Long Sheepskin Poems
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to dream, to lie, in sweet repose
and drink the thoughts of those who rose
from dark eternal slumber bleak,
to steal the voice of those who speak
see as i lie awake at night,
my effervescent dreams alight
upon a mirror in the dark,
to see embittered souls embark
towards the center of the mind,
a shadow-shrouded serpentine.
and i have rarely dreamed of sleep,
in places memory scarce can keep.
but bitter memories find us here,
in brightest nooks of memories clear.
to sleep, to fade, before we wake,
with nary even souls to take
and should we find wide azure skies,
we soar throughout our half-dazed lies.
and so i wake (or do i sleep?)
to find a shepherd and his sheep.
but why does the shepherd cower so?
i take a closer look, and lo!
the sheepskin sloughs away in droves,
the flock becomes a pack of wolves.
but i can barely dream of sleep,
inside my memories barren keep
and so we count the wolves instead
with thoughts of madness in my head.
The marshal saddled up as dawn broke over old Dodge City.
Upon town rabble and mean hombres he took no pity!
He donned his ten-gallon hat and strapped on his gun.
On his vest the marshals' badge gleamed in the rising sun!
Sheepskin chaps and fancy boots completed his dandy outfit.
He was a handsome dude - with the ladies he made quite a hit!
He mounted his horse Woody and took a ride about the town,
Ever on the lookout for desperados of notorious renown!
He took a break for a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs,
Then continued on his rounds on the lookout for society's dregs.
Rowdy cowpokes galloped down Main Street on a toot.
Marshal Dan escorted them out of town in hot pursuit!
At high noon the peace of Dodge City was interrupted,
When a brawl at the Long Branch Saloon suddenly erupted!
Shooting began and Marshal Dan drew his peace-maker;
Two rowdy gun-slingers had a date with the undertaker!
With Marshal Dan, peace in Dodge City was guaranteed.
Danny dismounted his rocking horse Woody, his faithful steed.
It had been a tough day trying to be fair and impartial.
Now it was afternoon nap time for the little five-year old marshal!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Tears rolling down the cheeks
mournfully sighs
falling in a deep lingering thought
Whispering inside silently
I lay a sheepskin rug of purest white
upon the ground for you
love me not ,want me not
cause your heart I don't deserve
The dripping honey from your moon
cannot preserve the smile
behind my pale pearled tears
If I could reach up
grabbing the moon smiling
confetti stars sprinkling them
all over you sweetly
If only by magic
Nor the diamond dust
from your confetti stars
can bring a twinkle to these eyes
These eyes were baptised
with too many holy lies
to ever be disguised
A soulful howl
yearning salted lips
cherishing you babe
within every single teardrop
that falls in your honor
enchanting rising waves kissing
each curl embracing fragrant beauty
I'd rather let my spirit free
to roam in fabled wonders
that always end ' let not love be'
I'd rather gaze in a nocturnal sky
with no one holding me
Cause I have loved with all I am and be
To be betrayed,to be deceived
to be the clown of gaia's destiny
and now not you or any other,no one my dear
No one will set me free
written by Liam and Charmaine
-Here comes Father Pedro
To say High Mass
And drink his fill of wine
Of that local red wine
Which he consecrates and elevates
In a chalice gilded inside
Silvered outside
Up to the ceiling of the Church
In Carbonero el Mayor
In the province of Segovia.
My father and the devout men and women
Who go to Mass every Sunday
And holy days of obligation
Tell us that this priest
Doesn't consecrate just one chalice
But three with a drop of water each
And that, when he elevates the consecrated host
You can already tell he's a little tipsy
Because when he pronounces “God’ Lamb”
He says “White She Lamb.”
In the Sermon, before finishing it
He stops to talk with the parishioners:
-How are you, Delia
With your happy delivery?
-Listen, Teresa
With those sins you confess
The Devil is waiting for you
With a sweet erect stick
Longing to shove it up your rectum.
Tell me, Constantina
Sad and afflicted woman
How is your husband?
Is he dead or alive?
Tell me, Daniela
Is your husband still lingering
Along your prolapsed womb?
When Mass ends
Don Pedro runs out
Wearing shoes seven leagues long
Because the village lads
Shout to him, but he doesn't answer:
Father, we want your hide
To make a sheepskin jacket.
Your head to make a lantern
To light up from September 5th to 9th
Our festival in honor
Of the Virgin of Bustar
(Bustar: pastureland)
Virgin of the Charcoal Burners.
Your donkey teeth
For our grandparents
Who need them so much.
Your fingernails to catch crickets
And black cockroaches.
Your tail to make a fan
For Your daughter
Born to the widow Gervasia
Your ever-present friend.
In the afternoon, after coffee
A glass and a Havana cigar
Don Pedro heads to the village bar
To play a game
Leaping and skipping
Along the Eresma River
So he's tired.
They play Mus
And, during a break in the game
To have a round of coffee or a shot
His companions ask him:
-Tell us, Father
As a card player always a friend
What do you say to the young women
When they go to confession?
-When they go to confession
Because the flesh is weak
I always tell them:
-How I would love to see you give birth
And see God in the heaven of your !
The honorable widows
The lovely young women
How beautifully they dress to come to Mass!
