Here I sit at an intervention,
should'a knowed better, wasn't my intention.
It's almost like being at a wake,
with every tick the clock does make.
The mind truly is a magical place, look and see,
filled with both knowledge and wisdom which grows like a tree.
Knowledge is knowing there is both good and bad,
follow your own heart Instead of imitating the fad.
It's good to question yourself you know,
Here's a little bit of knowledge to help you grow.
When questioning self, Leave out the ole pity me,
it always gets in the way of our answers we need to see.
Interventions should be against the mind, from our own heart,
wisdom is finding the courage to finish what we start.
If you will let your heart Intervene and rule the thoughts in your mind,
a more peaceful, positive self in life you would find.
Can't help it, I'm a “go-er”
Know what I mean, I'm a “flamethrower”
Top of the heap
Guys act like sheep
Mo has the patent but long time I knowed her
in the good
old days
when
audiences
would
throw
such things
as tomatoes
and eggs
at the stage
at the per
son pre
forming
a proper
starving artist
would
give his
worst when
his
belly
grumbled
. for public domain
(after listening to Wolfmother Vagabond, rhythm lifted without permission)
The wind blows down the railroad track,
it blows on down the road.
The creek flows down the gully out back,
to where I never knowed.
I'm just sittin' on my own porch swing,
sippin' wine.
I'm just grinnin' on my old porch swing,
feelin' fine.
I'm just sinnin' on the old porch swing,
passin' time.
I got my house, I got my dog,
I got my blue suede shoes.
Pitless cherry in a cherry pie,
no cause to light my fuse.
I'm just sittin' on my own porch swing,
sippin' wine.
I'm just grinnin' on my old porch swing,
feelin' fine.
I'm just sinnin' on the old porch swing,
passin' time.
The sun is way up in the sky,
the moon is up there too.
and if you've got a mind for fun,
I singin' this with you.
We're just sittin' on an own porch swing,
sippin' wine.
We're just grinnin' on an old porch swing,
feelin' fine.
We're just sinnin' on an old porch swing,
passin' time.
Hamlet's story
is sad and gory.
From the start the outlook's bad.
The king, i.e. Hamlet's dad,
got bumped off by his loving brother,
who then had the nerve to wed Ham's mother.
One night Hamlet met his old man's ghost,
who said: "My son, while I here roast,
your uncle, who murdered me,
is having a rave-up for all to see."
He added, "I 've got a job for you, my lad,
"Do to 'im what he done to your dad."
But Hamlet never decisively acted,
by doubt and scruples got distracted.
So as he dithered
things slithered
till everyone got killed , alas,
'cept for Horatio and Fortinbras.
Goethe's Faust Part One
is all about this horny don,
who gets browned off by all that learning,
for all he's missed in life much yearning.
Mephisto, you might say the devil,
promises Faust a helluva revel,
on one (see the small print) slight condition,
After the party it's straight to perdition.
Then prancing witches chant "hubble bubble",
Faust goes and gets his gal into trouble.
(Faust may have knowed an awful lot,
but on birth control he weren't too hot).
Things get so bad it can't be true
They perk up a bit, though, in Faust Part Two
If there's one thing
my parents knowed:
It was we had
a moral code.
Though mighty poor,
we behaved rich.
With manners taught
o'er a hickory switch.
At the table,
or sittin' on pews,
We sure as heck
knowed t'follow the rules.
Stealin ' and lyin'
just weren't a choice.
Nor cheatin' and fightin'
or raisin' our voice.
The children today're
no better or worse.
Though they might shout
And they might curse.
And though they might
have gone out and lied.
Fact is folks,
morals never have died.
Thankfully...
morals
never have
died.
A Jealous Filly
He walked up to the gate
Pa said you're kinda late
The last time I seen you you was ridin'
He said well I got throwed
I guess I shoulda knowed
That filly's got feelin's she's been hidin'
I rode down in the draw
To see a colt I saw
Last week when I was checkin' out the stock
She's a chestnut beauty
More than just a cutie
She's hangin' out beneath that painted rock
I looked into her eye
An' I said my oh my
That's when my filly balked an' came unstuck
First it was a snuffle
That became a shuffle
Then a roarin', snortin', genuine buck
I lasted about three
'Til she was shed of me
An' I was gettin' ready for a hike
Well let me tell you son -
You get girls more than one -
It's bound to end in somethin' you don't like
Pa began to chuckle
Jiggled his belt buckle
Said you have learned a lesson for your files.
I said I guess that's true
I hope to learn a few
That don't require a walk of sev'ral miles
4/25/2016
I once knowed a poet named Jerden
Who ain't atall stuck on his wordin'
If they judge 'em unsound
He may nudge 'em around
And don't atall find it a burden
February 24, 2016
Well they done took away ma pension
whilst I waren’t payin no tention.
Never thought thet thar could happen,
Seems ma face they keep a slappin'.
Ah trusted all them folk thet said ah could,
ah took their word like they sed ah should,
but now ah see they jest a bunch a thieves,
Take all ya got and knock ya to yer knees.
Use ta was be you could tell a liar,
plain’s ya could the town crier,
Now they got sneakier ways,
from lots a practice these days.
Them banks and the government’s in cahoots.
Reckon they standin’ in each others boots.
Whisht ah’d a knowed they wuz gonna play those games
Ah’d a set much lower aims.. maybe like …Jesse James.
