Long Chew the fat Poems
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The wonders of the Cell Phone
By Franklin Price
6/12/2016
The wonders of the cell phone,
If you can call it that,
Are miraculous and myriad
Not just there to chew the fat.
Can make a call, or text a friend,
Take a picture of a moose,
Play games, pay bills and find your way.
Buy most anything you choose
The side effects are many
On society as a whole
No face to face required
Seems to be the high tech goal
If you're a little curious
And need to see the one you call
Just face time and you'll look at them;
Now doesn't that just solve it all?
Better yet, when you decide
That it is time to go,
Just say goodbye and tap to end
And you can make it so.
Lame excuses not required
Amenities not on the floor
A simple cell phone function
And it's goodbye and out the door
There is one thing that I suggest
Before I end this tout.
Take some time to visit personally
That's what life should be about.
I said to Xavier, "Tell me what's up".
He said, "Nuthin'" and I said, "Yup".
It didn't seem like much of a conversation.
So, I said, "You'll have to excuse
me, but tell me somethin' I can use.
I'm looking for some good information".
Xavier said, "Son, it's all in a name,
and I'm awfully glad you came.
Sit down, and listen up".
Xavier wasn't known for his coffee brew,
but I said, "Sure, but may I ask you
for a cup?"
"When your name is announced,
it's best if it can't be pronounced.
Does it start with X or Z?,
And whatever kind of name you got
pick one that goes well with Cugat -
that's what I call poetry."
The minute I finished that coffee cup,
I cracked my knuckles and I stood up,
saying, "It's been a pleasure."
You might be surprised to hear
that conversation made my life clear...
helpful beyond measure.
Now, I understand, it's not the name.
A man or book is just the same
underneath its cover.
And while Xavier told me the opposite,
I've always felt he's full of "sh**".
That's what I'd discover.
And there's something else I found out
when we drank beer and caught some trout -
I hope he doesn't hold a grudge.
That guy who shoots off his mouth like that
every time we chew the fat?
His real name is Justin Smudge.
Do You Like what You Are Seeing
By Franklin Price
7/19/2016
Do you like what you are seeing,
In the world in which we live?
Do you only talk about it
When there's something you could give?
Do you keep up with the slanted news?
Maybe truth with more than more than two
Or surf the net to find someone
Who thinks the same as you?
Is your mind closed as in Washington?
Does your brain think such as that?
Do you chase a goat named Judas
To a place to chew the fat?
If you think that all is wonderful
That the world just works that way
You're contributing to the problems
That are in the world today
32 have taken their own lives.
Leaving behind, children, friends and wives
How much longer is this to go on
Devastating families is totally wrong
No person should get to this state
When they could just chat to a mate
Asking for help is not a sign of weakness
It's about sharing your bleakness
Other ways to cope with this mess
Admit that you are in distress
Learn about breathing, and using your senses
This will strengthen your defences
That black dog that sits on your shoulder
Let it know you were a soldier
You are strong and can't be beat
You are not ready for defeat
My ask is that everyone shares
To show all affected somebody cares
This is not a massive ask
Go and see them take a flask
Sit down with a listening ear
Let them know you are here
Have a chat and make a brew
Chew the fat like you use too
Being beside them is really great
The true meaning of a mate
If you do this simple thing
You could stop heavens bar-bell ring
The guests have come and gone, now back to the old routine.
We showed them all the tourist spots, partook of local cuisine;
Put many miles on the old sedan and spent a ton of dough!
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!
My bedtime is off kilter, they want to stay up and chew the fat.
Their visit even upset the routine of my inscrutable cat!
My spouse jolts me awake nudging me 'neath the table with her toe!
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!
Surprise! Surprise! They showed up with their yapping cur.
Consternation reigned when he saw the cat, causing quite a stir!
On the priceless Persian carpet, he let his water freely flow!
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!
Come time to pay for luncheon, we each try to out-shuffle,
Who will pick up the tab without causing a frightful scuffle!
Invariably, we end up sharing the total amount we owe.
Sure was nice to see them come, better yet to see them go!
Tho' this was written entirely with my acerbic tongue in cheek,
I love having guests (as long as they stay within a week!).
Tho' some of my habitual modus operandi I must forego,
Sure is nice to have them come, better yet to see them go!
