I come to you with humble thanks for all that you’ve delivered,
For Englishmen to walk the planks and for timbers left unshivered.
I thank you for a glassy sea and the steady blowing breeze,
For giving all these things to me without making me say please.
And I thank you for the horizon where sea and sky do meet,
For every new sun that I watch risin’ is a day of fate I’ll cheat.
It is my hope dear loving Lord that I can bring you pleasure,
By throwing someone overboard and stealing all their treasure.
And when I navigate at night you send the northern star,
I feel then that I’m alright and it’s to you that I’ll say ARRR.
There’s a lesson that some people teach about the carrying that you do,
But I knew that the footprints on the beach must have belonged to you.
‘Cause I got a peg and there’s no doubt it would’ve got stuck into the sand.
I couldn’t have pulled myself back out because I got this hook for one hand.
I’d like to see you but by some quirk my good eye got covered by my patch,
I know that I’m just salvage work and it’s you who’ll batten down my hatch.
So Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of rum and raise the Jolly Roger to the sky,
And praise Him from whom blessings come the one who reigns on high.
For I am grateful for the gifts that you have granted me,
A pirate ship that is so swift and the blue green open sea.
My heart was pumping hard that day I faced the maddening crowd,
Despite the spinning in my head I stood there mighty proud.
Though racked with pain my reddened hand acknowledged them a wave
And to this day I've ne'er forgot, the accolades they gave.
It was a dream come true you see to stand there in that ring,
For rodeo was in my blood and one day I'd be king.
The beast I drew was mean and lean ... no Chainsaw I admit,
But still if I could just ride time I'd show them I had grit.
I'd limbered up behind the chute preparing for the ride,
Well knowing what was just ahead, but took it in my stride.
The chute boss called, "You've drawn chute five, get down and make it quick."
Then as I eyed the beast below ... I suddenly felt sick.
That brute it tried to climb the gate and bellowed cries of fear,
While chute hands fought to organise the necessary gear.
I felt the violent quiver of the hide between my chaps,
The smell of sweat, the cry of men ... a change of mind perhaps?
Too late I felt the rope pulled taut and shoved within my glove,
I thought it's now or never mate and sent a prayer above.
Then as I pulled my Colly down I yelled out, "Let him go!"
The gate flew open ... it was on ... 'twas time to rodeo.
With whites of eyes all full of hate that beast did twist and turn,
'Twas obvious my frame aboard was something he did spurn.
Eight seconds on this beast from hell seemed like eternity,
For ev'ry muscle which I owned screamed out in agony.
Between the jars and twists and turns I heard the crowd all cheer,
Then at long last that blessed sound of hooter in my ear.
The pick up man then pulled me clear and was I proud ... not half!
I'll ne'er forget that day old mate I rode that poddy calf.
There's nothing like it after a hard day's work
To ge stuck in traffic behind some jerk
He smiles in his mirror like he's having fun
So I show him my finger because he's number one
Now rush hour moves at such a horrible pace
By the time I get home there's a beard on my face
If this isn't enough to make you hot
I arrive at home and can't find a parking spot
So I park up the street and pick up a nail
If swearing was a crime, I'd be in jail
Then I walk down the street which was freshly tarred
Our neighbor's dog did his duty in our back yard
I finish my dinner and sit down for the night
To watch TV and listen to the kids fight
I look at the ceiling and softly say
A prayer of thanksgiving at the end of the day.
I got out my pipe and stuffed it with pot,
You better believe, it held a whole lot.
I whipped out a lighter and thumbed up a flame,
Then sucked down that smoke which comforts my brain.
I tried alcohol; and smoked cigarettes,
Though, they did nothing, but give me regrets.
My mom had arthritis and couldn't walk around.
When I rolled her a joint, she danced on the ground.
I thought I was losing my lovemaking knack,
But, after I smoked some, to me it came back.
Soon I decided prices were too high,
So I searched for some ground I wouldn't have to buy.
I bargained for seeds from smokers all around,
Then, got in my truck and drove out of town.
I walked through the woods where the wild birds nest,
And found me the meadow I thought was the best.
I dug up the ground and sowed all my seeds;
Then said a small prayer for strong, healthy weeds.
I watered at night with a five-gallon pail;
The mosquitoes went hungry for I wore a veil.
Eight months went by; I thought I would die,
'Till the Halloween moon was high in the sky.
