Along came a fire and I sat
Down beside her, the Earth's lava.
I move like a mule and a cat.
Not ever a care or botha.'
Wives and kids and money to be made.
Spinning dishes on poles evermore.
I stand a-muck with heart dismayed.
My compass smashed and far from shore.
I sit here now writing this poem.
Kyrielle? Why not? What the hell?
Just two lines left in this flotsam.
Geez, I typed this slow as a snell.
Stan's plan might be to kiss and tell
To raunchy stories find and sell,
She not the type, who judged things well,
When lips failed a secret its cell...
And she's got to protect her shell:
Not the end if privacy spell,
Lust not listen to its hit bell,
Rid of her Passion's thick smell.
"How sweet is a comforting hell?
I wont again in East-Street dwell.
An ignited love burst and fell.
Spice had seen Stan begin to swell
In his hands for drumming a snell;
And what's that, if not death knell?
Should'nt they die who'd kissed and told,
The subject matter; Spice too cold?
In tears of dying men a story:
Mostly of fears for unsafe children;
Clear witnessing of denied glory:
Son’s fragile fingers in hot cauldron
If that is scenic, also gory
“Please God, my child by Brook Kidron.”
Very bitter a ripe farewell,
Their offspring’s they see drown in well
Their closing eyes sure things won’t be well
“Even for the one named Honeywell
I’d said to his bank account swell.”
No ghost has man saved from sent cell:
Can he that bring about with Snell?
With death man no more an albatross,
The weakest carrier of other’s cross;
Death is what it’d been: a tragic loss:
Problems that take over a great gross!
Her exquisite lace linen collar tiered in layers of dainty threes
Was not the only beautifying feature of Princess LaCrees
Her beetle necklace of green peridot was engraved well
Her monocle was designed by Bob Mackie’s protégé, Snell.
She was the ultimate spring peeper croaker.
We saw by her wardrobe, she was a leap frogging bloaker.
Prominently featured on her front was a darling topaz roach broach.
It was the kind of semi jewel that would never have to ride in coach.
Princess LaCrees knew to top off her flashy outfit with a favored crown.
Orange crushed velvet puff ball at the top, it was a coppery light brown.
She is dazzling, a jumper among the reeds, the best of the best.
Ribbit Ribbit she shouts, her head a big crest.
Don’t you get hungry wearing all of those bugs? Asked Lady in Waiting.
Not really, the princess answered, as her maids began the uncrating.
Grasshoppers, ants, beetles, and lady bugs were scattering all around.
She stabbed and ate them all with her wand, without making a sound.
Only three days in The Country’s Cell
And one won’t any longer feel well:
The Damned Bizarre with a Killing Smell,
A place Tortoise loses help from shell,
To be ringing in one’s ears Death’s Bell,
Dwarfing other sounds with somber knell…
Keen prayers for life to stones tell
Or a song make of it helped by Snell
And hopefully The Waxed Record sell
But – Sorry - no success would it spell;
For once I’d pandered to it and fell:
All men aware our Cell is just Hell…
Received Blows you don’t discuss nor tell!
Billy played the banjo, sometimes the fiddle, too
While grandpa rattled the spoons and sang
About a sip of “that good ol’ mountain dew.”
Occasionally Mr. Snell came over and brang *
His collection of gourds, they made a harmony
While grandpa rattled the spoons and sang.
The makeshift band welcomed, as a courtesy,
Anyone who had a crude mountain instrument
His collection of gourds, they made a harmony.
Mama clog danced with an Irish jig movement
She, also a talented musician, did purely enjoy
Anyone who had a crude mountain instrument.
I usually sat on the front porch steps with a toy
While our neighbor hillbilly band played a tune
They tried, as best they could, never to annoy.
It was a splendid way for old friends to commune
Billy played the banjo, sometimes the fiddle, too,
While our neighbor hillbilly band played a tune
About a sip of “that good ol’ mountain dew.”
written July 10, 2021
[*brang. Every hillbilly kid knows that the
tenses of "to bring" are "bring, brang, brung."]
Silent River Run
Research fun gear, on-line or stocked.
Preparation: mixing, matching, dots.
Please, try not to harm the catches we snare;
Eat less of animal flesh;
And, plant lives matter, too....
Date and location decided -- she may or may not attend.
Checking bait and treble hooks, egg sinkers and split shots;
Swivels, bobbers, beads, jig heads and, perhaps, a friend.
Minnows or night-crawlers -- my mind is set on snell knots.
Catfish unknown seek
Rubenesque waters of the
Silent River Run.....
Other cats spout boilerplate
And form-letters to the drowned.
August 15, 2016
It Takes Four - Poetry Contest
hey Whats this
gonna piss
in this exams
gonna mad
Hindi maths
Mind gonna crack
computer G K
What a freak hey
laws of snell
what the hell
Geography history
What a mystery
In exams Wanna score
But its very bore