Long Old boy Poems
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SUDDENLY SOMETHING
Have you ever spent a night in a six by ten foot cell?
Well that’s where my FESTERING fears dwell
And no one with a prescription pad will write for a junkie born and bred
Did you ever wish more earth dwellers would all suddenly be dead
Look, there’s a pretty little miss, oh it’s daddy’s little girl
She dances on my feet when she starts to whirl
I told her to hold down her pleated skirt when she begins to twirl
My little girl with a smile and every tooth a perfect pearl
In silent supplication I’d sneak up to hear her prayer for that eve
I just wanted to hear daddy’s little girl pray and then I would leave
First she blessed the Almighty, his spirit and his soul
Making prayers come true was her sole and only goal
It could be a league of angels advising her on the right thing to do
Or sprites to make all things look like new
It might be little singing stars, from above came they for you
So your daughter can ignore an errant and off key dove pleased not to coo
She looks completely comfortable in a cloak and coat of cashmere
S**t, I’d trade an arm for her body no matter what she may wear
Whatever happens next is only though fate to be willed
And if you listen closely one can hear the breeze being stilled
Alas she grows nigh with hips swinging and lips moving
And then those loquacious lips emitted “would you care to have a tea”
I knew she could hear by heart from across the table
And then it was only silence, lovely her and me
“Look, me and that lady over there are wearing the same dress”
And so whatever she was going to do it may have to be under duress
“that lady has the a copy of my original,” and she was enraged
Something tells me your friends have never been caged
I’ve been penned up with a pen, pen pals and ten pencils, but only one isn’t too dull
You’d think out of all those pencils there’d be one sharp one to cull
So you’re daddy’s little girl no longer my sweet
But I’ll let y’all know when next we can meet
So when I first talked about being caged in a cell
if asked for the truth my story would be difficult to tell
Because each eye a gem, each tooth a pearl
So tell me sweetheart, are you still daddy’s little girl
© 2011.……free cee!
And s.b.---if you are gonna ask me, so where’s the nexus from one thing to another I
say go have another glass of vintage brandy.
It was now growing dark as the sun was going down
When a stranger rode into Soup Creek, a frontier town
No one could see his face, he was all dressed in black
An old boy was heard to say "I think he's come back".
He took his horse to the stable, then went to the boarding house
Before he went in looked across the street, to the town jailhouse
There was a familiar figure sat outside, in a rocking chair
Cradling a Winchester and the stranger, felt his cold stare.
He'd returned after all these years; he had something to prove
And just after a few days back in town, he would make his move
But Sheriff Koplin is no fool and he had planned up far ahead
And had formed a posse whilst the stranger slept in his bed.
Three fiesty girls from the saloon, Jan and Jenna, Tania too
And a Texas ranger called David who was just passing through
With gambler Milton who was deadly, with a colt forty five
And Tom the undertaker who looked more dead than alive.
It was the evening of the showdown; the stranger came out of the saloon
The sun was now setting but the tension had been building up since noon
From his holster he withdrew his pistol and then fired shots up into the air
The stranger was not one for living a peaceful life and he just didn't care.
Sheriff Koplin approached him and said "Hand over your gun"
And the stranger replied "Lighten up man, I'm just having fun"
The stranger was laughing now and looking down at his feet
The townsfolk were nervous and had disappeared off the street.
Then behind the stranger came a shout in a loud Texas drawl
It was Jenna disguised as an old woman, covered with a shawl
"You heard the sheriff " she shouted, "Put your gun on the ground"
The air was now thick with tension and you couldn't hear a sound.
Then from nowhere the rest of the posse appeared pistols in hand
They abhorred bullies and conflict and were prepared to make a stand
The stranger realised he couldn't win and threw his gun down
Walked to the livery stable to get his horse, and rode out of town.
The drama was now over but it could have gone either way
Sheriff Koplin and his posse restored peace, and had won the day
It was now days end in Soup Creek in that peaceful frontier town
All you could hear were chirping crickets as the sun was going down.