One night I went out, in my camouflage suit,
And used a corn knife to chop down the loot.
I hung it up to dry where it couldn't be found.
Then came back and got it, when it had turned brown.
I trimmed off the buds, and stuffed them in bags,
Called all my friends and passed out free drags.
In less then a week, my crop was gone!
But, I flew to St. Thomas with love-hungry blond.
Mother Superior faced a daunting task,
Like no other in her forty years.
She had prayed it simply wasn’t so,
That Godly intervention might belie her fears.
But sadly, there was no such intervention,
No relief from the duty she did rue.
Despite her hopes and all her prayers,
It had been confirmed. What she feared was true.
So, she gathered all the Sisters after Vespers.
The impromptu meeting caused quite a stir.
There was murmuring as they filed into the chapel.
She hesitated for a moment... but no, she was sure.
“Sisters, I asked you all here to share some news.
It’s something I never thought I’d have to say.
We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent.”
Mary Catherine, a Sister for sixty years, said,
“Oh, thank God. I’m so tired of Chardonnay.”
Dear God, please give me a little brother
I want to be a big brother
Dear God, tell my father and mother
I`m going to be a kind and good big brother
Dear God, give me a little brother
He can get my three-wheeled bicycle
I`ll teach him to ride
Dear God, you must not forget
then I will need a new bike
Dear God, it must be blue with yellow stripes
Dear God, please think about this now
My best friend got a new bike yesterday
Dear God, this prayer comes from John, five years
living in the white house on the corner
Amen and good night Dear God
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- Thank you for my 2nd place in the contest -
I am led by desire
I desire this
I desire that
I desire everything
that all my friends’
have and desire
someone else has and desires it
I know I have no use
for most of it
but I must have it
I desire life
but not death
for the fear of it
I desire life because
most my friends have it and want it
and fear death because
most of my friends fear it
when I am dead
maybe I will desire nothing
because all my dead friends
will most likely desire nothing
we will most likely have no use
for any of it
what will become of it?
Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing
Sometimes they start snowballing
Outside the snow is falling
“Dinner is served”, their Mom is calling
The children don’t hear what she’s saying
Outside the snow is falling
The children are sleighing!
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
Don’t worry now child
There's no god, so worship space
You are not alone.
Oh Lord,forgive the arresting officer
who first caught me when I committed crime__
for destroying my future.
Again,I pray to blindfold the inspector of police__
that He may order police officers to delete my
picture and name from the 'wanted persons list'__
Also, make lazy police officers assigned to arrest
me from my hiding place__
Jail changed my life!
*Dedicated to hardcore Jailbirds
Dear Lord, we gather this day to give thanks for what we’ve got,
For the blessings that you’ve granted us whether realized or not.
For the blessings of family love and our feelings for each other,
Even though I will confess to you that I can’t stand my little brother.
He never does his fair share when there’s work around here to do,
I’ll get back to that situation later and fill the details in for you.
I love you Lord for all the gifts; excuse me if I should gush,
I’m only asking for a bicycle today to avoid the Christmas rush.
I’d like to add a special thanks for giving me a second chance,
For softening up my teacher’s heart, I’m thanking you in advance.
And dear Lord if you don’t mind as long as I have you on the line,
I’m sure that you’ll forgive me Lord because I know that you’re divine.
I’d like to ask for one thing more before I let you of the hook,
Next year before Thanksgiving comes, could you teach my mom to cook?
Because her gravy is too lumpy and the turkey is way too dry,
And the only dessert that we have today is store bought pumpkin pie.
It would be nice if later we didn’t have to hear my grandpa snore,
And keep grandma from drinking wine until she can’t get up from the floor.
And watch over my big sis when she’s out with her boyfriend,
Dad is sure that they’re doing it so why should we pretend?
I guess that’s all I have right now so Lord please be on your way,
And when you’re at the neighbor’s house don’t believe a word they say.
In case you don’t hear from me again if I should disappear without a trace,
I want to say just what a privilege it was to offer up Thanksgiving Grace.
As I ride this open range I’d like to thank the Honcho in the sky,
For bushwhack beans and jerky with a wedge of Huckleberry pie.
For the lonesome sound of the whistle from a far off distant train,
And the sweet smell of the sagebrush right after a springtime rain.
