Randall the Rat, had fangs so pearly.
But, his bad temper, sang so surly.
Cat caged, spit out his food!
The Rat raged, shouted...Dude!
Just bite me!...and don't call me Squirrely!
what is left of me,
once you have taken all that I am?
what words are left for me to wallow in
after you say goodbye?
in who's arm do I find comfort,
now that mine have been shackled?
how do I say I love you
when I can't bring myself to love again,
or have I ever?
how can I buy your forgiveness,
when there is so much, I cannot afford forget?
To whom do these memories belong to now
if I'm not the person I once claimed to be?
if only Your smile could mend my broken heart.
I would be a fool to heal myself with those who pass me by.
So, I walk backwards now looking for you again.
Trying to find who I was before you left.
They said she was too hot to handle
Wore a slip on her date with Randall
When she came in at two
Is when the gossip flew
And became the neighborhood scandal
At three 'o clock this afternoon,
A shaft of light pierced my room.
Curtains flung back as I arise:
An actor's life I do surmise!
Working halls and live theatre,
Singing songs in every meter.
Playing Hamlet, then a clown,
Each week it changes in this town.
Tonight my accent is deep Fen,
My entrance scene is played again.
People come to see me ramble,
I am a cop; Inspector Randall.
Bungling cases, then success:
Miss Marple would be so impressed!
I love the clapping of the crowd,
We take our bow, feeling proud.
Then travelling home in my old car
To see my kitten, Balthazar.
The night is cold, it's nearly three,
My kitten is here, on my knee.
I sip some vino, 'Espanol',
The kitten thinks I am his doll.
Razor needles pierce my skin,
But I am calm deep within.
Night owls hoot, it is bedtime,
I finish off my blood-red wine.
Take Balthazar his little toy,
To watch him play is such a joy.
I say goodnight and shut the door
Thinking of tonight's applause:
An aged actor's life to stay.
Tomorrow it's a matinée.
The land shapes people and people shape lands
Tug River tells tales about feudist stands
'Tween Kentuck and Virginny the river runs
Where the rival families took up their guns
Hatfields 'n McCoys roamed "Murder Land"
Cried 'n died by each other's hand
Details were as much fancy as they were fact
As was this revengeful ongoing hillbilly pact
Newspapers spun this yarn of "Outlaw Class"
Took over a hundred years for this plague to pass
"Devil Anse" 'n "Randall" were the family foes
Long-living cheek and jowl as legend goes
Cost many a life of wife, son and daughter
Through decades of feuding, senseless slaughter
Some say that they were driven out by rail
Others knew enmity should surely prevail
Eastern investors were clearly after coal
In the end, as always, control was the goal
By the start of the twentieth century
Appalachians had lost their dignity
I stood in awe of Cathedral art
When someone expelled a booming fart
Beneath a candle
Was Mrs. Randall
With the notorious Bro. Ken Hart
(Happy Valentine's Day, Jan!)
There was a young man named Randall
Who's willy resembled a candle
Just last night
His wife set it alight
And now it's too hot too handle!
if I knew it would be the last time
that I'd see you fall asleep
I would've tuck you in tightly & pray the Lord your soul to keep
if I knew it would be the last time that I walk out the door
I would give you a hug, kiss & call you back one more time
if I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice
lifted up in praise
I would've video tape each action & word
so I could play them back day after day.
if I knew it would be the last time
I could spare extra minute to stop and say
"I LOVE YOU"
INSTEADING OF ASSUMING YOU WOULD KNOW I DO.
Going to church,
it’s Sunday morn down south
Giddy feet youngsters
racing to the door of the temple,
having shrieks of joy erupting from their mouth
They are so glad when they get ushered in
While the solemn congregation gathers within
to hear another fiery sermon delivered
with holy conviction
It’s hot down in Alabama, Birmingham,
as the sermon heat starts to kinetically expand
Explosive words demanding social justice
Old black folk hollering: Amen, amen!
