Best County Poems
(Spenserian Sonnet)
A flagrant man is Robert Brown, a swine;
his eyes glow red like ember coals of fire.
Will fate be kind or bring him bitter brine
and will his soul the evil one require?
Did in pretense he seek to prove desire
and rise to plant a kiss upon her lips?
He sliced her neck and watched his wife expire,
as blood streamed down and dripped from fingertips.
Yet rumor spread as neighbors came to grips
with horror of a murder in their town,
and newsmen raced to pen details in scripts
while lawmen flocked to chase the villain down.
I held my mother in my arms and cried;
her eyes met mine in sorrow as she died.
Summer swelter on an August night
You can feel the heat in the air
Carnival lights and cars in the grass
It’s time for the county fair
French fries and burgers
Candy cotton sticky fingers
Ferris wheels, spinning wheels
The memory still lingers
Dust on your shoes
As we walked holding hands
Kids fishing for prizes
A line of concession stands
Local band trying to make its mark
Dancing on grass under a tent
Walking around until well past dark
Win a Teddy by pitching a cent
Ice cream soda was a special treat
Greasy pole was a funny sight
Admiring the car with the rumble seat
Fireworks on closing night
Special memories of days gone by
My mind often takes me there
Back when love was a country girl
And we went to the county fair.
There's a gonna be a crimson moon tomorrow night...
Me and Delroy, heading down Witcher at half past midnight. Our destination: Witcher Redemption Church of Christ. It's been pouring like crazy since ten. Lightning streaks are giving the church steeple with its twenty foot cross an eerie aura, as rumbling thunder shakes the ground beneath our feet.
Fueled by a bottle of Jack shared and a hatred for the evil that has taken place here, our intent is to burn this unholy building to the ground. Two bricks and two molotovs hurled at and through the stained glass windows should do the trick.
Just last week ol' Rev King was convicted of molesting three underage girls over the past twenty years. To think that he stood on that pulpit preaching fire and brimstone at us turns my stomach. It was Del who suggested we torch the place, his sister was one of the victims.
It's now 12:59 am. The rain has slowed. My heart is pounding in my ears between roars of thunder. On the count of three we take our vengeance.
One...
Two...
Three...
Crash Crash! Windows successfully busted. Molotov cocktails lit and hurled on target. Flames rising. Victory!
But wait! Silhouettes approaching from the woods just beyond. Suddenly, a lightning flash. Three, no, four black bears loping toward us at great speed. Our demise, imminent. Our destiny, sealed. My only thought now is this: What horrid twist of fate has led to this judgment? O GOD, PLEASE HELP US...
twisted happenings
mothers of the disappeared weep
baptisms delayed
* Poem/story inspired by a road and church I passed recently and the television series Zoo. Also a nod to a U2 song. Events are fictional.
No saints amongst us write a father’s song,
He writes his own which claims no innocence,
As tones of sadness urge he move along,
His pen now takes the stand in his defense;
Atop the desk where sit respondent’s words,
Are pictures taken of his darling girls;
For them he’d fight an army full of swords,
And let none question love's resplendent pearls.
Though flawed imperfect flesh is worn as own,
And lonely eyes are often blind by mist,
He states emphatic that he’s never thrown,
Not once in life an angry violent fist.
May all now know forevermore this claim –
I’ll fight ‘til death for they that share my name.
Respectfully Submitted,
Phillip M. Garcia, Respondent
Father of Ava Elise Garcia
Father of Lily Belle Garcia
10/29/2016
With cotton candy
Pink and dandy,
Funnel cakes, sweet
All you can eat
A Ferris wheel
To make you squeal,
The carousel
Sure looks swell
Toss a ring
To win something,
Pop a balloon
You'll get it soon
Try to get that prize
Go for the biggest size,
Win a pet if you wish
Take home a goldfish
Stay there all night
For every sound and sight,
Like a kid again, be
So much to do and see
Show off what you do
Win a ribbon, blue,
Shower what you raise
With the highest praise
Craft and quilt
By hands built,
Goodness canned
Grown on the land
Pumpkins and pies
To delight the eyes,
Each cow and pig
The biggest of the big
Farmer's best on display
Sat in a pile of hay,
Take in the dairy air
At the county fair!
In a small gold rush town sipping on ale
Mark Twain once overheard a bartender
Made himself famous by penning this tale
A frog jump contest with a large wager
Decided outright when one frog didn't jump
The contest over before it could start
Obvious that the bullfrog seemed too plump
Buckshot in it's belly made jumping hard
The first County fair sixty years later
They called it The Jumping Frog Jubilee
Just local frogs are allowed to enter
The record is over twenty one feet
Each May at Angels Camp, California
Mark Twain's tale center stages the gala
The thought of "dwarf tossing" I abhor
But a leaping frog will make me roar
In Calaveras County
They leap to collect bounty
Hillbillies watch as moonshine they pour
To leap the farthest takes stamina
Mixed with a good dose of enema
Hoots and howls from onlookers
As bets are placed with bookers
Entertainment factor enigma
Entry for John Freeman's Limerick contest
Calaveras County really does have a frog jumping contest. See
http://www.beachcalifornia.com/california/jumping-frog-calaveras-county.html
After a wonderful late afternoon walk in the park,
my wife and I moseyed over to the Japanese Hibachi Grille for some dinner.
What we got into was some good old fashioned drama down at BeniHana...
You see, I got me a fetish for shiny cookware,
so as the patrons' eyes honed in on the iron chef
dicing up onions, shrimp, and chicken...
mine were busy fantasizing about concealing Ginsu knives
clankin' in the kitchen.
"Brew Silly began his routine with the hot fire volcano bit
atop the flat grille.
