Paddy was a hit man
for the Irish Mob
hired to be slick
and do a whack job
but he didn't have the knack
or know the trick
without being caught
and put in the nick
behind bars
but not the sort one might think
where a few jars
may be bought and he did so love a drink
more than one too many
was his undoing
the cause of all
the troubles brewing
and with only one hit
it's really no wonder
he was fired from the gang
for a drunken blunder
as he couldn't quit the whiskey
be it bottle or a flagon
and ended up inside
not on the wagon
Casanovas slipping into the red-light tangle;
Forbidden fruits, where temptations dangle.
A carousel sequelae of transient fun,
Shoving precious life through a darkened dungeon.
Herpes, a saboteur of life's quality;
Silent falsehoods, pernicious in totality.
Retrovirus tainting the filthy foray—
Courtesan's fate wrapped in tragic dismay.
The French disease, resurging like a dragon,
Greatest mimicker, its curse on the wagon.
An avalanche of despair, harrowing as the Holocaust;
Fleeting morale fulgurates, bruising life's bitter frost.
Relationships crumble, akin to a precarious card cascade—
An insidious monster of misery, lurking like a ticking grenade.
Dire repercussions of the aftermath,
Grueling the innocent's once-quiet path.
Serenading the cognizant wizard,
Salvaging thyself from a tumultuous blizzard.
No Free Lunches
Miracle Man
November 4, 2023
When eggs are free they’re quickly snatched,
But like most things free there’s an effort to deceive.
Many see Rotisserie chickens before they’re hatched,
and slick advertising makes many others believe.
Many will jump on the wagon if supposedly free,
but most things counted free have an effort to entice.
Only one free thing should be our passionate plea,
our Salvation is free but it too had/has a price.
Jesus Christ
Romans 6:23KJV
For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Everyone jumps on the wagon, professing to see.
To feel, to taste, to be enamored and endeared by the man.
He is our hero, they say; I see a distortion, a blurry abnormality.
They see someone to cherish, I see someone who makes me shriek.
What kind of glasses are you using? My cousin asks.
He examines me, starting with my teeth.
I see yellow, brown and gray, I say.
I have no idea how you see red, white and blue in this moron.
I get thrown out of the family. They accuse me of being an independent.
I am overjoyed, because I am an independent.
They begin a chant about independents.
It is disparaging and mean.
I see them more easily now, understanding what went wrong.
No wonder my view had always been drippy and blurry.
I head back to the neon lights of the city,
Remembering now that leaving ensured I would live.
Lately, I'm trying to diet
There's a lot of pain in fitness
All the tasty foods are taboo
Tell me, can I get a witness?
Standing on scales Saturday
Was my motivation to try
But without my chocolate sundae
I don't know but that I might die!
All the famous diet "Guru's"
Cast shade on the foods that I love
There's no way you can convince me
Cheeseburgers are not from above!
Not pushed, I jumped off the wagon
Thinking, "I'm not really that fat!"
I decided to leave it be
I thought, "Yes I can live with that!"
Then shortly there after I hear,
Across the street in a wee voice
"Hey mommy, look at that fat man!"
So......back on the wagon's my choice!
I tossed the bottle and jumped right on the wagon
My livid pains exuded nothing but honest pity
Through years of constant warnings and naggin’
I stopped the partying and nightlife in the city
I stopped the drugs and cigarettes on the way
Sank into dreams of being what I used to be
Hoping my health would get better each day
I took walks and ran in the woods to feel free
I stopped gambling and watching raunchy shows
I stopped reading about sex and savage crime
And started drawing and writing heart felt prose
Now I’m a changed man and feeling really fine
been on the wagon
no alcohol in six weeks...
he toasts his success!
Date 3/18/19
My buddy is on the wagon
What a damaged soul I’ll say
Please don’t shoot the wounded
Help is on the way
He held on to his youth too long
And now it’s time for him to pay
But please be there to understand
It isn’t nice for us to judge
He doesn’t need a reprimand
And it’s easy to hold a grudge
Being hooked seems selfish
And a sign of being weak
But I think support is the answer
Good comes when it’s what we seek
I think it’s funny when in the thrift store I see
An Alcoholics Anonymous handbook donated to charity
With the former owner’s full name on the front, page sides, and spine
And even a return address label on the front page inside,
So much for anonymity!
