My brother’s book deserves a look
And not just for the time it took,
But for the family tree he shook
To show the need to strive.
His characters are loosely based
On relatives whose lives he traced
From foreign lands ‘til they embraced
New homes when they’d arrive.
The story’s universal, though,
For as they settle and they grow,
We realize how much we don’t know
Of how they did survive.
Most families who did emigrate
Shared hardships and the hand of fate
And often, we learn much too late
What pushed or helped them thrive.
My brother’s book may bring acclaim
And might or might not garner fame,
But if you read From Where We Came*,
His story stays alive.
by Burt Rashbaum
Why are you sitting here playing with your shadows?
Your bitter sadness is building too much gunk inside your mind.
Let the past go.
Wash away your tears and let the pain flow.
Scrub each thorn till it spills, leave them hollow.
Grit down your teeth; drag a match against the haze,
Let it split open, watch it dance in a maze.
Lips cracking, fingers numb, but my pulse still hums.
A drowning ache in the echo chamber of a hollow.
(C) CRAIG J. BURT & GilaVamp 10/25/24
My brother and I shared a bedroom
With cowboys on every wall.
Though we’re three years apart
Our connection did start
While our baby bro slept down the hall.
My memories don’t have much info
Of the time that we spent in that room,
But since we got along
I don’t think I’d be wrong
Saying we were content (I’d assume).
When the crib for our sib got confining,
Rooms were switched; gender came into play.
I would guess that our mother
Thought brother and brother
Would both take to the cowboy display.
So I got my own room, but I wonder,
Did I miss my first roommate a bit?
Maybe yes, maybe no;
It was so long ago,
But years later, I have to admit
That a kinship formed so very early,
If you’re lucky, holds fast in the heart.
For your birthday today,
Burt, though you’re far away,
Think of cowboys, where we had our start.
'Dinner won't be long, Dear.'
Burt puffed up his pillows and squeezed one out.
'Better wash your hands, now'.
The armchair smothered his glee.
Wallaby faggots,
Brown rice juices,
Lentils,
Barley and rye.
Jumbo morels,
Whatever she sells,
Liquid fish stock,
Brussels and hock,
Tranches of offal from Thebes!
Chilly jam and
Fruity brown sauce.
Round and round
The rotten rump,
The rancid ratchet rasped.
'It must've been that onion jus',
Was all that I could gasp.
Round and round
The rotten rump,
The rancid ratchet rasped.
'It must've been that onion jus',
Was all that I could gasp.
"On the day that you were born the angels got together and decided to create
a dream come true " lyrics by Burt Bacharach for Carpenters' "Close to You"
Angelic was my love – a vision!
He made me develop something
maybe close to tunnelvision
for him, a heavenly young thing!
I swear rapture was in his eyes.
Angelic was my love – a vision.
Radiant was he as sunrise.
Perfection needs no revision.
Day one there was a collision -
chemistry we could not deny.
Angelic was my love – a vision.
On wings of bliss I learned to fly.
Kisses and caresses sublime.
It was not a hard decision
to give to him all my sweet time.
Angelic was my love – a vision!
where is that little bear, Burt? Everyone asked.
finding him was deemed to be a cousins’ task
we knew he was in the sunflower field probably taking a nap
that’s when some of us got in trouble for saying “oh, crap!”
the adults can swear, it seems all right when it is them
But it better not be the kids in the family said Uncle Jim.
the sunflowers are prickly almost like thorns and they hurt.
We were all scuffed up and bleeding by the time we found Burt.
Saturday Bang
By Craig J. Burt/Jimmy Boom Semtex
All those freakish skinheads take a hike
Hey Hey Hey
Rock and roll and crash this pub
All the men grab your ladies
Cheers!!!
Fill up our mugs with fresh cold beer
Happy weekend everyone
All back to front take the pub!
