One, two, three, four
Hardwood seeds planted on the floor
Trying to get to the final round
Championship bound
Who is your pick?
Cavs or Knicks
Garden parties are always filled with fame
WKRP broadcasted CBS’s Street manipulated game
Late night tape delayed
News wondered if Vietnam POWs completed the trade
Newly launched ESPN, soon took charge
Captaining the NBA barge
Cruising a hoop dream
Love Boat holiday network floated up stream
While Peacock’s spurs shine
Thundering, shaking the western spine
Enjoying an entertaining time
That cannot be declined
Or denied
Since the audience will find
Two winners survive
Not saying their seasonal goodbyes
Wanting to extend
And defend
The scoring message they send
Larry O’Brien’s trophy is for the best
Acknowledging acing basketballs premier climatic spring test
‘We are the champions’ winners will sing
Sporting awarded new flashy rings
Say senora to the winter blues
And welcome summer leagues with air condition that is cool
They played "Tie a Yellow Ribbon" at the nursing home
People in their eighties clapped and sang along.
I paused nearby and listened before proceeding on my way
It was a ray of sun in a cloudy dismal day.
They played "Tie a Yellow Ribbon" when the POWs came home
Vietnam behind them, the eagle had long flown
From 'hell in session' to a divided land
They deserved our thanks, so strike up the eighties band.
(Chorus)
Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree
It's been many years, but heart's stay free
The world is getting smaller, friends have come and gone
Sometimes a song can help a weary soul hold on.
They played "tie a yellow ribbon' for freedom in Hong Kong
Funny how a romance tune became a protest song.
We've already forgotten those romantics in the street
A song can't beat a rifle, no matter how upbeat.
They played "tie a yellow ribbon" when our hostages came home
Women wore one in the Civil War when the cavalry was gone
Home is where the heart is, and if oldsters can laugh and share
The rest of us should regroup and try to self-repair.
Undigested
Strife in These
De-Knighted States:
It POWS!
To Decrease
Your World Player.
Hey!
You're "kidding,"
RIGHT???
"Sick, Sick, Sick."
-Gray Squirrel
02-23-2025
Laying down in this comfortable hospital bed with blue
and candid linen sheets that cover my strong legs,
I harbor no anger for my illness;
I can't blame God for my woe!
Bitterly and deeply saddened by a slow clock,
I'm looking with awe through a sun-kissed glass window
from the tallest building on Lakeville Road
with an awesome view of New Hyde Park;
it's November and the birches turn bright gold...
a joyful choir emerges from the small church below
as the young tenor sings virtuous notes:
everybody adores him and stands up from the pows!
In there, parishioners are fervently praying
for a divine miracle beyond human comprehension;
is someone praying for me with folded hands?
I'm confident that many have done that for my healing;
it's so absurd that we only ask our Lord for compassion
when a tragedy strikes...we are hypocritical humans!
I harbor no anger for my illness;
if most youth is so stubborn and rebellious,
and doesn't consider sickness:
here's the woeful proof of being reckless!
Drowning in our incubus sleep,
phantom enemies are devised.
Easy answers for night terrors.
Social purgatory for the stranger,
Our river Styx for the brown ones.
Our fortress must wall them out.
Brown poverty is culpable.
Starving families must be criminals.
Racialism winking and nodding.
Jingoism sneering and taunting.
Everyone knows the words.
ICE round up the suspects.
Our delirious sorcery making police raids.
For us wall builders, it is always midnight.
For us distracted, there is never safety.
We are detainees of our nightmare,
POWs of our wraiths.
The smeared tirades offer glaucoma.
The duplicitous liars supply our slumber.
The scapegoating harangues support our night blindness.
Yet, we always awaken sweating
in our witless twisted sheets.
The POW of my heart
the POW of my soul
digs deep a hole
I cannot explain,
do not push it,
don't push or I shall show you Hell
I'll give you a war that you wouldn't believe
to hear is one
but to live horror is another.
To snap the heart in two like a stick
and try to put it together with glue
appreciate death as it comes closer to you;
I push and you pull
we dance a game of tug of war
and go there and here and over there and anywhere,
but we run in fright
in the night
and we look at each other and pay no mind,
not knowing anything about life before death.
The POWs of society rip away at edges of cigarette packs
and drink clear beer from gutters and laugh at death,
but when it comes to your door
we cry and ask why...
He was a large soldier, standing well over six feet.
In World War II; imprisoned in the Philippines.
Thousands perished on the Bataan Death March.
They were brutally beaten; starved and parched.
Wanting to give up, during this sixty five miles.
Thoughts of his wife, Helen; her beautiful smile.
They had vowed to be each others help mate.
He would press on, with a slow, painful gait.
Knowing she was praying for him gave him strength.
Tho thousands of miles apart, their hearts still linked.
Their marriage, like the oak tree; its' roots were very strong.
He was a skeletal seventy-eight pounds when he returned home.
When he was certain he could simply go no farther.
His lovely wife Helen became his scent of water.
*This is a true story about one of my husbands cousins, Helen and her
husband. She has dedicated her life to helping find POWS or their remains. She
works tirelessly and has helped numerous families. I am honored to know her. I never knew him. He had gone to heaven before I met my husband.
July 16, 2014
Contest: Scent of Water
Sponsor: Faye Gibson
< cakes and sausages on hot griddle
uncle Leroy's dam dog just piddled
slipped ~ slide across floor
grabbed shotgun by front door
now dam ole dog just plays an fiddle
bow bow bow bow bow bow bow bow ~ wow
ow ow ow ow ow ow ow bow ~ ow
with tail between own ~ legs
now dog sings ~ and ~ brags
about cousin's daisies's bad bow ~ pows
Entry For John Freeman's
Slapstick Limerick Contest
Gl All
Poor Ole Dog LOL
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