Life can so often be unexpectedly amusing
Perhaps not so if you are into self abusing
Today its five am with headlight I'm on my usual daily run
I encounter a well dressed tall man a white shirt adorns his back
he rides a pushbike which is parked in a bicycle rack
I notice what I assume to be a cigarette is held within his hand
He gestures toward me It takes a moment before i understand
Would you like a puiff at first I thought him drunk
I realise its dope. No thank you I'm not into inhaling junk
Have you never ever tried he says . No
Me with long white hair and beard barefoot he says you look like you do
Too many words and syllables now to form a monoku
I also tell him I don't drink alcohol coffee only eat food raw
Whats your age he says Seventy eight
You're looking good quite impressed with what he saw
Now this is not the first time that I have encountered
due to my appearance this assumption you look like you do
Tapped on the shoulder from behind many years ago
Where do we get some hooch in this town we're new
She walks with a stagger
Her breath reeks of hooch
He lies upon the street
With his way, advertising, "I'm a mooch"
She walks among the elite
Being extremely discrete
He struts with names and titles
Careful to keep a tight rein on the bridle
They have tried for years
But all attempts drench them in tears
They have a gaggle of offspring
But for whatever reason, he won't give a ring
Crowds of people gather at the square
Waging war against behaviors of men
Now that the veil has lifted
You better look again
They have company!!!
Blood oaths, hidden agreements
At a table made of sand
LOVE is seated at the head
And grace is holding our hand
Stand firm, oh stout of heart
Let purity cleanse and fire purify
Many will fall away to fear
But LOVE wins because it never dies
Written by Trudy Schrader on 11-29-2025
The trails of fog like cold entrails
that wind and slither through the copse
which shiver at the touch and sops.
A chance at vision clearly fails.
Each jutting rock: a sentinel.
A greying headstone stands alone
against the tones of verdant cone.
My heartbeat sounds like a death knell.
A silver coffin bell from ditch.
As I am trying t’ place the hums;
direction clear from whence it comes
in variant beseeching pitch.
A hand that reaches up from grave
implores me for small change to buy
a warming nip of hooch as I
surrender will at being brave.
There was Red Dawn and
Crocodile Dundee.
Full House and
The Lottery.
Road Runner and
G.I. Joe.
The Lost Boys and
Cameo.
The TMNT and
Silver Hawk.
Duck Tales and
Fraggle Rock.
Family Ties and
Growing Pains.
Pretty in Pink and
Purple Rain.
Risky business and
Young guns.
Breakfast club and
Empire of the sun.
Three's a crowd and
Stand by me.
Honky Tonking and
Human League.
He-man and
Ghost Busters.
Heathcliff and
Mario's brothers.
There was Full House
And Hairspray.
Scarface and
Expose.
Dirty Dancing and
Turner and Hooch.
Bosom Buddies and
Beetlejuice.
Madonna and
Knight Rider.
Prince and
Macgyver.
Night court and
Silver Spoons.
Flash dance
And Dune.
Fast times at
Ridgemont high.
The A-Team
And 9 to 5.
Turbo1904 ?
I really honor Elizabeth Dole foundation
what it really means to be a caregiver
I'm the caregiver of my husband's
memories now ipte y wn anxieties
all 101 airborne west Mooreland
my husband is indeed a hero he was
captured a pow Vietnam he was placed
in what they call a hooch he and four other
troops managed to escape set out searching
for other pow's they went in and found senator
John mccain with tears in his eyes he describes
how broken and brave John was he referred
to him as his brother who couldn't walk the four
men carried him out he describes a cage with rage
not as glamorous as the hooch a hut infested
where he was stored the four men rescued
John who was flighted out the four men stayed
on their post starvation and draught the water
contaminated three men refused to drink the crater
water meaning water standing in left over bombs
my husband drank the crater water the three others died
that night from dehydration my husband survived
only by drinking contaminated water suffering
tremendously today my granddaughter has orders
to Kuwait in deep prayers I anticipate the upcoming date
Oh, mommy and daddy, please hear my plea
Don't sit your children on Santa Claus' knee
He's too touchy feely
Eyes are hard and steely
He's soused from too many a martini
I hate to call ol' Saint Nick a boozer
But to tell the truth, he's just a loser
Soused more than a tiddly
He's not worth a diddly
Too much hooch turns him into a schmoozer
Christmas tree. Decorated Christmas tree...