Defined By Idioms
Naked truth, bent nails
dead men tell no tales
bad Apple, broken mirrors
burnt out light bulbs, crocodile tears
spilt milk, goose chase
two cents worth, rat race
rotten egg, bad to the bone
eagle eye, no place like home.
bat from hell,
pulled punch
big cheese,
no free lunch
can of worms, bleeding heart
knock on wood,
till death do us part
bite the bullet, checkered past
good as gold,
last laugh
burning bridges,
ball of wax
hold your horses start from scratch
wooden nickels ace up your sleeve
hair of the dog
all Greek to me
axe to grind
behind the eight ball
bigger they are
the harder they fall
jack of all trades cat's got your tongue
fair weathered friend
like father like son
small world
on thin ice
speak of the Devil roll of the dice
blood's thicker than water
lie like a rug
dime a dozen
when push comes to shove
dog eared pages
eye for an eye
bury the hatchet how time flies clean as a whistle C
chew the fat
crime doesn't pay. cover my ass
throw me under the bus gentle as a lamb
cold shoulder
hit the fan
buyer beware
woman's work never done
never say never
takes one to know one
come Hell or high water
pissing in the wind
pretty as a picture through thick and thin
beat a dead horse pass the buck
whole nine yards down on my luck
life’s a
don't rock boat
needless to say
go for broke
My life is the sum of trite cliches
Jaded expressions
so worthless so worn
I couldn't give it away
Times photo
First shot you're in the stomach. The ultimate invasion sits upon the blind tails of a used clock. The winding roads and cement sidewalk plead from the usual birds of sunrise.
The second shot is your birth, capturing the fake and bold who have never understood why they exist but by the grand arrival of the only one who has no unedited side reason for being there. Earth doesn't stop, and the dead still get buried. Cold, in pain, and cut from comfort.
The third shot is your 1st birthday, the only reason to get ed up. At an offsprings occasion, why not throw gas on a fire? Why not sink into the fun? Chew the fat with those you need not see again. Host to those who can't afford to give but only receive. The last and final shot is when you fall the end happens slowly, the only shot that doesn't become a blur where you can ignore the heart of the empty pit you once return to.
There's a sickness that is spreading
Take cover cause it is heading
Toward you in a sweeping motion
Causing a big huge commotion
Confusing all of human kind
Turning wheels in their mind
Because they have never known
What this new action has shown
It is easy and not hard
So please just let down your guard
And follow what I have to say
It can be done every day
Let a happy smile through
To someone who might be blue
Lend an ear to someone that
Might just want to chew the fat
Extend a hand so someone can
Get back on their feet again
Shoulders are a resting place
For a crying and sad face
It is free to show someone
That you care It can be done
Morning, afternoon and night
Go ahead, turn on the light
To others so it can spark
Someones way out of the dark
Is there a place in heaven
Where old deckies muster
A sheltered safe haven away
From any wild storm's bluster
From sail to steam to diesel
United one and all
By the harvesting of the sea
And the handling of the trawl.
Do the different generations
Mingle to chat about the life
United by the fishing and
The razored gutting knife
Do the three day millionaires
In their bell bottomed trews
Their slim Jim ties
Their brothel creeper shoes
Mix with the fishermen
Of all the fishing nations
Is it an easy mix of
Fishing's generations.
Do they observe a silence
When the latest vessel sinks
Welcome new brothers with
Heavenly ambrosiac drinks.
Is their a deckies heaven
For those who paid the cost
For those quiet heroes counted
Amongst fishing's lives lost.
Do they gather in their thousands
To chew the fat about it all
Do they relive their memories
Of the following of the trawl.
Is there a place in heaven
Where old deckies muster
A sheltered safe haven away
From any wild storm's bluster
Mama's Golden Pond Cried
Mama loved to chew
off the Golden Pond
bone
chew the fat
of their autumn leaves,
dressed in splendor,
a scenic lake and cabin,
her pseudo stage,
of her new found barbies,
smiling at her
smile they did
so minted the american dream,
their lives golden.
These.
These
pocketed keepsakes she kept
next to the chip
on her shoulder.
Yet her music plays
ill forgotten lore and simile
of her family and children,
scruffy unkempt dogs
she never proud,
she drummed over and over,
her catch phrase.
We watched the movie
long ago,
in her element,
in her tempo,
bated breath,
tears falling
and detached.
Yet her music plays
so content
and spawning such a fondness
in her heart,
of them rowing a boat,
aging, golden.
Yet her music plays
sadly
in her heart
of emptiness
at home
dying,
lifeless grey eyes.
Yet, so steely
her song
snow blind of her son
sitting next to her
in the darkening theater,
her wintry chill,
so indigenous,
taking life hostage.
Just my child
her teeth
chattering
to piano keys
playing,
playing in her concerto
dancing on golden pond...
such a waste her lips mimed.
Her keys.
And mine sink low.
... Just my child
she sat akimbo,
in silhouette,
tears I imagine,
and her voice
... and her voice
once icy then
now a scar,
a ghost,
... scruffy come here.
connie pachecho
6/30/17