Written on 20th May 2022.
That Adam.
Had the pleasure to meet him.
An honest man,
faithful ... trusting, relying in God ...
He's centered!
Lives his life,
strait from the heart.
Can do the math.
Found him shreding wood today;
with his thumb.
Stands ...
right smack dab in the middle.
A common man.
Can break down a ruler by half.
Be it whatever the width, length, depth ... or height.
Lives his life full throttle ...
places himself right there in position
first thing in the morning.
Got a bum knee ...
but still ...
he hits the ground
just a running.
Knows ... life's just one big grey area!
A free for all
freefall!
Knows just when;
to pull the shoot!
Believes life's a perfect science.
He's everything but ... off kilter.
Maps his life out in his head.
Something doesn't quite figure.
Holds his head high.
Waves his white flag of surrender.
Takes it all as it comes.
Called out to me one day,
threw out his hand,
sat me down beside his confidence ...
offered me a beer!
Walked up,
started today matter of fact,
or so to speak!
Building a porch with him now.
Plan to secure it with a roof,
sealing fan ... lights,
the works.
Working-hard ...
to live in peace.
A humble man of God;
building up his simple life,
through-the-mercy-of-his-hand.
One mighty hand,
gentle, true like few
that Adam.
So-hey-man!
Me ...
wouldn't-even think to-cross-him,
because-my-friend;
I sure can respect him;
for this!
So-if-any,
there's a plan,
your betting on.
Well ...
you'd be best to have another look!
Because bud I tell you his hand ...
man it's capable!
He can level a porch,
with it too!
So if in fact,
you ever feel he smarts you ...
and were you,
to dare!
I don't know I tell you!
Take care!
"Pull the shoot" bud!
Though I just met him myself.
a good old boy I like him.
So before you get to jumping!
Friend ...
maybe you-should too!
Because to be true with you friend,
I haven't a clue.
But sure,
I'll bet you this!
Don't know what else he can do!
"Working with him today myself,
and I figure I know now ...
"he's a good man that Adam".
Alone on the trail, pushing daylight,
we two pull into a small arroyo to bed down.
Nigh unto exhaustion, hot food
transcends tired old bones and the smell of sweat,
but not enough for either one of us to volunteer.
The fire, more for company than for heat
soon plays its lonely desert song into night air.
We take out our stash and roll an old fashioned
lumpy cigarette, twisting the end just so,
to hold it together till lit.
Soon we’re hanging on cliff’s edge between
the real and unreal world of guided imagination.
The dreams of holy men in ancient tribes calling
shape shifters into mental matrimony,
waiting for the merge of brain and vision.
Beating ceremonial drums and asking for grace.
They soon dig into my old rusty past that hangs
some where on the fringe of past and present.
I’m riding fiery waves in the belly of the beast.
Back draft--- watch for back draft I thought.
Back draft !! That point where temperature raises
combustion to the point of a cyclonic draft of fire.
The beast feeds on oxygen, oxygen eaten so fast
it sucks the surrounding area clean of all air.
A lucky person caught thus would be incinerated.
One unlucky would slowly roast while suffocating.
Awaking abruptly, I forgot the dream. Just a dream.
The wind had settled, in fact there was deathly quiet.
Too quiet, but nothing was giving information.
So we saddled, and headed into Big Timber, the last leg.
Big Timber—a plethora of ash, alpine, and firs of all kinds.
Only the solid wall of granite ahead, separated them and
the helicopter waiting to take them back to base camp.
He felt a harsh feeling of being stalked but didn’t know why.
Besides, he still was apprehensive about the deathly stillness.
As they wound into the narrows he tasted the distinct smell.
Fire, it was very close. Back draft he thought. The warning !!
Thank God for the tiny clearing before the final opening.
He could see the funnel reaching tree tops, deafening all.
Moving behind the outcrop again, they started to retreat.
