Long In the south Poems
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Hi biscuit, you’re mighty and cute
So acute in hearing that I’m spearing fruit
Perhaps you didn’t know, I’ve lived in the South…too.
Entertained a name in the halls of high school
I thought it was cool, even back then
We were Rebels
Trivial this trivia of mine
Confuses many versed in sublime
My Confucius IS confusing
As are my rhymes butt
So what if they are
They’re just in my mind
Xposing me in a Leonine wind
(out of the skillet and into the…?)
bhindi, also know as a gem
... we banter in Bantu, know?... KinGumbo?
Layers of players in a game of purr suits
and sLayer the Dragon thought I said suite
So he booked a room and waited for treats
meanwhile…
Derelicts were there as centurion scribes
Bricks they made while recording tribes
Bows they carried low and to the side
... On a long coarse
I watched the hoarse-men ride.
Primus asked and the filly said hey…
Ask again in the proper way
Cute doesn’t cut it, the Cupid had to say.
Especially, if the gravy is grey.
”...oh look Vincent, it’s your lobe dear…” ;)
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this is written in reply, to someone's reply.
it might not make sense but I hope you enjoy :) x
Form:
She had cats
she had a top-floor flat
in the south of London
where there are breathable spaces.
The cats claimed their own spaces
and guarded every inch of them.
She was a practicing witch
she had all the gear, conical hat, wand, black eye-paint
but was still practicing, spiritually inclined
but not too smart.
Candles and incense littered the edge of the bed
I checked for pentagrams and was relieved
to find none.
Despite all these eccentric foibles
a young man can overlook them all
if need insists.
She was a real beauty.
I more or less jumped onto her willing nakedness.
I thought the scratches I felt on my back
were from her own purple fingernails,
but no,
I was being attacked by angry hissing cats.
Thus to this very day
I cannot morally endorse any sex with animals.
Son, I'm so proud that you elected to serve in the United States Marines.
Military service is a family tradition - it just happens to be in our genes!
Your forefathers have worn the uniform since the genesis of this nation.
All were privileged to serve, feeling that it was their solemn obligation!
One of your distant relatives served as a lieutenant in The Revolution.
He lost an arm at Brandywine to boost this nation's glorious evolution!
A soldier on your mother's side was a sergeant in the Battle of New Orleans.
In letters he told of subsisting on meager rations of rancid pork and beans!
A grandfather shouldered a musket in the Mexican War affair.
Another, a corporal of cavalry in the Union Army served with elegant flair!
In the Spanish-American fray, one of your kin charged up San Juan Hill.
Your great grandpa led a platoon in World War One with consummate skill!
Your granddad was a fighter pilot in the South Pacific and became an ace,
And he later soared as an astronaut through the vast reaches of space!
I was privileged to serve as an army chaplain during the Korean War.
Your Aunt Sarah served with distinction in Viet Nam with the Nurses Corps!
So, you see son, you have a distinguished heritage upon which to build,
Serving all humankind to ensure that our quest for liberty is fulfilled!
Godspeed, Marine! Here's my old wartime copy of the Twenty-Third Psalm.
When assailed from all sides, it will provide you with great solace and calm!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Gail Doyle's "Writing A Heartfelt Poem To A Soldier" Contest
July 2012
My heart waits for you so that our dreams can come true .
My heart aches for you, so remove the guard so that I can be with you
Days have passed and I kept working like a horse, cleaning the barn
Emptying garbage bins and meddling in the dirt oh what a terrible sin
I did not go to school to become a Janitor, but I became one over night
I also spend hours working my brain working with my intuitive mind and the spiritual oracle that originates from the divine.
My heart aches for you when no one is there to watch my back, my heart aches for you when no one is there to buy me a new frock.
Sometimes the days turn cold and I can feel you wrapped up into my soul with just a tiny touch of heat to warm your cold feet. It’s the kind of courage that we share that kept us floating in the air and when the weather is fine, I usually get what is mine.
The road is extremely long and the curves and turns are singing a wonderful song, the guitars strings are strumming and the people are marching on. The work is not yet done so I have to continue this journey until the battle is won.
I have to change directions, angle, and dimension and make the circumference bold and the dividing line whole; you must multiply the radius by two to get the diameter that is true, and then multiply the result by three point one four for a good estimate before you walk through the door.
I have to work with some new people and a new set to obtain some physical and spiritual depth. The location is metastasized with anger, hate and greed and the bald eagle is strangling the sisters and they cannot breathe .
I have to change location to get variety and a better proportion; I have to close in on the inner world with a linear distance and the radius pulling from the center or the sphere intersecting on something that is dear to complete the formula.
My heart is waiting for you to share the story of an unseen glory and ride with the wind in the south and break the wings of the North without a doubt.
My heart waits for you to complete this battle, and when it is done we will publish it and stand on the mountain top and shout with all that we have got
The birds will come raining in the sky for every direction and my heart will be pleased. I will hold your hands and embrace with thee. My heart aches for you.
Merrie Melodies is coming on, and I am glued to the set
Hoping my favorite will be featured today, for I’ve placed a bet
Channeling my spirit guides, I hope to see Pepe Le Pew.
