selfless love
Which will triumph every time without even raising a boxer’s glove.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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