Long Wet behind the ears Poems
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When in swanky restaurants, 'tis easy to daintily dine on cordon bleu,
But dining on lobster requires deft finesse without humiliating you!
For what its worth, I offer the following that I've learned o'er the years,
To show snobbish waiters you're really not all that wet behind the ears!
First of all, a wizened waiter will provide a bib if he's really on the job.
(Somehow, they perceive right away that you are a rather artless slob!)
When cracking open each morsel, some violent squirting may occur!
Should juice spritz the guy at the next table simply say, "Sorry sir"!
The hapless lobster is dissected in certain order to make the meal complete.
First, remove the claws, crack the shell with a claw cracker and remove the meat.
For this a fork is provided, then discard the shells in a bowl being discreet!
Next, twist the tail from the body and break off the flippers - those you musn't eat!
And now for the piece de resistance, that long anticipated holy grail,
(That you paid fifty-five bucks for!) - that scrumptious lobster's tail!
Insert a lobster fork into the flesh and gently ease it out of the shell.
(Sucking meat from the legs is optional - on that matter I will not dwell!)
A female lobster might contain a bit of roe considered a delicacy by some.
(If that is your fancy, quietly asking about the lobster's sex is the rule of thumb!)
Plunge lobster pieces in butter taking care not to let it run down your arm!
(Leaving a sizeable tip for the disaster you've created wouldn't do any harm!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
This is the first in a trilogy of poems that comprise the first 2 years of big bens career as the Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback so sit back and enjoy.
I was at my favorite sports bar
Rooting on my favorite team
They were playing hard
Up on the big widescreen
The quarterback is the new guy
Still wet behind the ears
But each veteran he's played
He's sent away in tears
Our running backs are awesome
The best in the whole darn league
But when duce can't get it done
The bus drives through the other team
Our wide receivers Plax and ward
Know how to help us win
Now when they catch the ball
I crack a cheerful grin
Our defense is an iron wall
These guys are made of steel
When they finish with the other team
They think they'll lose their meal
We've won our whole division
We've also clinched the bye
To the Superbowl they're bound
It's there we'll do ore die
We'd better win that game
Or it'll have been a steel
The only way we'll lose
Is if we're deal a royal deal
Then I'd be heart broken
Without a bit of cheer
But I wouldn't let it show
I'd say we'll win next year
I know that won't happen
I can feel it in my bones
It's the other team you'll hear
Give out those fearless groans
So the next time you're a rooting
For your favorite team
Unless it's the Pittsburgh Steelers
It doesn't mean a thing
i had parents who drank and gambled and fought. and slowly those nights turned around so that things could never be the way that they were before.
a child in limbo. between the days of small childness and nights of knowing childness. a layer of atmosphere just big enough for a seven year old girl.
i imagine now how it would have felt if i were born on a different day, in a different year, a different house on a different street. the shift.
i could have walked through a childhood full of secure dreams, firmly rooting my feet and ankles in a future already bought.
i miss the danger of being young
i try to feel that anticipation again, not knowing whats waiting around the corner. thinking of adventure and exploration.
i try to discard the feelings of dread, of never knowing whats waiting for me when i get home. expecting rage and degradation.
my brain cant balance on this tight-rope, this wanting and knowing and fear.
i miss the danger of being young...
of being naive, green, a little wet behind the ears. of being sweet and untainted just wishing life would begin.
of being perfectly ignorant and loving it, a part of the greatest unknowing.
i miss the danger of being young and loved and safe and not expecting the world to fall apart. not yet, not yet.
That Summer Heat That Stoked My Fires
There was that summer heat that stoked my fires-
Soft the winds blew, long the beauties reigned;
And then a dream came that burned into my desires,
Bringing on love that was real not feigned.
Hot sandy beach and an angel walking there,
One that swiftly entered my longing soul.
She was heaven with long flowing dark hair;
My brain cried, lets gamble, let the dice roll,
And fate granted my fevered wish that hot day.
For my boldness brought her hand to hold;
Days we spent within our dream, we did not stray,
Nor did we feel the winds that blow so cold.
Months of bliss, majestic nights under glowing moons-
Then without cause it all went to hell;
No more dancing, no more sweet musical tunes
Why it blew up, I to this day can not tell.
Hot summer dream ended and sadly so did our love-
Now to find that it was a beautiful fleeting grace,
I wonder was she, that angel, truly sent from above
To teach me in life, that great loss one must bravely face?
Robert J. Lindley, 1-25-2016
Note.-: Based upon a sad reality I faced as a young man
when I was still wet behind the ears... Ancient history....
