Best Pass The Hat Poems
Follow down the garden path
That leads to inner peace.
Plant the seeds of gratitude.
Indulge your best caprice.
Simplify each ritual.
Improve the whole routine.
Stay flexible and balanced.
Fold the laundry once it’s clean.
Clear out all the clutter.
Dust the cobwebs. Brush the cat.
Forgive the unforgiven.
Hand it over; pass the hat.
Appreciate the glories
That reside beneath the sun.
And silence all the thunder guns,
Yes, each and every one.
What mighty man shall this cup serve,
Whose power rests on fealty’s nerve,
With certain lust it shames to know,
How upon its charms did grow.
A thousand years did wax and wane,
Until a Dane did ascertain,
That time was ripe for certain news,
A book he wrote with crooked clues.
A goodnight read did he convey,
Thoughts that caused some disarray,
With simple verse did he unveil,
A magic code that was the real.
Foul, foul to be so naughty!
Those dirty men at a party,
So many others not invited,
Rage and anger now ignited.
His story told a subtle tale,
Of one who was a ripe female,
Into the night she had fled with seed,
Carrying the babe of man’s misdeed.
The churchmen did not like this thought,
Preferring the plan they had bought,
That damsels ought to stay like that,
So a chosen few could pass the hat.
Whence upon the story broke,
The pope his army did invoke,
To arrest the man’s little scheme,
For thinking of this seamy dream.
Another bloke whose name was Leigh,
Who suffered from some jealousy,
Cried and yelled with all his might,
To no avail was the fight.
With all the Brownian motion,
There was a bit of commotion,
A genre hereby was created,
By an idea that many hated.
So what was really this all about,
That threatened those who were devout,
Could it simply have been so scary,
That the Man was sometimes Mary?
That they forgot a contraceptive,
Should not make us less receptive,
To one degree or another,
We all come from the same big mother.
So let us stop this boring blight,
Embrace instead the fun of night,
Dan the man stole an idea,
Oh mama mia, mama mia!
Bat Masterson was hired as a gamblin' boss at the Denver Saloon in 1891,
In a town high in the Rockies, Creede by name; he took no guff from anyone!
The rowdy saloon, restaurant and gamblin' hall ran twenty-four hours a day;
Bat patrolled the place with a pair of 44's on his hips to keep ruffians at bay!
One night he was approached by Parson Tom Uzzell who asked to preach,
As he was wont to do in minin' camps, hopin' fer errant souls to reach!
With misgivin's a sermon might dampen play, Bat banged a bottle on the bar
And told everyone to "remove yer hats while Parson Tom preaches over thar!"
After the sermon Bat directed a bar-tender to pass the hat for Parson Uzzell.
"Be generous with yer coin, then ya'll can continue with yer booze to guzzle"
"Boys, I'm a-thankin' ye", said Tom, "I'm gonna build a church in Creede!"
"I had a revelation from God; He said a heap of religion is what you need!"
Bat was a notorious practical joker and while the parson slept that night,
He had 3 of Soapy Smith's con men steal the parson's pants on the slight!
When the silver-laden pants pockets were emptied, $348 was tallied!
The raucous rabble agreed to double that amount when again they rallied!
$700 was collected; Bat put the pants and money in a safe in the saloon.
Tom roared into the saloon next day clad in red long-johns around noon!
Callin' on God to strike down the thief who had stolen his pants and money!
They laughed when Bat gave Tom his pants; even Tom thought it funny!
Honorin' the tradition of big winners, Parson Tom bought a round for all!
'Tis Colorado lore about the prank played on Tom in Denver Saloon Hall!
He rode in to Santa Fe one summer day on a broken-down, sweaty nag.
All he owned was the clothes on his back and the Bible in his saddle bag.
He wore a suit of black, an old slouch hat, both so dusty and frayed.
He was an itinerant preacher man by the name of Jeremiah Slade.
Beneath his well-worn duds he wore a brace of pistols on his hips,
With the 'sinners' in towns he occasionally enjoyed a couple-a nips!
His District Superintendent took a very dim view of his associations,
Warnin' that it might lead him into very injudicious temptations!
He dismounted, hitched his hoss and brushed the dust from his suit,
And strolled to Clancy's Saloon, well-known as a house of ill-repute!
He sauntered up to the bar and pointed to a jug of whiskey on the shelf,
Sayin', "Bartend, hand me that bottle. I'll pour three-fingers fer myself!"
He leaned with his back to the bar surveyin' the riotous scene before him.
The debauchery he viewed indicated reapin' souls looked mighty grim,
But he drawed his guns and hammered the butts on the bar fer attention!
"By Gawd!" he thundered, "I intend to clean up this place is my intention!"
With that the dancin', brawlin' and gamblin' came to an abrupt cease!
"Now, I want y'all to find Jesus and give each other the kiss of peace!"
Forty-two souls searched and found Him that day in Clancy's Saloon!
He praised the Lord, sayin', "That's a purty good haul and it ain't even noon!"
The new saints were shoutin' "Hallelujah!" and he roared, "Now hold on there!
I remind y'all I don't preach fer nothin' and if'n y'all would care to share,
I'll pass the hat and as Jesus said, ''Tis better to give than to receive!"
He gave some to the bartend, sayin' "Set 'em up!" With that he took his leave!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
I Celebrate My Father
By Franklin Price
6/16/2017
I celebrate my father he was the best of men
He's the reason I'm who I am or who I've ever been
Taught me by example, showed me the man that I should be
Believed in God, earned his pay and loved his family
Was not an educated man but great at handy work
Carpentry, electrical and plumbing not a quirk
Turned an orange grove office/barn into the home where I was raised
Was a warm and dry two story house, I think back and am amazed
I never felt I was in need, we were not far from poor.
He was always there, for me, not one to keep the score
Worked extra jobs to get us by, would never pass the hat,
Never one for charity could not imagine that.
Would help all kinds of people when he saw they were in need
Would not take money from them unless they had agreed
Took me with him, when he went, to show me how to be
I'm proud he was my father, he's the reason I am me.
Was there for graduation in nineteen sixty four
He died before the month was out, wish he had lived for more
He still lives within me, follow his values all I can
It's not the riches, that you have, but how your treat your fellow man
Caustic fears,
Campaign smears,
A candidate faking tears.
Spewing lies,
Employing spies,
No one willing to compromise.
Platforms,
Reforms,
Recruiting in college dorms.
She’s a bore,
He’s at war,
No one knows what we’re fighting for.
Take a stand,
Shake a hand,
Spreading rumors about the man.
Red states
Blue states
Pregnant chads in debate.
Filibust,
Loosing trust,
Does anyone really care about us?
Socialized,
Criticized,
Citizens are polarized.
Impeached,
A promise breached,
Nice lessons for us to teach.
Pass the hat,
Diplomat,
Why didn’t I think of that?
Politicians,
Full of sins,
In the end, who really wins?