Suddenly the silence was almost as deafening as the wind.
Moving again from behind the rocks, they were astounded.
The tornado had sucked all the oxygen away from the fire.
It was out!!!!
© 22 Dec 2010 For Tirzah
“Would you have wanted me to kiss you?” he asked
Behind the screen, she trembled
Teasing was her best defense
To calm down her beating heart
She typed…
“I let you hold my hand… what did that tell you?”
How could she know?
That the 15 year old boy at camp
The one who had pursued her relentlessly
Had awakened in her stranger fluttering sensations
Throbbing realities of a feeling
She hardly understood
How could she know
That the 45 year old man he’d become
The one behind the screen
Had never forgotten her
Still wanted her
After all these years...
“It thought you wanted to cross the street," he shot back.
“A sense of humor? I don’t remember that,” she countered.
Still unsure…with feelings raw
They joked
Back and forth
A volley of questions
Comments
Cut from the fabric of their hearts
Reconnecting
Picking up where they'd left off
Unresolved questions
Tentative players
In this game
Typing away
Hearts aflame…
“Yes, you should have kissed me...
Now I will never know what it would be like”….
Her fingers flew across the keyboard
Serving the fireball of a comment
That had been searing her heart
All these years
Why hadn’t he kissed her?
Heart pounding…she now waited for his response
The man she never forgot
For a moment
They were back at camp
Summer sun
Sand and fun
Beautiful Mediterranean beach
Sizzling heat
She 13….he 15
What had they known about love?
About passion?
“I didn’t know how you’d react…
I wasn’t man enough."
What could she say to this man?
Her first love?
The one whose hand she had held
Behind her brother’s back at campfire…
After all these years…
She’d found him
After wondering why
She had her answers
He’d never forgotten her
That kiss…..
Hung between them
Throbbing with pain
Trembling with promise
Now driving them both insane…
What would it have been like
That kiss….
Would it have changed....destiny?
Sealed their young love in a forever pact?
Now…they’d never know
A chapter they could not reopen
Perhaps, it was never meant to be
But how those memories had stayed
To haunt them in the night
What might it have been like
Had they shared
That gentle sweet
Wispy and tender
Light as a young lover's dream...
That ONE kiss….
Eileen Manassian Ghali
The neighbours complained again of the noise
Of yelling and screaming and a bully's poise
So we attended and entered through the front door
On a common law power of entry against violence to explore
So there was a 13 year old boy cowering in his room
Crying and holding his broken arm and needing treatment soon
A mother was sitting at a table shaking and crying too
Prowling around the house was a fit looking man as his demands grew
The first thing that he said in the hallway of the house
Was f..k off and you c..ts get out the violence to espouse
We certainly weren't going to leave whilst there was danger
And started an investigation that was not in the man's favour
It came out that the boy was a couple of minutes late
And so the father had enforced a rule and his arm he did break
Then it had continued through the house with the father ranting his rules
This was the noise that the neighbours heard calling the boy and his mother fools
It came out during the investigation that the mother had broken bones
With the last needing surgery and a hospital stay with excuses not flown
The wife and the son would not give a statement and go to court
Even though there was domestic violence in the fathers rout
But we could not leave them with the man of the house
And although the evidence was a bit thin we arrested this spouse
He told me that he wouldn't go with us and to p..s off and leave
As we loaded him into the police car and he was not pleased
So we went back to that police station and he threatened us
As we put him in the cell he made quite a fuss
The next day the prosecutors negotiated with his lawyer
And in the end the case had to be dropped even with an implore
You see neither the wife or the son would tell their story
And the man of the house would return in his glory
As he was leaving the station house I saw him the next day
And he gave me a smile and said wasting your time anyway
The police went back there often over the years
And there were times when the mother and son were in tears
The question that I ask when I think of this time
Did we make it better or worse in trying to be kind?