And thank you for the saloon girl, she loves me I’ve been told,
I know that she surely must because she’s got a heart of gold.
I’d like to say thanks for my spurs that jingle when I walk,
And for my chewin’ tobacco that splatters when I talk.
Thank you Lord for sending me these cowboys that I can trust,
To help me watch over the cattle cause out here that’s a must.
And thank you for the prairies and a land that is so wide,
I can find my solitude knowing that from you I’ll never hide.
I thank you Lord for all your blessings that you’ve granted me,
And thank you for my life because a cowboy is what I chose to be.
I do not know?
We do give thee thanks for the abundance
That is ours in glorious nudity
Even though some of it is saline
And some with silicon
Bless each and every one
Tell your mind what your body
They wanna be you, they wanna be just like you
Because right now, you are the sexiest
Woman on God’s green Earth
NOTE: This piece is NOT about pornography, it is a satire, a humorous jab at
Please enjoy with this in mind or skip over it completely Thank you
Good Lord, Mama Mantis creeps
up behind and takes a nip
that stings sharp before I fall,
Fakeout! I still have my teeth
and I hear the words, "Bite me!
Wanting to give her a nip,
Alexa B.'s bit!
*Entry for Linda’s “Bite Me” contest.
written by Carolyn Devonshire
Every time I take a step,
I end up falling down.
Legs flying throw the air,
Making me look like a clown.
Though if I jump up in the sky,
Holding a simple prayer in my mind.
Only to land on my behind!:-)
prey of the day - frog
pleased mantis licks spiny hands. . .
that was delicious
They were nearing LaGuardia Airport when the pilot felt a sudden urge.
He told the copilot to grab the yoke saying his bladder he must purge!
He left the cockpit and wended his way to the lavatory in the rear.
Thus, a series of events unfolded, some of which remain quite unclear!
Things 'flowed' along nicely until the pilot attempted to exit the john!
Alas, the door was jammed and he mused, "Is someone putting me on?"
When he tried to escape from his predicament he discovered a catch;
He was alarmed to find that the doggone door had a defective latch!
In the cockpit the copilot was growing very uneasy about their plight.
The tower called to say they were 50 miles out and were cleared to alight!
To add to his consternation, some jerk was pounding on the cockpit door,
Yelling with a foreign accent - a serious situation he dare not ignore!
The tower operator, just to be certain there would be no later regrets,
Wisely called the Air Force and they alerted a squadron of their jets!
The copilot proffered a prayer saying, "Lord, have mercy on us please!
Help, Lord! Landing this bird alone will test my fortitude and expertise!"
In the meantime good Samaritans helped the pilot to escape his cell!
He scampered to the cockpit to take charge and all turned out well!
This mortifying escapade will be long remembered in airline lore,
About the pilot whose wings were clipped by a faulty lavatory door!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
(Based on an actual incident that occured on a flight from Asheville, NC
to LaGuardia Airport, 16 Nov 2011. Written with just a tad of embel-
12 o'clock... 12 o'clock... 12 o'clock!
How does one set the damn clock
Had to put a sheet on my new clock radio
To get the damn flashing to stop
Thought I was smart, quite intelligent
But technology has me all bamboozled
Tried reading the manual that comes with the unit
To comprehend, from my brain came refusal
My smart ass ten year old nephew came by
"Not a problem dear uncle, I'll fix it"
A minute and a half later, the damn flashing stopped
Felt dorkish and kind of a twit
My fervent prayer which I offer without malice
That technology buries this young geek
In a deluge of bits and bytes and firewalls
Till no longer he can get a night's sleep!
© Jack Ellison 2012
Christmas comes just once a year
And that should be a blessing,
It’s not the birth of Christ I fear,
It’s the shopping that’s so depressing.
They now fire off starting guns,
To start the spending is their goal.
But the news stories that the TV runs,
Report the shopping day’s death toll.
It seems the shoppers who wait up front
In these times of greed,
In order to get the gifts they want
Are willing to make you bleed.
So say a prayer and get out of the way
For it’s civility that we clearly lack,
We used to call this “Shopper’s Friday,”
But you see now why it’s called black.
I do not know?
“Country Christmas Carol” --- dedicated to my family
by Miriam McCue (creator of flamingo art, & poetry.so far.)
We love to sing Christmas songs,
My Grandson Bubba and I.
And when we sing Country Christmas.