On your green branches, don't let Santa pee
He gets a bit foggy
Thinking he's a doggy
He'll lift a leg and expose his peewee
Peiter de Hooch of whom we know not much
yet his courtyard art had the quality touch
His work so carefully designed
sadly to die out of his mind
When a bald eagle is soaring high above the canyon rim
Those old wives tales will make their rounds like homemade hooch
Mountain folks saying our union is strong and watching over us
written September 26, 2021
Last call, last call, my friend.
This is another night at an end.
The beer, wine, and whiskey have to stop their flow.
It is almost time to close and we have to go.
I hope for tonight, you have enjoyed yourself.
Now we have to leave the bottles of hooch on the shelf.
You were someone we were so happy to serve and see.
Now we have to ask you to drive home carefully.
You're wearing a beautiful designer dress tonight.
No doubt some men here think you're a delight.
However, your head is starting to spin in a ring.
It looks as if you've had too much of a good thing.
You're headed to a state that may be embarrassing.
That hundred proof hooch is pretty potent stuff.
Anybody here can tell that you've had enough.
You will look like a first-class fool
if you happen to fall off that stool.
I will take you home and give you this warning:
Be prepared to feel quite sick tomorrow morning.
It was January '68
Chapter 1 - arrival
by Franklin Price
2/13/2019
It was January '68
The place was Cam Ranh Bay
The embattled country, Vietnam
Home's half a world away
Had not a clue what to expect
As I left the freedom plane
Return was one long year away
Quite an adjustment for my brain
The Air Force was my service branch
Nav-Aids my specialty
Was in since 1965
Pounding the ground was not to be
Processing in was just a blur
This place was new to me
The sun was blinding off white sand
That was everywhere to see
Somehow got to the squadron
To the place I'd lay my head
To a hooch with canvas roof
Where a cot would be my bed
Of course no air conditioning
Had to contend with tropic clime
Was glad was raised in Florida
Had no AC any time
Soon found there were cold showers
No hot water to be found
A six seater for a ter
No flushing toilets were around
No hole, as with an outhouse,
Half drums caught the downward bound
When full, burned with jet fuel
And spread the ashes on the ground
485th GEEIA was my squadron
Could not wait for TDY
Nothing to do when home at Cam Ranh
But rake the sand and wonder why
Today we say goodbye to jill
This surely is a bitter pill
A lively lady full of the beans
A cruel world so it seems
A kind hearted lady with lots of love
On her final journey up above
A mother of 4 to say the least
Head of the table at the feast
Witty, funny and caring to all
Enjoy life at the angels ball
Now all the pain you had has gone
Dance with the stars go on go on
A rainbow queen that you were
Brighter than bright what I hear
Life like dolls being your passion
Keeping them into fashion
Other things I know you love
Your grandchildren and daughters above
We'll all miss your thoughtfulness
Even things that made us blush
Your best friend feebie was your pooch
But definitely not Turner and hooch
Pampered dog with plenty of coats
Miss you on the rainbow floats
So look over us from up there
We all know you do care
When we want reasons why
We will just look up to the sky
Thankyou mum, granny for being you
Now you've gone we are all blue
Wish we could feel your gentle touch
We LOVE and MISS you so so much
Jail Bird
Clyde Gooch
Liked hooch
Got smashed
Wife bashed
Clyde bluffed
Cops cuffed
In jail
No bail
Plea made
Fine paid
Judge says
Ten days
Wife smirked
Clyde irked
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
A severe thunderstorm is currently passing through
Our Golden is hiding behind my LA-Z-BOY on queue
A scared-y-cat pooch
Needs some hooch
To help her get through without dropping a poo!
The disco, the night, the stance and the pose,
The dance in the rainbow of lights.
And the bad boys that stand just watching bad girls,
Bad girls who’re wearing black tights.
No talking inside, nothing said or expressed,
Primal ears thumped out to a beat.
People connect, advertising their motives,
Motives consumed by people on heat.
And there’s others that zone, in their own little world,
Their bubble designed on a tune.
These people dance and sway their own inner self,
Sailing their own little boat on the moon.
With the drugs and the shots, the whisky and rum,
And the juice, hooch, vino, and sauced Mary Jane.
It’s all on display every night at the disco,
A night where people go to be that insane.
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