Never knew my grandpa's,
they were too old.
I cannot now sing
true grampus songs.
I get all teary-eyed
about those two dead and gonners.
I dream of going fishing with them,
listening to their tall tales,
and, well you know,
just getting along fine with the old guys.
Hey Grandaddies, what's up?
Do you look up
or down on me -
your once
whippersnapper blood-kin?
I'm a grandpappy myself now.
with grandkids,
It's grand,
Do you miss that toy train?
It went: choo-choo-choo,
you bought it for your own nippers
and it got passed down,
sorry, gramps,
I lost it somewhere along the line,
like I lost you.
Maybe you are both riding
that loco now,
just chuffing along with a huff- huff
and choo-choo glee.
Wish I could hear,
wish I could see.
Now When I Go Visit, Tears Fall, It Makes Me Sad
He rode the high plains to hell's dead weathered edge
Across the highest mountain on a horse he road
His grandpappy a wild man swung a heavy sledge
Many are the glowing legends on him were told
His heart was big and as pure as the finest gold
And he had a brilliant mind swift as blowing wind
The whole town, the entire county on him was sold
Even the meanest of animals was his best friend.
Yes, true to character they all on him were sold
Now from a baby he was a he-man full growed
And yes, a good country boy he was fairly grown
Old story, a good man, best I have ever known.
Now lies in small town cemetery, my loving dad.
Now when I go visit, tears fall, it makes me sad.
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
March 24th, 1970, age 16
Note. I was quite young when I wrote this poem.
I was barely sixteen. Did not know much about the world but I knew my dad was a very honest, hard working, tough man.
I am in love with a real babe, Foxy Moxy said to his cousin Line.
Gabe was picturing a sensuous fox with a silver tail fluffy and fine.
You will meet her shortly, Foxy told him. She’s over by that pine.
Line squinted his eyes, but he could see no female fox sublime.
He was confused by Foxy’s declaration, where could she be?
Yonder by the tallest pine, Foxy told him. The fluffiest tree.
Goosy walked up to his cousin and gave him a peck on the cheek.
Line was astounded and gave out a growl and a squeak.
I know we are diverse, Foxy Moxy said to his favorite cousin.
But she has the heart of gold of at least ten women, maybe a dozen.
They married in May, under the pine so sweet, both of them happy.
Line kept his mouths shut, eager to see the face of grandpappy.
Lee and I are identical twins. We look, sound, and are dressed identically.
It is 1958 and we are heading back to school from lunch.
Sing-song Lee thinks it is a normal May day; I realize it has more potential.
We are not going back to school, I tell her. Her eyebrows start to brunch.
She screams and wails, I have to cover her tell-tale mouth.
She is the dutiful one, but then I remind her of one thing.
I am playing hooky and I am not doing it alone, so I turn her south.
She shakes her tears off, knowing I have her; there is no more sing.
I have been the leader for a long time, boss of sister and brother.
Lee has no idea how to flip me for this role; I am firm like grandpappy.
We return to school later trotted there by our very angry mother
Who has switched us about six hundred times, and is not happy.
Why don’t you ever try and be the leader? I ask Lee, mad now.
I know it is because she is terrified of me, kind of gives me a wow.
She is way too afraid to tell me this, I realize as I shower.
I sleep well that night, recognizing my ultimate twin-leader power.
Since World War II, I’ve traveled the world,
Seeing many countries both near and far.
I started in the States where my eyes were unfurled,
Being kept in pockets and in many a jar.
Right off the press, I started out crisp and new.
I was cut from the others and soon put into play.
After the War, I became one of the few
That were tossed in a jar for a rainy day.
Then, I was given to a very young boy.
It was his eighth birthday and he seemed so happy.
He got a wonderful car from a man named Roy.
It was his mother’s ill father, his dear old grandpappy.
When he opened up the card and saw me there,
He knew he was loved by someone so much.
Right away, he knew how to spend me, and where;
In a toy machine with lots of prizes and such.
He wrapped up the toy that he won on his own,
And had his parents help him address the letter.
When it got to his grandpappy, he opened it alone.
He was touched by the gift, and felt so much better.
Later that week, I was taken from the machine,
And the cashier noticed that I was very old.
He gave me to his son, who was only thirteen,
And this began my next journey, to be later told.
I am self proclaimed real swinger
My name however, for a Nerd is a dead ringer
I have perfected the War Craft game
On Micro Soft computer applications, I can put anyone to shame
I am not into testosterone things such as fuel injectors
Secretly for Christmas I want a pocket protector
For every movie my name is in, I steal the scene
It is my parents I owe for the burdensome name of Eugene
Other bad names for example one is Clarance
He said he was named after his Grandpappy, what an inheritance
As for as it goes, I should be thankful for my health
I am so grateful for not being named Ralph
When I was growing up, there was a kid I know
He hated his named Ralph so much, he insisted on being called Ditto
I always make sure my handkerchiefs are always clean
Welcome to my real world of Eugene
There was one Nerd who rivaled my Nerdy world
Did I do that? Famous words of Erkel
Yes I do wear a wrist watch calculator
I carry a pocket sized stapler
Girls who share my interests are far and few in between
Will any female ever see the masculinity beneath the skin of Eugene