© Paul Warren Poetry
The neighbours complained again of the noise
Of yelling and screaming and a bully's poise
So we attended and entered through the front door
On a common law power of entry against violence to explore
So there was a 13 year old boy cowering in his room
Crying and holding his broken arm and needing treatment soon
A mother was sitting at a table shaking and crying too
Prowling around the house was a fit looking man as his demands grew
The first thing that he said in the hallway of the house
Was f..k off and you c..ts get out the violence to espouse
We certainly weren't going to leave whilst there was danger
And started an investigation that was not in the man's favour
It came out that the boy was a couple of minutes late
And so the father had enforced a rule and his arm he did break
Then it had continued through the house with the father ranting his rules
This was the noise that the neighbours heard calling the boy and his mother fools
It came out during the investigation that the mother had broken bones
With the last needing surgery and a hospital stay with excuses not flown
The wife and the son would not give a statement and go to court
Even though there was domestic violence in the fathers rout
But we could not leave them with the man of the house
And although the evidence was a bit thin we arrested this spouse
He told me that he wouldn't go with us and to p..s off and leave
As we loaded him into the police car and he was not pleased
So we went back to that police station and he threatened us
As we put him in the cell he made quite a fuss
The next day the prosecutors negotiated with his lawyer
And in the end the case had to be dropped even with an implore
You see neither the wife or the son would tell their story
And the man of the house would return in his glory
As he was leaving the station house I saw him the next day
And he gave me a smile and said wasting your time anyway
The police went back there often over the years
And there were times when the mother and son were in tears
The question that I ask when I think of this time
Did we make it better or worse in trying to be kind?
© Paul Warren Poetry
I had a happy childhood at first
Yeah I played with dolls to a tragic
Extent. It was a dream of some
Type of female existence. I was
Almost to young to remember the
Two year old boy I used to be.
I had memories of another me.
I began to realize, as I heard
Relatives arguing about a little
Girl. "No she is a boy!" "She
Should wear boy clothes, why do
You buy her dresses!" I wondered
Who could they be arguing about
Then I recognized, it was me!
That is why I often sought boy
Company. I didn't give a DAMN
What the doctors said. Yeah!
In my head I was the one my
DEAD BLACK FATHER'S SON!
I was a dream in my own reality
Supreme!! In somebody else's
World, to them I was just a
Little black girl but... I knew the
Truth. Someone had ripped my
Genitalia! Made me unnatural
An abomination! My dreams
My aspirations. A failure!
My ANATOMY!! was my destiny
Now to bleed? Between my legs
Was a lie. Mutilation! I was a
Little girl? I cried, I wanted to
Become the man that I am!
That my father was. He loved!
I thought who had committed
This atrocity against me. My
Mind screamed. WHERE IS MY
BOY ANATOMY!!
This was traumatic. As I grew I,
In 1980 or maybe 1992 I knew.
I was a man without my life no
Longer between my legs. So
What did this make me? Somebody
Have carved me a Man-made
Anatomy. Making me a gender
Bender?! This SHOULD NOT BE!!
A TRANSGENDER ATROCITY!!
I AM A MAN!! WITHOUT MY
DNA PLAN!!
OH DAMN!! This will not stand!
I feel as though I am the only one.
My dead black father's
GENDERLESS SON. No synthetic
Hormones man made Testosterone
I have got my own. YESSS! I AM
A MAN! THEY named me
VALERIE on the surgeon's table.
But I grew regardless of what
Anybody else wanted. I would
Become my own reality.
Knowbody will control this angry
Man. No transgender rhetoric no
Bible beliefs. please. I am nobody's
Woman. I am the unapologetic
Nonconforming supposed to be
Wants to be like my forefathers.
All of those ANATOMICALLY
CORRECT MEN! I WANT TO BE
THEM!! Y- CHROMOSOME SEED
NO APOLOGIES!!
The definition of MANHOOD IS
to FIGHT against the ODDS no
Matter what!! I AM!!