In the distraction, my sticky fingers began reactin',
slippin' utensils inside my zipper, for a thrill.
Things started heatin' up as folks were eating up;
Spatulas started flyin'!
Mushrooms were a fryin',
My conscience stopped trying...
tired of getting beaten up!
Now, if I told you I was lookin' at what was cookin'...
I'd be a lyin'.
I mean, I was really tryin',
but the devil had me by the klepto-hands...guiding me.
Riling me up.
He said, "Go for one of them Wok's! Do it now Big Dog!
Get yir rocks off! Knock yir socks off!
Quick man...sly like a fox, Hoss!"
My heart said, "No", but my head said, "OH HELL YES!"
Sadly, I was in cahoots with the devil,
bass mixed with treble,
trouble poundin' in my chest!
So guess what came next?-
I grabbed one of them big brass bitches,
signaled Jessie's ass with a quickness,
and started gunnin for the door!
Of course, my good hearted wife started whinin',
"Honey, I wasn't done, now what are we leavin' for?"
"Listen baby, I'll explain later.
Right now it's time to go!"
As we passed the pretty little hostess,
she banged the gong and said real fast,
"AHH, Tank-You Berry Much F'wor Cummean Fwolks!"
We jetted towards the park, but it was getting dark.
My legs began to fail. The cops were on our tail.
We tried to walk and play it off, but it was no use.
We should have stayed and ate our food,
and drank our brews with "BREWS!"
The pigs threw me to the ground,
then began to squeal and bark.
They tossed us in the County Jail,
twenty thousand bail...
____________FOR TAKIN' A WOK TO THE PARK!!!
~"True story ={WinK+Wink}
Thought I'd write about something naughty
I'm good at it as you very well know
It comes from decades of ogling these ladies
And watching them put on a show
Seduced a young filly, jail bait for sure
Got away with it, but what an encounter
With tons of raw energy, nearly blew my mind
Should have left her alone where I found her
Hope the authorities don't get a hold of this
There's a possibility I'll disappear for a while
Serving some time in the old county jail
I hear inmates are quite quick with a smile
As soon as you read it, dump it in the trash
Don't want to take too many chances
Lived quite an honourable life until now
Don't wanna be a victim of circumstances
This was just a figment of my imagination
But I'm paranoid when it comes to the law
Have a squeaky clean record up until now
That's how I want to keep it, yeehaw!
© Jack Ellison 2015
He said you know today will be a day we can spare so
We’re going down to the county fair
So I’m happily calling off work just
Because lately my boss has been a jerk
And I need some fresh air
And I know that hot, hot sun will get to us some
But I am not in a hurry today
Let’s ride the Ferris wheel, the gravity spinning wheel,
And we will relax and just chill
I know we will stroll around the whole fair grounds
Until we have made our way all around
And that is okay with me
Then I will buy us lunch
After we have ridden all the rides
And think it’s enough for a while
I know you are going to try to get me to go on one of those crazy dumb rides
That turns you upside down while taking you for a ride
As your stomach twists and turns in knots,
But today that is one this I cannot do
But I will watch while you do
I know at around 10 pm tonight this county fair will be shutting down
And we will have to go home and wait
Until the next time they have the county fair in town
I’m in Cook County Jail and don’t know why
All because of a devious lie
When I bend for the soap
It’s the only one not on a rope
The one eyed pirate gets a poke in the eye
Summer’s golden blade does thrust
its effervescent golden musk,
and into wheaten fields’ did trust,
a volley of ethereal rust,
caught by tempered, evening gust
Cart and horse they trot out forth,
spilling damsels, on the stones,
clouds and mayfly drift off north,
bees for nectar send out drones,
later, honey over scones
Weary orchestra of light,
dips its day that comes to dusk,
all’s not well that ends in night
spins the web, the prisoner’s husk,
spider drinks the tasty rusk
And when the season’s hunting horn,
cries the chase to fox in den,
master, hound and prey forlorn,
skip by waltzing weazels ten;
like scented breeze, on watery fen
Written for English Quintain contest 15/8/15
How exciting to walk down the midway
with all the crowds, the vendors to hear what they say.
Oh look to your left, it's all the games!
Many people playing them, all variety of names.
To our right are the many shows.
And in these days we know that just about anything goes.
Hey look! Should we ride the Ferris Wheel?
It's so high it's bound to give us quite a thrill!
Let's try all of the rides, they are so cool!
They even have one where you can ride a mule.
We'll have hotdogs, popcorn and cotton candy.
All the foods they have are always so dandy.
Yes, the County Fair is the fun place to go.
If you have the time and the money to blow!
For Unamed County Fair contest
The heat hung on the spiders webs
tinsel from tree limbs
taunt between gargantuan boles
the golden hour lay garland on silken floss
with its intrepid arachnid host.
Dream weaver, fate Mother, Earth balancer
She dances.
A minuet brown bit suspending itself
between heaven and earth.
Across immense spans of grassy knolls
where the Cahokia sleep in the mounds of Kings.
She dances.
Dream weaver, fate Mother, Earth balancer
Centering the spinning Earth, the Cosmos…
harmonizing harp home of the Mother
caller of the four corners
She dances.
Billy the Kid was living an honest life as a ranch hand.
He was employed by John Tunstall, an immigrant Englishman.
Mr Tunstall gave Billy his own horse, rifle and full saddle gear.
When he presented them to the Kid, Billy held back his tears.
"What's wrong son?" Mr Tunstall asked Billy outright.
The Kid responded, "No one has ever given me anything ever in my life."
It appeared that Billy was finally going to live a good life for sure,
until the competition murdered Mr Tunstall, which sparked The Lincoln County War.