We almost make the angels cry.
A Merry Country Christmas
To all those great Country Folk,
And even to the City Slickers,
Who also love to drink and smoke.
We’ll take a drink for Bubba, Aunt Mike and Cousin Jim,
And hope that this Christmas,
They’ll say a prayer and sing a hymn.
Gather round the still,
Country People all.
And hold up Uncle Bill
So the old coot doesn’t fall.
A Merry Country Christmas,
One full of country joy.
Little Willie wanted a 12 gauge,
But all he got was a toy.
New Year Resolutions are fine,
But they’re just not enough
So I say a prayer to the Big Boss
When what I want is tough
For the year of two thousand and twelve
I said a short prayer
In hopes of getting the help I need
from the boss way up there
“Dear God, I wouldn’t ask for this,
If it was just a whim.
Please give me a fat bank account
And a body that’s slim”
“Last year I prayed for the same thing
But it was all in vain
This year be careful, Dear God, and don’t
Get them mixed up again!
“Well my son you don’t understand
I heard both of your prayers
And what you asked for, was not ignored
It’s just not in my plan”
Submitted by: Charles Sides
THE PROBLEM WITH PRAYER
IS THAT GOD IS VERY BUSY
AND EITHER DOES NOT
HAVE AN ANSWERING MACHINE
OR RETURN CALLS
OR HAS HE JUST LEFT TOWN
NO FORWARDING ADDRESS
Lord in answer of prayer
Child of mine. I must admit I don’t hear from you very often,
Your brother though is quite devout, to him your heart should soften.
He say’s he works hard to me - but that you will blame him.
For anything you don’t do, and you will try to shame him.
Your brother, put in a plea for you, and not for a new bike.
You had better try harder, boy before I give you what you like.
I even hear from your teacher, he’s his own wits end,
He prayed for the cane to come back, so your ways you better mend.
Your mother tries so very hard it’s not her cooking at fault,
Its you and your picky ways, so they had better halt.
Your mother works hard and has little time to bake you pumpkin pie,
You're lucky boy to have gravy, never mind the turkey dry.
Your granddad needs a rest, don’t be a pest, he’s getting on you know.
As for grandma she puts up with all of you, so let the wines flow.
Your big sister, her father has already requested the boyfriends’ disappearance.
I’m working on that and everything else, so just give me a chance.
The neighbour’s - well they have not said, anything about you.
They just prayed that your family would go out, and then come back without you.
So listen boy the lord has spoken, and you better hear me well.
Cos come next thanksgiving year, You may hear from him below.
Commit to the turn!
Turn, Turn, Turn!!!
I am behind you, see me burn!
If you turn on your blinker
That means your going left or right
The way you drive leaves me in a fright!
Anxious I may be to get on my way
But your driving (or lack there of) is keeping us all at bay
As I take a deep breath and say a prayer for you
I am reminded that I have a grandma too
If you’re old or very young indeed
Here are some instructions for driving day by day
Commit to the turn!
Turn, Turn, Turn!!!
A Poem for Contest “ What Annoys You”
Sweet pea, Apple blossom, Anemone, Brodea,
Peach blossom, Amaryllis, Delwood, Freesia,
Ranunculus, Calla lily, Bird of Paradise.
I think each of these smell very nice.
Needing more, these are a must.
Gardenia, Hollyhock, Narcissus,
Tulip, Wax flower, Seeded Eucalyptus.
I’m neither gardener nor a green thumb.
Must I say it, I’m rather flower dumb.
Every flower I plant quickly begins to fade.
Where to plant, what to plant, I don’t know the trade.
Alas I try every year to have a great show,
Not a lack of effort, just a lack of know.
Now if you see me in the yard digging in the dirt,
Ask God a prayer for the plants not to hurt.
Because each year I do ask God to forgive me,
Even though I fail, I’m a Springtime Wannabe.
Inspired by the contest Flowers of Spring (not an entry)
I’ve been in my house for way too long
So now I resort to write this song
For all of the people who would agree
To very simple heartfelt plea
Snow please go away.
