Wants her husband to buy her a horse,
He’s fighting hard, she’s got no remorse.
She’s dreaming of stables, he’s gasping for air,
Night after night, she’s out without a care.
I want a pony, oh can’t you see?
Your wishes mean nothing to me.
I want a pony, to ride away,
She has other men she wants to play
She whispers sweet nothings, they’re just lies,
Tears in his eyes, she wipes them dry.
A smile on her face, she runs into the night,
While he’s losing the battle to cancer,
She’s winning the fight.
I want a pony, oh can’t you see?
All your wishes don’t mean a thing to me.
I want a pony, to ride away,
She has other men she wants to play
Saddle up my heart, you’ve torn it apart,
Hard to believe you’ve got no love in your heart.
But still I hold on, to a dream that’s gone wrong,
You’re riding away, I’m Stage 4 and almost gone
I want a pony, oh can’t you see?
Your wishes don’t mean a thing to me.
I want a pony, to ride away,
She has other men she wants to play
I want a pony, can’t you hear me cry?
Give me a horse so I can leave you to die.
Go to the light, I’ll show you the door,
You wanted a love, not a cold-blooded whore
Why this fascination with wings?
Said Wilbur – Am I wrong or am
I Write, replied Orville? Continuing to
refine his draw: Some like to jog,
while I think to soar. Wilbur, less
convinced, on the cot began to
snore. Then some geese came honking
by – Wilbur, rubbing clear a sleepy eye~
at length agreeing, Write behind you, brother!
Settled with a coin-toss, Orville’s Mail-order coin.
Wilbur was first to try.
I’ve a son who once lived in Manhattan
Against all storms the hatches he’d batten
Mamdani came to power
My son’s resilience soured
Mamdani's hatches he boldly spat on
A bird shat on my head today
Why he did it I could not say
Passing below a nice green tree
He suddenly let it go on me
My head was wet, it trickled down
And stopped amongst my disapproving frown
A tissue was required, Oh what a mess
A sorry state I must have looked I guess
As it dripped all down on to my shirt
All embarrassed, feelings hurt
It’s supposed to be lucky someone said
What to have a bird shat on my head
I retorted in an angry mood
Then laughed out loud when situation reviewed
It must have been funny to those near by
To see this bird with a very keen eye
Who flew away not to be seen again
But only his droppings did remain
Is it lucky, we will see
But I won’t forget the day he shat on me.
Poor dog, yard bound to do as she pleases,
to find fun in dull times such as these-es,
with a dramatic paw wave,
became a hunter so brave,
as she stamped out her victims, the bees-es.
He was almost a toddler, more of a stand up and take a bow crawl away and climb on whatever was near. We used the now dreaded “play pen” to keep him out of trouble. Then it happened…CHRISTMAS. You know, the tree part.
It was a smaller tree but it took hold of his complete attention. And that took complete hold or our attention. What to do?
After a serious deliberation concerning the alternatives, it was decided by a majority vote, one almost a toddler abstaining.
To protect the child from the tree and the tree from the child it was decided that the tree would be placed in the “play pen” and the child allowed to view it at his leisure. Christmas was a rousing success. The tree hung out with us until New Year’s Eve.
the tree’s history
a Christmas awakening
discretion’s valor
It was on one early summer morn
that the voice of a watchful Mama Corn
told a frightful story, meant to warn
her son, Pop, just recently born.
"Pop", it said, her darling boy to save,
"Once, in a cornfield, I too would wave.
In the sun and breeze, I was brave,
but you must listen up and behave.
You're a special kind of corn you see,
the 'zea mays everta' variety,
in everyday speech, 'popping corn'.
You should be proud, but I forewarn:
Special dangers lurk for folks like us
You're old enough now, we can discuss.
If, at the door, your darling greets you
for a movie date, she wants to eat you.
All corn loves to dance in the hot sun,
but be careful how you have your fun.
If you go to the beach from dawn to dusk,
please remember to wear your husk."
Instead of listening with respect and fear,
Little Pop would not lend his...ear?
So, while his mother's ghost did beseech,
the sun popped Pop all over the beach.