He is the best cartoon since the sixties, and it’s twenty and two.
This amorous French skunk, known as a polecat down in the south
With streak of affection that places kisses all over target’s sweet mouth
Dashes onto the screen, in pursuit of startled Penelope Pussy Cat.
Runs for her life, but she slows down a bit, due to corpulent fat.
Pepe Le Pew, Warner Brother’s most romantic cartoon ever made.
Sweeps her up and holds her tenderly against him, a daring blade.
She tries to show him that she’s not a skunk, she is actually a cat.
But he is too busy crooning love songs to care about that.
I watch in amazement as he catches her time after time.
Daring to love her, because he is Romeo, gallant and sublime.
She gets away, but is readily replaced with a frisky skunk girl.
They kiss in the moonlight, as his love, he doth slowly unfurl.
Sheltered in the south of the south,
its culture breathed out the dance of love to the world.
Once established,
as the historic natural park for gigantic dinosaurs
with the earth’s tail attached to its field
and a familiar friend to continental extremities
both in elevations and in the measure of cold and heat.
Even with its tender voice and closed influence
its hands have contributed
to the beautiful jewelries of the globe’s spark.
The first scores of Cristiani’s animation
and pioneering crime’s neck breaker
through the Axe of finger-printing;
also a well watered green yard for cosmetic manipulations
but yet marred with Anorexia and battles of the mind.
So much flowers with few thorns
classify this blessed home with sons like Diego and Lionel.
Born with beauty all over her face
Trim to fit leather and lace
Always attractive with her new looks
Catching her prey with her sexy sharp hooks
Green was the color she held in her purse
Men in suits would burden her curse
Whatever she wanted she got with her sass
And what helped her to get things was her shapely round ass
But all in due time her world came and crashed
Her house and her riches got mangled and mashed
Her ex came out swinging with the law in his hand
The lawman he was made sure she got canned
Thrown behind bars by the lies from his mouth
A Redneck Hill Billie raised in the south
That face of beauty turned fragile and frail
When she finally got out of that filthy slum jail
Battered and broken is now her new look
All from the badge of that Hill Billie crook
I'm the owner of a large plantation
From generations has been passed down
On my property, close to a hundred slaves
Need I mention it's in the South
My slaves all know their place
Though I know they all love me
Cause I don't beat them when I want
I just beat them when I need, tied to the Whipping Tree
Lately I've heard the slaves a whispering
There's definitely something going on
I'm pretty sure I know what it is
My birthday's soon to come
They must be planing for me a party
I'll act surprised when that day comes
They fall all over themselves to please me
Not just because I'm the one that holds the gun
So here it is my birthday
I awake looking for my help
They are nowhere to be seen
Who's going to run my bath for me, I can't do this for myself
Then it is that I remember
About my big birthday surprise
I run expectantly out to the front yard
But find nobody in sight
So I head down to their one room shack
Where they all sleep on the cold dirt floor
Readying myself for my birthday surprise
I swing wide the wooden front door
I see no cake, they sing me no song
The surprise they have for me
Is the noose they throw around my screaming neck
As they hang me from the whipping tree
When It Is Winter
Whence from shine the seasons to whom and to where
High on snow peaked mountains sits the Buddha under a fir tree
Exalted warm in the glow of change and stillness he mediates
Never ending contradictions assembles frost transcends right there
In the heat of the desert Northern lights shed their guidance
To similar truth’s complementation seek meaningful sense
In abandon vast perception’s years cycle from our point of views
Swift within and without riches and scrap heaps of dissimilar hues
When periods swell and spell interchange across planets and orbit
In constant revolution vison blind folded deceptions and ruses
No one come high tides water or drought can simply absorb it
The winter is summer as spring turns to autumn and perspective
Emerges in harmony when my lights in the South levitate from
Reclusion where wise humans freeze sweat which is highly subjective
My mother thinks I'm a doctor
I just don't have the guts
To tell her I spent all my college doe
On beer, wine, women and such
So after I faked my graduation
Said I was moving to the South
To help the less fortunate among us
Another lie I let slip out
I'm now in the south of Florida
Where some may call me a bum
Living in a citrus grove along the coast
Not answering to anyone
It's really not such a bad life
This do nothing life I've made
I hear my Moms proud of me at afternoon tea
Telling the girls of all the lives I save
I do my share of dumpster diving
That's where I got the idea
Behind a real doctors office one day
With some of their stationary I nabbed
I did a little doctoring
After all I do play one in Moms mind
Doesn't look to lame where I inserted my name
Then wrote my Mom about the kids and the wife
I've created such an elaborate charade
It's now gotten all out of hand
As I panhandle my way up and down
The Sunshine states surf and sand
Mom now says she wants to visit
Can't wait to meet the wife and kids
Don't know how I let it get this crazy
And how it all lead up to this
Now I'm scrambling to find a vacant house and a woman
With a couple of kids that look just like me
That can go along with a ruse for a week in mid-June
Since I told her that's when I'd be free
I'm thinking I should of studied in college
Instead of being this mind numbing huckster
Telling lie after deepening lie
Just so my Mother would think I'm a doctor