proud to be an american (in jest)
i saw the mailman steal my letter
i saw the tax man steal my dime
just when i thought things were better
i saw the preacher steal my time
i saw the mexican steal my border
and the terrorist steal my plane
gas so high i can’t afford’er
but still i pump ‘er just the same
my boss became a very rich man
and his boss was richer still
i didn’t understand their master plan
and i suppose i never will
the dog pound repossessed my stray
the ford dealer took my car
it was on empty anyway
so i know he won’t get far
the banker closed my bank account
the gardener took back his plants
wells fargo got just a small amount
but levi’s repossessed my pants
alfani took the shirt off my back
florsheim’s now has my shoes
my new socks are from a gunny sack
least i don’t owe union dues
the plumber took my kitchen sink
the carpenter took my wood
so about this time i’m startin’ to think
if this is bad i need some good
tonight i’ll sleep beneath the stars
and feel a gentle breeze
i’ll wonder why god went so far
just to get me on my knees
© tolbert
I want to taste the new ruffled orange mushrooms Lilly Watt said.
they are known as “chicken of the woods” on oak trees not dead.
shaggy ink caps were jealous, as were bioluminescent blues.
faerie mushrooms danced a jig, found in clumps of two times twos.
foragers from several places headed back outside to hunt the caps
acorn syrup is tasty also said a known forager, Chef Ultra Naps.
faeries scattered as their homes were stuffed into gunny sacks.
said one. Some of these are poison; do they have their facts?
The summer sun scorches flower and grass,
dust has filled up every cranny and crack.
The humidity has climbed near the top,
it’s hotter’n two cats in a gunny sack.
The dog’s under the porch with tongue hanging,
ain’t rained in I don’t know how many days.
Sprinklers are spraying but to no avail,
I’m afraid the lawn has faded away.
But here in the shade of this old maple,
this ragged hammock fits my butt just fine.
Though there’s a thousand chores need to be done,
I think they'll wait for a much cooler time.
What, in your own mind, you do think you lack,
Within thy sensational loneliness--
Truly energize luck and got your back,
To promote thy risk in times, coziness.
Then each and every of your lovely fear,
Creates the globe with an enormous home.
Surely, of a great deal, becomes so dear
A lorry pen drives where shining hearts roam...
May blank pages cease not-- thy gunny bag;
Supplying the pride of your heart with clues,
Pen punches so hard to raise the world's flag.
To place pleasing mags, setting minds amuse.
Your day of the year is of heritage;
Deifying your grace and works, great homage.
There are many kinds of wars some make you die some make you cry
when your far away suffused in gunpowder, you learn to live and lie
A red letter day arrived, their baby was born blue, cold and stillborn
he sat in the bunker away from atomic blasts grief soaked and forlorn
Jim walked in and released his gunny sack " dam the war " what you got
stoic and in shock he wheezed, coughed took a drag of cigarette, wot?
There are many kinds of wars, some make you die some make you cry
today was not a day for tears, with a mendacious smile he prayed to die .
July 20, 2022
Sponsor Faraz Ajmal
Contest Name Tears of a Valiant Soldier
Her confidence introduced her by walking into every room first.
Wearing lipstick and eye shadow like Barbra Streisand’s from the sixties.
It would have looked ridiculous on all the rest of us.
We would have looked like trailer trash hookers.
On her, it looked elegant, lovely, unique, and chic.
She could have walked in wearing a gunny sack
And we would have all run out to buy our own.
Sure there were haters, but she did not notice.
She was too busy engaging others in conversation.
The lucky ones who were too busy staring at her beauty to hate her.
Firearms for sale
Come and get them now.
Our rifles are fine
Our shotguns are a wow!
So you can’t come by today, Chet?
That’s okay. Buy them on the Internet.
How much easier can it be?
So many sold nice and illegally.
Fire arms for sale. Oh. You are only ten?
Well, we have to make allowances now and again.
Step right up and show me your cash.