I had a vision,a waking dream.I drove someone,a female to a beautiful secluded spot in nature.It may have been the trail of tears state park.We sat in the car and talked for a while till I asked her would she like for me to take a stroll allowing her some privacy for the storm that was brewing.She said no ,she wanted my presence .Almost inaudibly a sound began as if from the soles of her feet building in volume and intensity .As each resistant cell released what it had long held the volume continued to escalate as it sought a point of egress.Arriving at her wild eyed contorted face she looked at me questiongly.I responded with a look of calm reassurance that she would endure this . it ripped its way up her throat pulling her head back with the force of the long contained explosion of pain releasing a scream that both frightened and awed . A ferral non human wale of a banshee that made the hair stand stiffly at the nape of my neck .
Then she collapsed into an outpouring ,no flood gate
Could have contained removing the last vestiges of the unbearable weight she had exhaustively carried.And then she was well.
So you want to hear my story
To tell you where I came from
But can you handle it
Will you really listen to me
Or will you just continue to judge me
Instead of asking me where I am headed
Will you believe me when I tell you my story is true
What I was I am no longer
Or will you continue to preach to me
Freely giving me your sanctified opinion
It has often been said not to judge someone
Till you walked a mile in their shoes
But yet so many people do
Having no clue my story could be yours
My friend, words hurt, and actions or lack of actions hurt too
You said love is enough, but even the good book
Tell us we show love by our actions
My road has been hard the journey has been long
At times I wanted so badly to give up
I thought I was losing my mind
But yet I kept going although I felt at times all alone
And now I am stronger, wiser, compassionate, less judgemental
And if you had to walk a mile in my shoes you would be too
A Mighty force
God’s Wrath
Devastation
Winds that blew
Rain that pours
Thunder that roars
Kansas Highway
A Greyhound Bus
Destination bound
Kansas City schedule
A Tornado ratio
A bus rising lift
Surrounded by swirls after swirls
A wonder the Greyhound bus wasn’t torn apart
Stayed intact
A thought from Wizard of Oz
Suddenly the Greyhound Bus was gently put down to the ground
Heaven’s Mercy and Grace
Greyhound bus continued on its journey
Back on the highway
The Driver and Passengers experienced their ordeal
It was for real
Witnesses forever
God’s hand of power
It was that minute and hour
Mercy prevailed
A Catholic Girl's True Story
I was only nine, when I was
denied absolution!
I had eaten meat on on a
Friday, tsk,tsk.
To burn in hell 'twas the
Priest's resolution?
Daddy raged at the Chancery
Office.
How dismayed he was at all
this!
I had to go back to the Church,
the pastor heard my Confession.
How frightening this was for
a little girl!
Who thought she was headed
for hell!
I thought obeying my parents
was more important than eating
smelly, halibut from hell.
Mom had cooked the meat not
me.
I was simply following her orders!
How the Church has changed!
Now they cannot keep their priests
to follow sacred Holy Orders?
11/1/2024 Poem 5
My true love story
Almost seems like
A fairy tale romance.
Romeo and Julian almost.
Two lovers met
From different worlds
And find themselves.
Also has elements
Of “Mid-summer night dreams”
Sonnets and poems.
And other classic romance
Dramas, poems, and stories.
And classic romcoms.
Including Sleepless in Seattle
And Bollywood and K dramas..
But in my story
I dreamt of meeting
And marrying my dream lady
Traveled to Korea
Where she was waiting for me.
And despite opposition
From her family.
There was a happy ending
And we are still together
42 years later.
A woman journeyed to the island of Jamaica in the West Indies
The island of be happy and don’t worry
First thing the woman did was laid on the beach
Soaked up some sun
There were many people among
The woman me a Jamaican man
She was American
Romance elevated through the air
They both did moon walks on the beach
Dined and sipped tropical drinks
Nights were intense full of interlude
Kissing being the conclude
The woman’s vacation had come to end as she spent a week, and had to return back to the US, and back to work
The Jamaican man gave the woman a gift, and told her not to open until she got back to the states
The woman was sitting on the plane to return home, but was so excited about the gift, she had to open right there on the plane
When the woman opened the gift, a box into another box
The discovery was a small box Coffin with a note inside stating, “WELCOME TO THE LAND OF AIDS”
Months later, the woman got sick
Death history
Once I wrote a really good poem
My teacher wrote
‘Lightning doesn’t strike twice, Sam’
A 'D' in the course spurred my belated reply ~
‘I know, ma’am’
again, violently
the room suddenly appeared
saving me from my dream
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