My mother had throat cancer
Growth in food pipe, couldn't eat
Doctor took a biopsy and confirmed
The day she got her biopsy done,
I distinctly remember she was happy
Doctor had cut a big piece, and finally she could eat
After she died I heard about another woman
Same situation living happily without medicine
Every time cancer blocked her food pipe
She got it cut through biopsy
I remember my mom struggle to eat
Cry with a bowl of food in hand
If only we had thought of this simple trick...
More than cancer fear and anxiety kill
The story I am telling is absolutely true
There was once a businessman, stinking rich
He was detected of cancer, end stage
Doctor told you will not survive more than 3 months
He decided let me enjoy last days of my life
Watched comedy movies, laughed whole day
Busy enjoying, he lost count of time
Six months had passed, he was still alive
Went to doctor to enquire
Doctors told you are cured
Tests confirmed the same
His laughter and attitude had cured him
Another true story of a 14-year old boy diagnosed with cancer
Doctor told him you will not live for more than six months
Along with medicines he laughed whole day
Watched comedy TV series and comedy movies
He too was miraculously cured
Don't let cancer get into your psyche!
Some say a sugar free diet ends food supply to cancer cells
They die naturally
A homeopathic doctor cures even last stage cancer
I saw in net one day
Ayurveda too has cure for cancer
If only we looked beyond allopathy!
More we fear death, more it comes and hugs us
What we think happens
That's what believers in subconscious mind affirm
Think you are OK, you will become
Do this specially before dozing off to sleep
And immediately after getting up
Throughout the day, imagine you are cancer free
And you will actually be disease free
God is most powerful of all
With full faith surrender unto him
Hand over your body in his care
And stop worrying as it is no longer yours
That faith can move mountains is true
Do this and watch miracle happen to you!
07.06.2021
For Chantelle Anne Cooke, Cancer Ivy
… Well, a man told me a Story
That was hard to Believe
I thought he was Lying…
‘til I looked thru some Trees…
There went a thin Alligator
With a Boot on his Head !...
Walking to the River –
Like he’s so Unafraid…
Now, I turned back to the Guy
And asked, “What should I do?...
… but he was limping away
Without any Shoes…
He had a smile on his Face
That turned into Laughter…
He joked, and said…
“The old-boy came and got what he was after!....
… Amen !...
He was just looking for his Skin
He needed somethin’ to walk Around-in
Hold his head upright, and keep on Walking…
… He was just looking for his Skin…
… Now, if we could know the Creature-Language
They would shock us to the Core !
‘Cause they got their Own Legends
And wild-animal ‘Lore’…
They think that we are Lethal
And they just can’t Trust…
“Those Strange Two-Legged Walkers…
Come here looking for Us !...
“ There’s a Silk-Worm Somewhere
Working in a Sweat-Shop
So that little-bitty Woman
Gets a pretty, pink Top
Be it Leather or Pelts
Or Fur or Fleece
Say, Ram, I hate to tell you… but …
… ain’t that your Niece…
… in that Pen?”
“… ‘Cause they’re looking for Our Skin
They need somethin’ to walk Around-in
Better Round-Up all of Your Kin…
‘Cause they’re looking for Our Skin !”…
Well, if you don’t think this is True
Go Back to The Beginning
Where the First Man and Woman
Was caught Red-Handed (Stealing)
They got Leaves from the Trees
But wind Blew, Right-Thru
Man Turned to Woman: said,
“… don’t know what to do !...
So Half-naked and Crying
They had to Leave a Home
Yet, God… Ever Gracious…
Gave ‘em Skins… ‘fore they was Gone !...
… Amen !...
That Snake was looking for Your Skin…
Now, You Need Something to Walk Around-in
He was looking for Your Skin…
That’s what you get for listening…
(Part 1 of 2)
Sara... this one's for you Kiddo and all the
Enjoyment I've gotten from Your Writings...
(and... You were one of the first to Greet Me here
on the Soup... and let me know... it's Ok
You've Landed Upon Kindness... Share... Thank You)
MoonBee