Long Stubborn as a mule Poems
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It’s now many years Mom
since you passed away
Still angry with me from that day
For your opinion was all that mattered
No one else’s you considered.
Many a spat we had over silly things
You left without a farewell to a place far away.
I have a daughter now no two
But one’s as stubborn as a mule
We’ve had harsh words she and I
and parted in anger many a time
Now I know what you felt
when I opposed your rule
Oh blessed night when you came to me
Your spirit pure and sweet
A bouquet of flowers you gave to me
And one to my daughter too
What touched me most were the words I read
etched upon petals translucent blue
Love and forgive, from Mom dear one
You know now the true meaning of love
In that wonderful place above.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful vision of love.
continuance of part one!!
I want a love where my dreams are filled with your voice
and I awake
to find out that it was just you
pulling your body on top of me
admiring your face against the white of the cotton sheets
our hearts beating
my hands curious
as I run them down your shoulders
to your back
such a comfort
I want to feel my endorphins at an all time high
even laying here
I am so happy
at this moment I could die
and it wouldn't matter
my heart is exploding
ten times over
I want a love
equally as stubborn as a mule
Where our angry words sting each other
Brooding times
Pacing back and forth over who is right and who is wrong
my fears
humbling myself
where I have to admit I am wrong
I want a love where I sometimes cannot stand you
and yet I cannot stand to be without you
Scream at me, whatever,
for you I would stay through hurricaned weather
I want laughter
that rings from mountain tops
where you can make my bad mood into something brand new
side aches
from times of tickling
where i am rolling over trying to escape your fingers
begging for air
and yet at the same time still loving it
and in the end
laughing still
I want rolling down hills on midsummer's eves
with grass down our shirts
oh the leaves are everywhere
You pick dandilions from my hair
laughing quietly
this look of concentration in your eyes
I am stuck wondering what it is about before I realize
you are leaning in
for the sweetest of kisses
making me silent
in awe
of the moment
I've found this joy
wherein
all of these guidelines already exist
It
just took a while
to appreciate
how alive
he makes me feel
I want a love and that love lies in you
Form:
you're a grease-fire film
attached to drywall like salt
s p i I l e d
over a cracked, unwashed shoulder,
the dull toothache
throbbing
through a 3 a.m. call,
growing older, sharper, colder...
get out of my mind!
you aren't some gothic ghost
in a tragic shroud,
but a raw static hiss on busted station;
a sagging weight ,
a stationary,
stubborn-as-a-mule cloud,
a parasite
fattening on my hesitation...
get out of my mind!
like orange rust,
nibbling at a clean steel blade,
the bitter, permanent
ink-stain you've made;
no velvet darkness here,
no weeping willow,
just concrete bricks
in my chest, and grit on my pillow...
oh, xanthippe....get out of my mind!
Again, he broke when the gate bell was still clanging,
then took off so fast... to the reins I was left hanging.
He's wearing a goofy smile that says, "I'm so proud,"
but he's forgotten just one thing... for crying out loud!
I have to be in the saddle when crossing the finish line!
That's a concept totally lost on this headstrong equine.
Flashing Ghost has always been as stubborn as a mule
but I keep taking the mount, so that makes me a fool.
Oh yeah, he's determined to always break out on top,
But when he outbreaks me, I can't yell at him, "Stop!"
I would end up crumpled on the track, lying in the grass,
or diving head-first up the crack of this white horse's ass.
Ghost should be retired from racing and used as a stud.
He'd be more valuable, but as a racehorse, he's a dud.
He flies out of the gate but is a jockey's worst nightmare.
I swear, I won't ride him again, even on a double dare!
Younger Days
By Franklin Price
9/20/2019
When I look back in wonder, to when I was young and bold
And people thirty years of age were all washed up and old,
And as their words of knowledge, approached my thickened head,
My ear drums did beat so loud, to much of what they said.
The school work was too easy, and so often I was bored
Yet the teachers were persistent, and for that I thank the Lord
Homework was so useless and was only for a fool
I did not do a lot of it, was as stubborn as a mule.
The older that I got back then, the more I tempted fate
When I became a senior, I would barely graduate
The year was nineteen-sixty-four, the world was in a mess
I tried to go to college, it did not work, I must confess
I needed more direction, to help me grow in age,
The military offered that, though it wasn't all the rage.
I enlisted in the Air Force, that I never will regret,
Did it on my own volition, did not do it on a bet.
Four years went by quickly, the last in Viet Nam
SOS for breakfast, in MRE's was sometimes spam
Was Air Force educated, the last formal of my life
Had been to war, and married, and divorced from my first wife
Mustered out in Washington, came back to Florida soon
Went to work at KSC, sent the first man to the moon.
The year was nineteen-sixty-nine. It was there I met my wife.
We're married fifty years, this year. She's the best thing in my life.
Could write of all that happened in those many years between,
Of all that I have been through and everything I've seen.
This was about my younger days, this part that I have told,
If there is something I have learned, it's that thirty isn't old