Yet a memory burned in so deep.....
great aunt, kissed me yesterday
after bidding fond adieu's
to fleeting flashbacks of youth
streaks of invincibility
stiffened her spine when a gentleman came calling
courting her future
a legitimate suitor
awkward member in good standing of the
Chicago Fire Department
A man unaware of the elements due to generations of Irish breeding
mule, mick, jackass, workhorse, turf-cutter,
he responds to all equally
stones of rough leathered hands... make him free
to cast a roving eye, flash a quick smile
share a wink with a girl hanging laundry out back to dry
aunt kissed me today, longer
holding on to that sweet floating feeling
that anything might happen
and would
when the Holy Trinity cuts her a break
if Paddy can turn the other cheek
oblivious to water that Mary's mother threw off the back porch
onto his only brown suit
onto his pride
onto Halsted Street
bright Sunday morning in June
The triplets had ruse in motion
ascetic, etched from strict culture
preordained her new life of solitude
Paddy, fresh off the boat
wet behind the ears
soaked in shame
never came back
auntie grieved
unwed
will always kiss
Little upstart, young showboat
Lots of bluster full of gloat,
Been there minutes, thinks he knows,
Blind ambition and it shows.
They say he's bright and tough to boot,
Compared to me, now that's a hoot,
What's Yale and Harvard, simply names,
The constant ones he repeatedly proclaims.
As to the Navy, are we to be impressed,
He only served so he'd be thought best dressed;
The lawyer bit, now that brings on a shiver,
The very thought entwines my liver.
Now as to his wife,
I will admit she's rather nice,
But then let's pause to look at mine,
And tell me if she doesn't her outshine.
So there's no doubt whichever way you cut it,
I Trump this kid with character and wit,
He may be smart, but I'm the stable Genius,
Him all hot air, with me my smarts are intravenous.
As I ponder how I should react,
Knowing I’m the very best at tact,
I thought I'd stick to what I do so well,
While he drones on, I'll just my winning vision sell.
America needs me, not some kid wet behind the ears,
Whose monotone delivery brings us all to sleepy tears,
With me you get that vibrant lively spark
The choice quite clear, a Guppy or a Shark?
Dear Temporary Bliss,
I Sense a Shift Amidst
When I No Longer Crave Your Embrace or Your Kiss
Reaching For The High Hanging Fruit
Wet Behind The Ears, "Know It All" Youth
Suspicion Birthed By Intuition
Mercury Retrograde Enhanced Mis-communication
What A Situation I Have Found Myself In
Barely Hanging On to the Rope of Tolerance
Patience Account In Overdraft and Fading Thin
But The Wife In Me Will Surely Win!
Silence is Loud When Truth is Eluded
Fruit Picking Like an Opportunist to Opportunities
You Can Fool Them, But You Can't Deceive Me
For You See
The Crone in Me Knows The Truth
Her Flaming Torch Will Be Your Retribute!
The Lord Who Came First Has Long Departed
Leaving Behind an Amateur Who Can't Grasp How This Situation Started
Masked Grandeur In A Truth Parade
Is It Me or Yourself You are Trying to Persuade?
Sorry, Not Sorry!, I'm Not Drinking Your Sour Lemonade
Your Version, Illusion of Love Has Left Me Bored
My Time, My Energy and Sanity You Cannot Afford
No Regrets At All for The Time Invested
It's Just That You're Not My Type and I'm Not Interested!
The poems have been flowing like a river
Must take advantage while it happens
I think they say, “while the iron is hot!”
Other very familiar idioms like...
“A bigger bang for your buck” sure has sexual overtones
“Take the bit between your teeth”
Again, do they all have sexual overtones or is it me???
“Tail wagging the dog” uh-huh
How about, “Wet behind the ears!”
Sounds like someone has been keeping their tongue busy
I like, “Peter out”
Now if that doesn't conjure up an image
“Wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole”
YIKES!!! I wish!
“A hard man is good to find!”
LOL! Nothing to add here!
“Make a clean breast of things!”
No explanation necessary here either!
“Middle for diddle”
Now this one should be at the top of the list
“Caught by the short curlies”
OUCH!!!
One last one...
“Keep it under your hat”
WOW! Now I'd sure like to see that!!!
© Jack Ellison 2014
I graduated High School
Still wet behind the ears.
Went into the working world
Full of doubts and fears!
I was just a youngster,
Still very immature.
Had no idea what to do
My goal - I was not sure.
My big mistake was obvious,
I never planned ahead
My brother Bill had warned me
But I ignored what he had said!
I finally had a little chat
With my mother and my dad.
They asked “why not join the Air Force
It can’t be all that bad”?
So that became my final choice
One I never did regret,
Cause I stayed in over 20 years
A career I won’t forget!
The advantages were many
I met folks from every state.
I saw many places in the world
My assignments all were great.
I served my country for 20 plus
I’M pleased the time I spent.
Now that I'm retired
can't believe how fast it went!
It goes to show you never know
what fate might have in store.
For me it all worked out just fine
I could not have asked for more!
"Sung In"
We are notes
on the tongue
of God
Each of us words
in a never ending
sentence
Music is math
God breathes us in
out of Time
We are but droplets
past and present
participles
wet behind the ears
unable to hear
the full melody
of
"what is this song?"
We move
punched out
perfect and yet wrong
holy and unholy
chords pulled tight
and we are automata running
under the pedals
of bare feet bleeding
playing a symphony
We do not fully understand
and we are slowly
beings being
low tides
caught in the ripped veil
sung in
blind
unseeing
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Radiohead - "Everything In Its Right Place" (slow version)
Artist: XavieRinato
https://youtu.be/B5mrbr5qTDQ