We’ll get you a shotgun in an Iowa flash.
Who’s that young kid standing outside?
Tell him to come in; we won’t make fun or chide.
All he has to have is real USA money.
Just ask my sister, Rough and Ready Rita Gunny.
Sam walks like an ox with his gunny-box,
Naughty children count the holes in his crocs.
Some say there are ten large spots,
Others say they're like gun-shots.
Sam thinks they are praising his oxen-walks.
23 June 2021
The monks were frozen in place
and in time, in a barren field
The countryside offered them nothing
They seemed desolate and lonely
Were they remnants of families?
They are clustered like that
Or were they monks surprised by lava
The gorgeous blue of the sky
gave us no clue; we approached cautiously
Unsure if we were going to encounter
Something alive or something long dead.
Would they be granite or more like petrified forest?
There is a flowing feeling to them
Perhaps they are made from gunny sacks or linen.
It is a curiosity.
Wagons packed, gunny sacked
Wheat flour, beans, preserves
Wild nature sojourning
Worn axles, oxen, health
Winter weather challenge
Wealth aspiring visions
Wonder-filled golden hills
5-10-2021
Plieades W Contest
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
TORN SOJOURN
The day was so sunny,
with my red nose runny
I went alone running out,
I didn’t have any doubt
before I could go very far
mother would be aware.
She quickly tracked me,
I swiftly hid behind a tree
for my mid-day sojourn,
in sad shreds it was torn
as she saw my shadow
on the outhouse window.
There I got promptly caught
sooner than I had thought.
She came to sternly stand,
tightly held my yielded hand,
dragged me inside the house
before I could even grouse.
She put me in a coarse gunny,
filled my mouth with hot honey.
December 27, 2018
Contest : BUNNY JUMP
Sponsored by : Caren Krutsinger
There was this tough old Marine called Gunny.
Cussin' spewed from him like gurglin' honey.
He ran a very taut ship,
And nobody gave him lip,
'Cept his spouse who addressed him as 'Sonny'!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Blue-checkered curtains are faded and drawn,..
after the years since she made them from gunny-sack cloth
The Singer, long idle, now gathers more dust,
with its needle still threaded and the treadle at rest
As I clear out the room, I think of long hours
of foot-peddled power, and strength in her soul.
She would unroll the fabric of roses and flowers,
with determined resilience in dark circled eyes.
But prudence, endurance, would salvage a way
Abandoned and left in a sea of lost dreams
She picked up the pieces, of patterns and hems
Making a living, and raising her kin,
didn't come easy, but she had to win
A life left unraveled, she must sew up again.
Working past midnight. Spindles would spin. Somehow rekindled
to live once again.
Making ends meet. Selvedge edges and hems
Sowing her heart, sowing her skill, and sowing her soul
Sewn together again
______________________________________________________
4/20/18
Burlap and satin went to the dance
It was held at the old Fisher Barn
Burlap wore a fine Gunny sack
Adorned with a drawstring of yarn
Satin sported a shimmery weave
Trimmed with buttons of gold
The glossy attire was flawless
And was quite a sight to behold
Burlap took satin by the hand
And together they started to dance
When a stray strand of jute, caught satin’s suit
Burlap did not stand a chance.
Apologies followed
But the damage was done
Satins glossy ensemble
Had a permanent run.
Their dance quickly ended
Burlap was not Satins ilk
Burlap tangoed with Hemp
Satin went home with silk.
The moral of the story
And a material fact
Not all fabrics blend
Despite how they act
3/21/2018
Look at this new rear gunny,
his uniform sure fits funny
Are your sure, he’s one of us?
Put him at the back of the sub,
six decks below
Begging your pardon, Admiral,
that is where
she was assigned to go
Gunny has
top merit of her class
Torpedo ordinance expertise,
pure marksman target release
But I don’t like
the salute of his hand
It don’t look navy masculine
I care not for his name:
Natasha is Russian feminine
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