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
Categories:
gunny sack, america, humor, parody,
Form: Rhyme
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.
Categories:
gunny sack, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
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
Categories:
gunny sack, war,
Form: Rhyme
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.
Categories:
gunny sack, woman, women,
Form: Free verse
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
Categories:
gunny sack, courage, endurance, family, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
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
Categories:
gunny sack, humor,
Form: Rhyme
A barefoot boy on an old dirt road
Kicking dust up as he went
His lips all puckered, whistling a tune
He was happy and content
He carried a bucket by the bail
Had a cane pole on his back
And under his arm, all wrapped up tight
Was a burlap gunny sack
“Where are you going with all that stuff?”
I asked as he skipped on by
“I’m headed down to the Jack-Knife Creek
To catch Crawdads for a pie”
Categories:
gunny sack, childhood,
Form: Quatrain
A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls.
What now ? Do I attend the auction
of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust ?
The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub
to your culture when the fall of extremes
was overlapping the sunset of empire.
I am going to take my walk in the hell of fire
raging in petunias. The emotions are becoming
volatile after the rape of a child. Is there any
medicine for rape ? Nowhere on earth, the violence
stops moving shirtless. The dead century hangs
from the eyelashes, traces the dried up tears.
Some people think, bricks are weightier than
truth. They burn the buses under a weeping
willow. A high caste god will not glaze beyond
the frozen lake of crutches. Belongings on a
striped road vanish in books. A hate gift
drops on tulips.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
gunny sack, art,
Form: ABC
The storm clouds came rolling in across the autumn sky,
I was moved to dig a hole but didn’t know just why.
And as I finished squarin’ up the hole the rain came pouring down,
If someone were to fall in it there’s chance that they could drown.
Just about then an Indian on a horse approached me from the back,
The brave promised me a ten dollar coin if I’d bury his gunny sack.
What’s in the gunny? I asked of him before reaching for the coin,
The face he made was just as if I’d kicked him in his tender loin.
He hesitated for a minute and then said that it was totem pole,
He told me that it would fit perfectly inside my fresh dug hole.
It didn’t take me long to take the deal the hardest part was done,
I’d cover it up then ride into town for ten dollars worth of fun.
Then he lit out like a man possessed and it made me stop to think,
And his ghostly howls as he rode away made me thirsty for a drink?
So I looked inside the gunny sack and understood why I’d dug a grave,
Because the totem that I found inside was the body of the brave.
Categories:
gunny sack, adventure, cowboy-western, me, autumn,
Form: Cowboy Poetry
A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls.
What now ? Do I attend the auction
of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust ?
The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub
to your culture when the fall of extremes
was overlapping the sunset of empire.
I am going to take my walk in the hell of fire
raging in petunias. The emotions are becoming
volatile after the rape of a child. Is there any
medicine for rape ? Nowhere on earth, the violence
stops moving shirtless. The dead century hangs
from the eyelashes, traces the dried up tears.
Some people think, bricks are weightier than
truth. They burn the buses under a weeping
willow. A high caste god will not glaze beyond
the frozen lake of crutches. Belongings on a
striped road vanish in books. A hate gift
drops on tulips.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
gunny sack, art
Form: I do not know?
My Boyfriend is, the Cat’s Meow, a Fat Cat.
He stays Busy as a Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, think of that..
He says the way I look is like: “Two Tom Cats in a Gunny Sack”.
It’s Raining Cats and Dogs but we need a snack.
We were Busier Than a Three Legged Cat in a Sand Box,
but I opted to go for Bagels and Locks.
He Was On That Like a Pack of Dogs on a Three Legged Cat.
I kept thinking While the Cat’s Away the Mice Will Play.
When I got back he Looked Like the Cat who Swallowed the Canary,
He was Nervous as a Long Tailed Cat in a Room Full of Rockers.
Well, There’s More Ways to Kill a Cat than Choking it With Butter.
I got him busier than a One Eyed Cat Watching Two Mouse Holes.
Cat Got Your Tongue? I cooly extol.
When he finally Lets the Cat Out of the Bag,
I tell him to take his Alley Cat Morals and Scruples of a Snake,
and Quick as a Cat, vacate, don’t lag.
Take that Cheshire-Cat Smile and Walk His Last Mile.
© Apr 10 2010
Categories:
gunny sack, girlfriend-boyfriendcat, cat,
Form: Light Verse
Old tin roof, plastered adobe walls that were melting
Two big Cottonwood trees, junk cars in the back
Cracked concrete floor, covered with oil and grease
Mexican kids running in and out, playing and screaming
Couple of water jugs, covered with gunny sack
In all of this was some sort of peace
Joes Montes was the owner, we just called him Joe
Joe spoke good broken English, had a little accent
Talked a lot with his hands, pointing at this and that
Did not advertise, everyone knew Old Joe
Been there for years, did not pay any rent
Always wore a greasy cap, never wore a hat
Farmers up and down the valley swore by Joe
When a tractor was down, they knew who to call
Jump in his old truck and he was there
Been known to use bailing wire, he would make them go
Cotton pickers to a hale bailer, he worked on them all
Never charged much, was always fair
Adobe wall have melted, Joe has passed away
In that old shop where a lot of memories were made
No telling how many tractors Joe made run
Tractors now have computers, not in Joe's day
The Cottonwood trees make no more shade
Joe was a tractor fixing son of a gun
Categories:
gunny sack, peopleold, old,
Form: I do not know?
Oft times I find myself enraged and numb,
Experiencing days akin to more burnt toast.
And I, left feeling as a scraped off crumb,
Am always running full out,
No time to coast.
I am like a puppet and you are my puppet master,
I'm pulled about like a Western Flyer wagon.
You manipulate my strings to move me faster,
All the while you're snorting belly fire,
Like a Dragon.
The mere sight of you evokes thoughts anew,
That thought I, long ago to be at slumber.
You'd look fabulous in a gunny sack It's true,
Your outer beauty cannot be hidden,
You've my number.
If you were athirst I'd gladly be your spring,
If you desired shade I'd try to be your tree.
If you sought some expensive gift, that I'd bring,
Cut the strings that control my heart,
And set me free.
Categories:
gunny sack, allegory, devotion, friendship, love,
Form: Lyric