They remember
what their parents told them
about how it was back then
And the tears fall ...
as they hear the cry for change,
because nothing much has changed
Then at the rise of the Alleluia cries,
a river of tears gushes out ...
after the bomb explode
Shattering young dreams, windows
and bodies
with terrible, mutilating shrapnel
Prayers of wails without words
from a charred church service is sadly heard
Dedicated to the memory of all the victims
who died during the civil rights struggle of the 60's
This poem was inspired by the poem, “Ballad of Birmingham,”
written by the late great black poet, Dudley Randall (1901 - 2000)
You spent your whole life
walking up and down those steps
Sometimes the walk was less
when you lost a few rungs of horizontal wall elevation
More often the walk was more
when you puffed circular cigar smoke on papier spires
You always loved stacking the stairs,
accumulation of papyros was all that mattered to you
You never lost your papire seat
when the music stopped
at the end of playing musical chairs
Always wondering,
while you sat puffing cigars on a pile of papyrus,
just how high could the stack rise
Papier stair spires
got you climbing higher and higher
Accumulation of papyros
has got your pride elevating more and more
Papyrus printed packs
arranged neatly in green stacks
Elevating so steep off the floor
Paper stair stacks rising ever so high ...
strike a match to them when you die
This poem was inspired by the poem, “Roses and Revolutions,”
penned by the late great black poet, Dudley Randall (1901 - 2000)
When I would here the tales of a man who made the blind see, I would ask where is he, when the man walked against gravity I would say why not me? when I would remember story's of a man who did grand magic tricks I would think what a great story and When I would pray I would say his name as a child not knowing who he would be. The name wasn't given to anyone I knew so I wanted to know why? When I was young I was saved but didn't know what for, I was pushed under water because I was told that's what we are here for. Now I'm 0 year's old and I am finally starting to know you. So Dear JC I want to let you know that forever I owe you!
Love your bro Dustin Randall Legan. PS I still have a whole lot of questions! Thank you for carrying me when I was to lost to.
DESTINY’S PROMISE
Who will understand this path down which I lead,
Once black soil underfoot, now waves unsure and sunset fade,
“Horizon far”
but decision made.
Who will peer beneath this stalwart gaze and feel hopes breeze
brush the face and dry the tear for comforts sake;
“Horizon near”
Oh such joy, such laughter full, warm smiles surround me like
honeysuckle mornings that call to wake;
Warm sun on my face, the end of this journey, at last day break!
“Horizon full”
Randall
Poem of Remembrance
Remembering Man’s Best Friend
“God’s Lesser Children”
Who says that all must vanish.
Surely wilted flower's scent, does yet remain within its seed.
As they stood guard,
Now, we too stand
To guard the memory of selfless acts
These lesser children, who knew us well.
Our gate and stride, our scent, our call,
Each gave their lot, no less than all.
To peer again beneath that gaze and feel the nearness of where he lays.
Such sacred moments, etched in stone,
Forever sacred and mine alone.
But now it dresses you again,
You whose life these lives did hold.
Clad in friendship, from breast to knee,
A life not long, but oh so pure, it's scent and song remains in you,
with timeless honor, and future sure.
Randall
His world ended there, by the road
While walking, he was struck by a car
After everything this, and this was the end
«Sleep, gentle man», the cats purred
«Sleep, good master», the dogs barked
«Sleep, you are one of us», the children shouted
«Sleep, you celestial navigator», the pilots said
Crowded out of the ignorant darkness
He opened the door silently, very silently
The door of great poets
I am the Eagle, and you are the Dove.
I stand for freedom, and you stand for love.
I stand for virtue , where once there was none.
I stand for victory, we must overcome.
You are the Eagle, and I'am the Dove.
You stand for freedom, and I stand for Love.
I stand for peace, in a tormented land.
I stand for Man, reaching out to help Man.
You are the Eagle, And you are the Dove.
you stand for freedom, And you stand for Love.
You are the virtue, you fight for the right.
You're the light shining, in the oncoming night.
I am the Eagle, and you are the Dove.
You are my Lady, and you are my Love.
So then let us ask, of the good lord above.
Why can't the Eagle, be more like the Dove!
"Dedicated to all those who fought in War's, and all those who fought to save them."
Randall Scott Hazen
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