We hope that you’ll return another day
You’ve outdone your welcome you see
So I hope you will listen to me
The first day I was amazed to see
That God had given snow to me
The second day I was real surprised
To see that the roads were still real iced
Third day had come my heart was blue
The fear in my mind had just come true
School had been cancelled for the day
So to our God this prayer I laid
“Make the snow go away
We pray you’ll make return another day
Please Lord don’t you see
School is where I really need to be”
Fourth day a feeling came to me\
Frustration, boredom, and sadness three
Fifth day I ventured to the yard
Seeing the ice was very hard
I couldn’t take that day anymore
So I started season 3 of 24
Maybe this snow would never leave
Until I lose excessive sleep
I can’t stand you snow
Someplace else is where you need to go
My toes are numb I can’t find my brain
I don’t suspect I’ll ever feel them again
The sixth day came I was so glad
To get out the house with my dear dad
At the Starbucks I left my purse
Proving I’d lost my mind of course
Tomorrow is Friday a snow day too
I’m hoping the sun will come melt you
Activity low, I am so bored
But now I’ve run of guitar chords
In this house I’ve been for way too long
It’s given me time to write this song
Snow listen to this request I plea
My friends and family would agree
THE PERFECT PRAYER
I was leading the service at church Sunday night.
We were deep in the throes of a spiritual fight.
The preacher was gone, emotions ran high.
My first thought was no, but I knew I must try.
When it came time to pray, I wasn’t prepared.
I was feeling the pressure as everyone stared.
In searching my mind for guiding direction,
my wondering eyes made an easy connection.
He was a principled man who never said much.
Most knew him for his compassionate touch.
Before I could weigh all the risks it involved,
I had asked him to pray, my problem was solved.
He reluctantly agreed with a nervous little smile,
then started in, “God…” and paused for a while.
He struggled intently for words to compose.
As each moment passed, the room-tension rose.
A silent prayer, not what I first had in mind,
but we all had one going for words he could find.
A long awkward silence; I had counted to ten,
when he finally yelled, "Help!" and a quiet, "Amen."
Laughter burst out over what had occurred.
He summed up our anguish with one masterful word.
This spirit-filled man, I had put on the spot,
had patiently waited for the answer he sought.
Our healing began from that heartfelt plead.
When we give it to God, He knows just what we need.
With hope now replacing any thoughts of despair,
I thanked him for praying the perfect prayer.
The Perfect Prayer was based on a true experience I had at a high-school
youth retreat. The scenario was slightly different, the impact was the
same. This piece, one of my favorites, has been published in several
publications. Sometime, I think, we make prayer too complicated.
Resolutions aren’t enough
Prayer helps when it’s tough
This year I said a shot prayer
To “The Boss” up there
Prayed for two items from him
“Fat wallet”-“me slim”
Last year, I asked in vain
Don’t mix-up again!
(In the 80's, Pueblo, Colorado, poets Kyle Laws and Tony Moffeit played cemetery zombies in a Pueblo-directed, written and filmed horror movie, "Curse of the Blue Lights". They and Wrulf Gunkl VonGlashaus agreed to write poems, either entitled with or containing the line: "I was a zombie in the curse of the blues lights”.)
I was a zombie
in the curse of the blue lights,
And zombie, I found, is something you'd better do before you cross over,
people won't recognize you, you won't look the same
if you wait until too long after you're gone,
and zombie's what happens when your brain short-circuits on a frenzied emptiness of mind
staring out into the night through your glassy eyes,
the air both suffocating and liberating,
You exist, are there, yet not,
The stars look like billions of voyeuristic eyes bulging and winking with lurid fascination,
owls crouch on barren branches overhead,
their eyes rolling and twisting,
measuring an unsteady rhythm as they follow your lurching reel
through time narcissistically mirroring itself in endless loops without apology,
You're a zombie in the curse of the blue lights,
impossible to tell if you, the night, time, the stars and very air - beginning to stir -
the tombstones looking like unusually large pebbles on the sands of a foreign, yet familiar sea,
like abnormally high speed bumps in the road to where you know not,
as the wind begins prayer in a low howl above which the owls begin a late-night requiem:
"Hoo, hoo, hoo-o-o!"
until you groan: "You, you, you - well, actually, it's me, me, me!"
groaning, lurching, reeling
until you collapse with a vague knowledge and a smile on your face,
rising soon to the dance, again,
since the night stretches before you,
the stars still winking and beckoning you to lean into the reeling minuet
until the dawn of realizing you are a zombie in the curse of the blue lights and the
cemetery of your own mind... no drug in
the world could be more effective...