Short Gigs Poems

Frogs song
gigs are snapping
frog dies...

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reddish rippling creek
large bullfrog up for a peek…
two boys with gigs sneak...

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my hair is long
and strong
and its black
but its wack
hard to take care
people stare
to get to my gigs
I WEAR A
WIG...

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There once was a girl named Sandy
Whose auburn hair was doubly-dandy:
She got gigs of gazes,
A plethora of praises;
Hey, her hair hue was hyper-handy!...

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Thing-a-ma-gigs seldom wear underwear
Preferring bare skin to breeze in the air
With satisfaction
Hope for a reaction
Frankly you squirrels, most of us do not care....

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Whatever that actually means
is elusive

discourse helps clarify
clear-mindedness defined by
heart and soul gigs might
help 'splain it some 

but only sum

'cause in the end
it's up for 
grabs...

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sun laden shadows
perpetually in motion
moved by Kansas wind

limbs honor the gods
reaching for heavenly stars
heart of tree smiles

frothy whirly gigs
gentle dandelion talk
normal april winds...

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Pigs are happy oinkers that don't wear wigs 
Pugs on the other hand, confer 
and  humorously un-burr  ;
 
One thing they got in common with pigs 
they both don't smoke cigs. 
and they both don't do gigs 

March 12, 2019...

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Rock star hedgehog rocked the world of New York with his guitar.
He had gigs lined up from sixth Madison to the Village, place named Garr.
When he began to rock out, the crowd went nuts and screamed along.
There was so much intense screaming, I never understood the song....

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She was a strip dancer named Shuga Shoes,

   Who did gigs in a pub in Newport News.

      'Twas well-known she liked the sauce,

         Which did not amuse the boss!

            Of jobs she was stripped and now sings the blues!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved...

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GARLANDS


A garland is a beautiful thing
It can be made by a host of many 
Flowers, paper, greenery and twigs
Many for parties, weddings and gigs
Using for celebrations is all the rage
People have them on their invitations
But some are hung around the neck      
As used in a local custom of welcome



26-4-19...

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It’s true, at first it gave me pause 
To busk among these stable stalls.
But since there’s cause to deck the halls, 
Why not be jolly, too?
Been from here to Timbuktu 
And played some funky gigs. but this?
Between the manger and the wise guys… good Lord! 
Faith may be noble, but ignorance is bliss.
Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, 
Rum-pum-pum-pum, 
Rum-pum-pum-pum…...

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It’s true, at first it gave me pause 
To busk among these stable stalls.
But since there’s cause to deck the halls, 
Why not be jolly, too?
Been from here to Timbuktu 
And played some funky gigs. but this?
Between the manger and the wise guys… good Lord! 
Faith may be noble, but ignorance is bliss.
Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, 
Rum-pum-pum-pum, 
Rum-pum-pum-pum…...

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I was mute.
Responding to the silence in-between the dial tone.
A new proposal of a new unlimited data plan.
I don't know how many gigs equate to the amount of anticipation.
Sitting in silence.
Phone pressed against my ear waiting to the sound of your voice.
The smell of stair-fry coming from an oval pan.
The smell of darkened beef and steamed vegetables sizzling by a pot of rice.
Boiling over in anticipation...

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WOODWIND DUET

The oboe and the clarinet went out one night for a curry.
The clarinet was short of cash but the oboe said, “Don’t worry,
I’ve had a couple of gigs this week, so I can afford to pay.”
The clarinet, “Thank you dear, I’ll pay another day.
They had a harmonious evening, the best one they’d had yet.
And later, when the bill came, the oboed for what clarinet. 

14th June 2021
Bite Size No. 7 contest
Sponsor - Line Gauthier...

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You ask me to come to one of your gigs 
Every Thursday over a pint at The Hop 
I politely decline 
Every Thursday 
You sat there dressed in plaid and denim 
Your lips curl over the glass 
Well I couldn’t possibly watch 
Them curl over a microphone 
In front of all those people 
I prefer a concert for one 
Sat in my backyard 
Dancing to songs of your travels 
With cigarette in hand, 
The only one listening 
Selfish I know 
But you make me that way...

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Monetize my word,
Or else its point is dull,
And pokes me, prods me ever toward,
A push without a pull.

Monetize my action,
I ought to spare it of the aught,
To feign the law's ideal attraction,
And idle sold when never bought.

Monetize my thought,
Then I'd be less inclined,
To sip from potions brewed in plot,
To mute my muzzled mind.

Monetize my being,
Perhaps then I'll have a chance,
Of freedom found in guaranteeing,
I've fled my fear of song and dance....

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