Some go to canberra to look at the sights.'
Some went in 22, to complain on its blights.'
Its a strange old place canberra.' A shop window of sorts.' A (w e f) example of just
What has been bought.' Gee thery are a strange mob in 'that place' but the best place
TWOT'S; to see..And in great numbers; just take it from me, maybe that could become
Passtime.? We'll have to wait and see.'Go up there and (count the TWOTS?) Well you'll get a whole lot.' All in
One place they be .' ( its almost a humanistic zoo) My proverbial God.' Its
TWOT town Australia..' but you need to be in a good
Numbered crew, cause they can be quite savage, wow I'm tellin you.' They
Have been known to be agressive.' To spectators when up close.' I saw a TWOT once
Ram a convoy..Screaming expletives mouthing hatefull boasts..But go on up by all means.!
Just stay protected from ( their cookers ) and
Don't let them know you're counting..Thats a
' thing i'm told; best never done in front of hookers'
Say, dig what I say
Talkin’ bout a new jazz vibe/
Man, move over/
the Jazz Cookers are hittin’ their stride in the groove to stay alive/
Eddie Henderson/
Cecil McBee/
George Cables,Billy Hart
and Billy Harper/
swingin’ harder jazz be flying/
downbeat, upbeat, man, count It off/
their soul auras are in the jazz notes they play/
David Weiss and Donald Harrison are fryin’ their amps/
burnin’ the house down/
with the jazz club scene in decline/
and record labels cuttin’ back on jazz/
the jazz Cookers have to stay alive and relevant in a jazz-changing world/
so dig, be cool struttin’ as Sonny Clark would say/
you might not always get a payday but you love to play/
the Cookers boss horns are on fire/
hip tones blowin' from the stage/bro, this is the jazz life you chose and after a gig, you might be all alone/
so be in the moment and improvise on your jazz note phrasing/
you’ll find the rhythm and meaning knowing you can play the same note gig after gig night after night/
but different every time/
are you hip to the Cookers?/
they will have you finger poppin’ and blowin' your mind/
wahoo that’s a whole lotta jazz
Her name is simply Thalia!
Does that sound unfamiliar?
A science foundation in an old city
Volunteering to tackle The Gritty,
Here in Nigeria accomplish
What her compatriots wish;
Like fingers not failed by triggers
The firm shovels of firm diggers,
Already reinforcing The Walls of Science
And up bracing Arochukwu’s commonsense;
The little left of her research courage
Long lost and becoming an adage …
Because, personally, I’d seen it all
Set rolling like A League’s Ball:
The many computers in the rooms they belong,
A skeleton I hope shall sing a song,
A Nutrition Lab promising superb cookery
And gas-cookers pledging no trickery;
Thalia’s control room for fishing prowlers out,
Sixteen screens for crooks to think about.
Arochukwu THALIA puts at an advantage
And her lips readies for vintage;
On the whole, a reason to love The White Man
And stop being astonished each time he can.
The top has always been nothing but rough and tumble.
But things really started to get bad when the bottom began to crumble.
Race and gender have always needed to have been handled carefully.
Now it's catching fire because they've been multiplied by fifty.
War and peace are pressure cookers when they are handled by the selfish and the thrifty.
Politics and chaos exist in a pot that is always being stirred.
But now it is boiling over because the definition of rights is being blurred.
A shout is responded with a shout.
Morality is on its way out.
It seems as if stone cold affection is what we are about.
Intervene or the blood lust will continue.
And it will only be but a while before the wolves rule over you.
Empires have come and gone for millennia.
If brotherly love cannot prevail, our tears will flow into Oceania.
And we will be saying goodbye, to the United States of America.
Unending expectations
Can lead to so much dread
Money always spent
Could be paid on bills instead
This commercial time of year
Can end in such a mare
Alcohol drank in haste
might not get you there
So before you spend a penny
Make sure you can afford
Those pretty little things
That end up in the hoard
Before you take a drink
Make sure you know your mind
As litte ones want laughter
Not your drunk behind
These are only little warnings
As at this time of year
The pressure cookers building
So i whisper in your ear
Remember to be thankful
As you look for reindeers in the sky
As Christmas miracles come so quickly
They can easy pass you by
I wish you peace and harmony
I wish you all good cheer
I wish you Happy Yuletide
I wish you Happy New Year
For years preachers have ranted and raved to control the activities of hookers!
Well, I'm proposin' that the guv-mint control the sale and use of pressure cookers!
We've seen the havoc these lethal weapons wreaked upon Olde Boston Towne.
Congress should act, now that the furor over gun control is settlin' down!
There should be background checks on little old ladies who have a yen for one,
And there should be a waitin' period to buy one just as there is for a gun!
Even though they may be designed to hold twelve quarts when locked and loaded,
Congress should limit capacity to six quarts so as not to be accidentally exploded!
I'm really concerned that I broached this urgent matter, upon serious reflection.
I fear some politico might read this and make it an issue to help in his reelection!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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