I smile and think, “How cute!”
But I guess if you were in a room where everyone has the same book as you do
You have to label yours clearly to avoid it getting confused
With those of others who have highlighted different passages than you.
So as I take donations at the thrift store door I think, “Here’s another one!”
And if this one has an address label, too, I may just for kicks and giggles send the former owner a postcard saying, “Thank you for the donation . . .
How are you? Still on the wagon?”
So I peer inside
Let’s see . . .
Hey wait – that name - and phone number- is mine!!
After thinking on it, it’s possible that I donated it a couple years ago
And someone bought it, even with my name on it, then they, too, let it go.
For better or worse those memories we throw out always resurface
Hopefully in time to help us realize we are all far from perfect.
Just Because You say It
By Franklin Price
11/19/2017
Just because you say it
Doesn't always make it so
Jumping on the wagon
Doesn't always mean you know
What's happening to our justice
Where guilt requires proof
Heresay and outright lying
Is going through the roof
What's happening to our country
And our body politic
All these finger pointers,
Spotlight seekers, make me sick
Few, if any, journalists
Are proving as they learned
Ratings must be highest
Even if the truth is spurned
What happened to a trial by peers
For innocence or guilt
Now the sword is drawn
And it's driven to the hilt
We no longer work together
All the rules are out the door
If you don't think the way we do
We'll smear your name some more
Be cautious when you throw the stones
Be sure your past is clear
And those of your ancestors
For at least a thousand years
Money can find anything
And pay for people's lies
And twist the truth to benefit
Those people we despise
It's not for We the People
How the government is run
It's for power, wealth, postion
That's why nothing much gets done
We all have high hopes
As we step on the wagon
With the band playing
Grab the tail of the dragon
Not really knowing
What we are needing
Where we are going
When we are leaving
Just when we get there, hoping
Not everything's broken
Tripping the light
Of the fandango
What's the big fuss
Why can't we let go
Paying the fair
On what should be free
Instead mostly care
You about you and me about me
This far into game I was hoping
Everything wasn't broken
Used to we'd all
Come up to the line
The same one we've learned
To step over in time
No matter which side
We all take a beating
With nowhere to hide
In our time of grieving
Either direction, coming or going
Seems these days, everything's broken
Allow me please to introduce you to some of my friends
but treat them with respect or else they'll send you round the bend.
Don't mess with the Hogfather if you don't want a vendetta
the side effects take days to go before you're feeling better.
Thistly Cross in small amounts will leave you warm as mustard
but stick within your limits, less it turns your brains to custard
A night with Henry Weston leaves me walking kind of funny
and seductive charm of Old Rosie can make my eyes go runny.
I know that I have sometimes thought of going on the wagon
only to find myself ensnared in the clutches of Black Dragon.
Of all the things I think of that can make my smile much wider
when down my throat none float my boat like good old British cider.
Cheers!
For contest 'A vice you love', sponsor Rob Carmack
November 14th 2015
With the boss pulling and the workers pushing, with the Square Wheels on the wagon and the round wheels in it:
The boss views the path.
Roll forward faster better.
Maybe tomorrow...
The landscape. No blame.
Should have been designed downhill.
Thumping could be fixed.
On the Wagon…
I’m on the wagon
Out to slay the dragon
His breath of fire always one step behind
I’m on the wagon
Out to slay the dragon
With my only weapon
The power stored within my mind…
Cleaning up the act
Facing all the facts
When you were burning you know you couldn’t see
Removing the blindfold
The truth is seen and told
Now you’re cooling down and fighting to be free
You’ve got to get away
Find someplace to stay
Immune to temptation as it looks for you
Start it once again
The beginning of the end
You’ve failed to see all that it has yet to do
I’m on the wagon, out to slay the dragon
His breath of fire always one step behind
On the wagon, out to slay the dragon
With my only weapon
The power stored within my mind…
Look straight into the mirror
How do things appear?
Can you make out through the haze, the bloodshot eyes
Remember the times you said, that’s it?
All those times you’d never quit
Can you, yourself, live with all of the lies?
I am on the wagon, out to slay the dragon
With his breath of fire always one step behind…
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