Done asked a lawyer onced bout business and ethics.
He laughed and said “Bob, business and ethics don’t mix!”
Never heered anybody say that right out loud…
Still laughin’ at me,.. he walked away proud.
Yep, maybe I’d a set much lower aims…
Reckon I’d a understood… Jesse James.
You're everything I wanted
Everything I need
You are so beautiful to me.
Joe Cocker
She was a scruffy little thing
An undernourished, pale wisp of a child
Never quite recovered from two bouts of pneumonia
Before she was a year and a half old.
Her mommy said,
"I never knowed she was sick til the neighbor told me
To take her to the doctor."
Her face was always dirty
And her white hair looked as if
She had stuck her tiny finger into an electrical outlet.
She cried continuously for her mommy,
Who had not bothered to wean her from the breast
Before sending her to the free day care across the street.
I looked, and found, deep inside this fragile waif
An inner strength and beauty
And for the first time in my life, I knew
The true meaning of love.
POST HALLOWEEN
I’m a talkin’ bout them trick-er-treeters last night!
Dang kids cum up on tha porch –
Cum by the bus-loads
Up on tha dang porch!
“Trick er treet!”
Them dang squealee little voices!
Don’t trust none on ‘em
While maw’s a passin’ out nuts ‘n apples ‘n candee ‘n
stuff
I’m ridin’ shotgun a sittin’ on tha porch swing
I’m talkin’ bout a genyouwine 12 gage babee!
Oh it’s not a couple extree candees i’m wurreed bout
It’s them dang Jones twins
Honriest kids ever
An ya caint tell ‘em with the masks ‘n all
Weel tha brats knowed some better ‘n ta come
beggin’ on our porch last night
but this mawrnin whin I waked up look out tha winder
At first I thunk it snowed durin’ tha night
Nope!
Twas a charmin sight
Bout fifty rolls
Hank hired on fer a dollar a day an' found.
He wuz knowed as th' best bronc buster around.
They wuz allus a roll-yer-own a-danglin' frum his lips,
An' he wore his jeans an' chaps low on his hips!
He wuz lean an' lank an' had spent years in th' saddle,
As bow-legged as pliers, spending so much time astraddle!
Wearin' an ol' slouch hat an' well-worn boots,
He'd rode many a wild bronc out uv rodeo chutes!
"Thar stands th' orn'riest critter alive!" th' boss implied.
"Thar ain't no mustang 'round I cain't tame!" Hank replied.
Other cowpokes ambled to th' corral to enjoy th' show,
An' with knowin' grins watched Hank earn his dough!
Th' bronc jes stood there snortin' with fire in his eyes.
Hank could see trouble! Boys, wuz he in fer a su'prise!
Sech hossflesh he'd never rode! He'd never seen sech gyrations!
His ol' bones had never experienced sech sensations!
He wuz throwed, stomped an' wedged agin' th' fence.
With his pals cheerin' him on an' things a-gittin' tense,
He 'lowed, "Boys, I give up! He's beat me good!
I reckon I'd better find myself anuther livelihood!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Through all the years of ranchin’;
The hardships, bumps and lies—
There’s some things you don’t like
And lots of things you plum despise.
But of the things that irk you,
Like landin’ in cow pies—
The thing you hate the most
Is when your horse rolls back her eyes!
You knowed that you done pissed her—
You best done step aside
Or that hoss will kick you
And tramp all over your poor hide!
‘Spose that hoss is like your gal;
They both can make ya cries—
By kickin’ hearts and butts
When they roll back them big ol’ eyes!
1111… he says, more fun.
And last year already,
I gave him the One.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
To remember in November is the way to play…
Row row, row your boat,
Gently up a stream…
Wilson rowed, and so he knowed
And said it was like a dream…
Madison, you said, more fun…
So Grover’s clover came undone,
And Willami, the honeybee…
Well, just so you know…
SHE, played nic nac paddy wac
And when Ben got back…
A wish was Granted.
Four fun…
is just what the doctor ordered.
Jackson came and the fun began…
In thanks again,
Linkcoln brought a Ham.
George ol boy… great game today!
Come join the fun, bring along TJ!
So the fun began and the boys played ball…
The sun shined bright,
There were smiles on them all.
A Great game it was!
The ball bounced and whirled,
aTeam focused to score…
And then along came a girl.
Odd little thing… they stared in doubt.
Scratching their heads and looking about…
She wants to play?
Is that what she,
what she has to say…?
Rockin’ on her heels
And swaying back, two fours…
She Looked at them all,
And she said, “Of course”!
You know that you’re old as dirt
When ever thang done hurt—
And you trades a cane for quirt
‘Cause you’s too old to flirt.
And when you have to trim hairs
From your nose and your ears—
You done knowed those creepin’ years
Has justified your fears!
It ain’t that you’s gittin’ old
Or Father Time is bold
Or that last crow has done crowed,
It’s jest sittin’ till ya mold!
Old sport, jest what’s the matter?
You ain’t no mad hatter—
You ain’t old, that’s jest blather—
You is jest gittin’ better!
But if time comes a knockin’,
Don’t let it be shockin’—
Don’t with yer tack go hockin’,
You’s jest rollin’, not rockin’!
So when you lose all yer friends
And seems life never ends—
You’ll know ya ain’t on the mends
When ya end up in Depends!
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