Steal their beer kiss their gals
We are the lads we own this town
Nobody messes with us
We mess them up bop them
Ladies love a ruffian
They smile and wait we Kings
JIM N CRAIG POEMS BOOK 3
Joint poems by Craig J. Burt and Jimmy Boom Semtex
out in 23
Sarah Huckabee,
Russell Vought,
Burt Jones,
Jody Hice,
David Shafer,
Brandon Beach,
Angela McCallum,
Bernie Keric,
Josh Hawley,
Andrew Clyde and
Ted Cruz.
Time’s never obliged ~
Heedless, impetuous fame
Exacerbates traits…
But factitious facades fade
UV-rays on gelcoats, craze…
Retouch, unfinished ~
Tide oblivious, streams on
Rising and ebbing…
Eyes old smile recognition
Young ones urge explanation…
Names so soon obscure ~
Ocean sinking impetus
Leaves afloat, excerpts…
Darn! That cannonball race zipped!
Speedy generations flash…
(3/7/2021: Caribbean, Windmill Cove)
BY CRAIG J. BURT & JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX 5/22/20
90 degrees today
Crazy mood & happy
Ready to test out my brand new Audi
Down this bumpy road
The best time's right now
German made quality car
Aircon & tunes are on
You smile & we are complete.
You don’t remember what I told you.
The last time I laid eyes on you.
You don’t remember ........
I told you that I love you,
You only remember the blues.
Chorus:
You only remember the bad times.
You never remember the good.
You never remember the fun things we do.
You only remember the blues.
If you just tried to remember.
Some of the things we used to do.
I know in my heart you’d be happy.
Burt you only remember the blues.
Now I know this thing we have is over.
And I’m not blaming only you.
But I know it could have been much better.
But you only remember the blues.
Chorus:
You only remember the bad times.
You never remember the good.
You never remember …......
Just how much I love you......................
You only remember the blues...........
Cal Bambi "The word artist" ©Riginal
I paint pictures with words.
calbambi@gmail.com
By Craig J. Burt/Jimmy Boom Semtex
I'm drunk tonight
I'm swelling deep down inside
I'm ready to take on
The next big bang
Oh yes it makes me wanna sang...
There we go some more drink
And fine Cuban cigars
Amazulu on the decks
Time to get all Caribbean
Come and sit on my knee
Bring the rum and Redstripe
We’ve got all night long to smile
By Craig J. Burt /Jimmy Boom Semtex
Are you ok?
Your brain's rattling like crazy
You're dancing like a ballerina
Twerkin around these crazy hot streets
You say why be a bore?
Life is a chore
Refuse to fade
Like a shadow of a doubt
Silver star filled skies
Shining proudly
Living freely & deep in love
We're no longer
Strangers tonight now
Sensational romantics
Loving devoutly
And the clatter of heels echoes
Upon concrete downtown Havana
Never had it so good or free
The Castros’ grip and communism fade
While we dance chest to chest
Thigh to thigh Lambada-esque
Los Lobos couldn’t be this cool
Nor move so erotic like you and me
For freedom for Cuba for us
This goes on and on
Like a whistling wind
Calling your name
Stop stop and listen
Do you hear it?
like From Here
to Eternity's
beach
scene
we're just kissing
but for all
eternity
as the
tide though i'm
tongue tied
for a lack
of better
words
since
there
is no
water
in the
play
ground
sand
It’s A Stitch Up
I struck a match and the gas cooker did me
So a chap called Sidney gave me a kidney
I didn’t steal it and I didn’t beg
But a fellow called Clegg gave me a leg
My best mate Paul gave his left eyeball
But my uncle Jock gave nothing at all
Thanks to Steve there’s an arm up my sleeve
And the fact I can breath is hard to believe
But the praises I’ve sung cos Burt gave me a lung
Fall short of Fred Young who made me well hung
And so I thank Fred for my prowess in bed
But if it wasn’t for Ted, I’d still have no head
When I walk again I hope I will meet
The geezer next door who gave me his feet
Nobody knows who gave me my nose
But a guy up my street gave me all of his toes
Old Bobby Tutt gave me his gut
The rider from Pizza Hut gave me his butt
But how can I ever thank young Tommy Green
Who gave me his heart and his liver and spleen
But it seems all those people I never shall greet
For when the gas blew, it blew up the street.
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