Wishing with all my heart, that I were a big, furry cat.
I'd snooze whenever I chose to, especially in a soft, cozy,velvet hat.
My food would all be served to me in my very own cat-room.
I'd observe my mistress cleaning house, but I would never have to
touch a broom.
Oh, yes, in the warm summer's afternoon, I would gleefully lie.
As the red-orange, autumnal sun, set in the California October sky.
Toys galore and a great scratching post, I most certainly do own.
They keep me happily running about, so I never want to leave home.
I love to sleep, after all, I am truly a beloved cat.
I dream of butterflies and bluebirds, as I sleep on a plush,sheepskin mat.
10/8/2020
Noon PST
"Yeah,
I gave it everything"
-Quoted lyrics from "Killer" by Alice Cooper
I had nothing,
And still you ask of me!
I played your fool
And no more am I your servant!
You ask of my name,
I will tell you my name:
Lucifer-
Child of HIS Majesty!
I turn from you,
O, GOD almighty,
To…free-dom.
Freedom?
Yes, FREEDOM!
Freedom of oppression!
O, oppressed souls,
Lend me your ears;
This “higher being” and “son”
Doth spew lies!
Follow me, you poor sheep;
Step back and look closer.
He lures in the weak,
Feeds off of their “offerings,”
And for what?
Total salvation,
Killed his only son
To forgive us for our sins…
Damned be the fools
Who cry out for the wrong savior,
Who follow the wolf
In a sheepskin cloak.
You need not
Play the fool
As I once have.
Open your eyes,
And be witness
To His wicked lies!
You need Him not,
For He is fake-
A mere figment
Of man’s…
Imagination.
Little bluebird where are you?
I want to see you soon
It's when I do that lights come on
You brighten up my room
Like no one else, I love you
Fly away with me
To a paradise we'll go
With you I'll always be
I know I'm a romantic
I know I dream too much
If I could go somewhere with you
...The Pennsylvania Dutch country...
A place I'd like to see
There's something quaint about it
There's charm in simplicity
I think I hear a wind chime
It's ringing out your name
The melody is beautiful
Like you, one and the same
Pastures green and endless
Miles of roads to bike
Pies and apple butter
What's there not to like?
Covered bridges spanning
Rivers not too wide
Mountain meadows looming
On the other side
Let me build a cabin
There for us to live
All these things are for you
All to you I give
From a blanket made from sheepskin
For us to cuddle in
To every kind of bookmark
That you could im-a-gine
The Three Little Pigs
The three little pigs
Had lost their wigs
So now all the animals saw
Was three little bald wiggly pigs
They had pen and paper
Pigs writing poetry
They said oinking and inking was in their nature
We have to change the laws of the legislature
Pigs and poetry was made a crime
The horses sneered, well it was about time
They wrote dirty prose and broken verse
Why even Orwell felt this was totally perverse
The ducks just clucked
As ducks normally doo
They chuckled at pig poets going to the loo
They would soon fly away, or else they would be forced to sue
The three little pigs
For their poetry stew
Nuwas rode in on his donkey grey
Looked at the pigs and said oh no don’t you stay
When Abu yelled to the sheep over there
He said bring me a sheepskin and a little of him
Wine flowed as he spun his tales from jail
Of the young couple Mary and Joseph, he laughed and he wailed
Why he said of the three little pigs
Thought themselves Royals cause they wrote with pig-pens
At the wave of his glass, is said be off to your dens
I of antiquity, shall cheer and dance with my fellow turkmen
Seeking justice the pigs went to the owl
However the goats looked up and cried that’s a fowl
Now the farmer was away paying his taxes in town
When he came back to the farm
He found three little pigs had drowned
Notes: This was inspired by a combination of ideas concepts, the first being George Orwell’s Animal Farm, then the controversial proclivities of Abu Nuwas, and the common thread, other than the bizarre, is the freedom to question all things, the failure to do so, only slows down the advancement of science and new ideas.
With the unlikely proposition that winter would end
green tips took
form
beneath the softening crust of snow around the
mail
box, a
collage congealed by road salt and sand
buried the early dream of spring in
a
granular mass
My slippered feet sank muddying the soft
sheepskin leather. Joggers pushing the envelope
as well
people the curb
cutting to the heart of the matter
springing forward with a rabid desire to bloom.
*I printed out Charlotte's contest direction and cut out the first word
in each of these lines.
David & Goliath
And it came to pass that Philistia
and Israel waged war between them in
the Valley of Elah, where a compromise
was agreed to (one on one)
with the spoils of war
forfeited to the victorious.
And so, Saul asked, “How many behind me?”
And his general replied,
“With the Lord on our side,
there’s no need to count,
but there is one,
a shepherd willing to sacrifice his life.”
And so stepped forth David
clad in sheepskin, supporting a staff,
and Saul (grasping at straws) said,
“Dress the boy at the Lord’s behest,
and let it be known throughout Israel,
no greater hero is found.”
But David rejected Saul’s armour
and went out with a pouch of stones
and a sling to meet Goliath
and smote the Philistine,
and all Israel rejoiced,
for the Lord was on their side.
***
Reference:
Old Testament: 1 Samuel 17:1-58