Riddle-Poem 3/1/2026

I used to make my wallet fat
By working as a bureaucrat,
Collecting money at my booth
Disinterested in deeper truth.
But then one day I got a call
And simply walked away from it all.
I heard the summons of the Muse
And started spreading the news.

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Riddle-Poem 2/28/2026

With fifty oars and heroes brave
I was the first to cleave the wave,
Plucked from pines on a lofty height.
Mermaids marveled at the sight
And raised their heads above the foam.
I carried golden cargo home
But then was broken into parts
For ease of reading astral charts.

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Riddle-Poem 2/23/2026

Within this doorless room of bronze
No serpents, bulls or shining swans
Appear before my mortal eye.
But there’s a window to the sky
And golden rain is pouring through.
Soon, I’ll be tossed upon the blue
Enclosed together, in a chest,
With a divine child at my breast.

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Riddle-Poem 2/22/2026

Fifty minus one—do the math—
We’re trying to fill a ritual bath
To wash away our mortal sins:
Daggers disguised as neat hairpins
Once filled our husbands’ hearts with holes.
So now, our sad and restless souls,
Whenever we upturn a spout,
Observe no water pouring out.

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Riddle-Poem 2/20/2026

Though he, like me, attended college,
My partner always plays the fool,
While I picked up more practical knowledge
At Cedar Yorpantz Flying School.
We both have patriotic hearts
(As Minnesotans usually do)
And scholarships not based on smarts
But sports... at Wossamotta U.

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Riddle-Poem 2/16/2026

By no unnatural spell or hex
I banish foul and filthy specks
And clear away the evidence
Of entropy and passed events
That slowly settles on the floor.
I send it flying out the door
Or hide it underneath the mat
And, while I’m at it, shoo the cat.

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#father is poetry, #riddlepoems are prose.

Riddle-Poem 1/25/2026

After the Dog begins to boil,
When Earth is cracked and dry,
I make sure that the thirsty soil
Need not look to the sky.
I’m resurrected without fail
Each year… and that is why
The Keepers of the Crook and Flail
Live on after I die.

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Riddle-Poem 1/23/2026

I wield my water, hot and cold,
Against the god of fire, while bold
Swiftfoot performs mass execution.
I’m choked with reddish-brown pollution
For all the death I’m forced to swallow.
I cannot find a course to follow
But I resist the rising tide
By fighting for the Phrygian side.

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Riddle-Poem 1/21/2026

I painted, sculpted, engineered,
Dissected, theorized and steered
The course of art toward that of science.
For both are best when in alliance
And in the hands of men like me
Who cultivate diversity
Of talent, expertise and skill
While taking notes with ink and quill.

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