All that and no cattle
Mi cattle against the
Fence
Big Bear snaring and drizzling
Mounting a cowboys defense
Tame the ego's get
Ya'll selves in line
2 marries the morning
Baby just take your time
We in zone
From the middle
You can toss to the end
They ain't looking
They ain't tryna be your friend
There's someone in charge of
Those things we can't understand
Put the pepper on it
Target out your man
Heartstrings Lyrics By Ron VanHooser
I see right through you,
you can play dumb all you want
~ if that's your winning strategy
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Lyrics By Lin Lane
Seems like yesterday I watched your fingers
play the piano, and heard your music unfold.
In memories, the romantic vision of us lingers,
though love's symphony dulled like tarnished gold.
When we were together, you wrote for me,
songs you scored day and night to compose
of the passion between an oak and willow tree,
Lyrics sweet as the fragrant scent of a rose.
Chorus:
But your love wilted like a flower
whose leaves lie withered on the keys.
My heart is wounded and I've no power
to make the miserable ache inside of it ease.
Tender notes on sheet music, ripped and torn.
No longer sung for they bring pain and grief,
stabbing me like a rose's sharpest thorn.
From loss of yesterday's passion there's no relief.
Can time erase the memories I fear won't fade?
Traces of us and what use to be linger in me.
I sway as if slayed by a dagger, and I'm afraid
that from the ghost of you, I'll never be free.
Chorus:
Your love wilted like a flower
whose leaves lie withered on the keys.
My heart is wounded and I've no power
to make the miserable ache inside of it ease.
I am a perennial winner
Cause I refuse to be a loser
I am programmed for victory
And I vehemently refuse to walk by sight
Nor by what my circumstances look like
For what is seen is temporary
I refuse to allow my situation
To dictate the direction of my prayer or confession
For I can not rise above my confession
Confession determines the life I enjoy
Whatever I give my attention minutely
Is what I have become in reality
Let your confession therefore
Be in line with God’s promises
When hard times strike
Do not take the route of complaints
Nor get frightened by what you see around you
Cause the unseen hands of God
Who does not sleep or slumber
Work behind the scenes
To change you through your circumstances
For hard times are meant to improve you
And adequately prepare you for promotion
And not to impair you
So welcome challenges with all your heart
And confess success through your challenges
If we can only smell the soul,
will it then smell like the rose?
in gentle aroma of passing breeze,
in morning fresh dew-swept air?
can we at birth of a little one,
breathe-in essence of his deeper self,
past the innocence of his smile,
can we see a universe entire?
do roses then live a spiritual life,
and speak with god with incense deep?
in their brief life on earth, is scent,
a language to reach other souls?
many flowers wither and fall,
like us in this garden of life.
while we talk of souls we do not see,
the rose has a soul that we can smell.
that is perhaps the reason why,
we leave roses at a departed’s grave,
so we can speak soul to soul,
through the aroma of their mystic self.
million roses I would plant to
honour millions who lived and died,
if only we could smell their souls,
loving memories would smell as sweet.
I shall read you a poem in my drunken state,
if my speech is slurred, forgive me mate,
it is a cocktail of rum, vodka and cognac,
if boss finds out I will surely get the sack!
so am i drinking at work? you may ask,
yes, my mate, from my steel thermos flask,
I bring in to work each morning with me,
everyone thinks it is my Yorkshire tea,
but I need a bit more to help me work here,
we haven’t had a pay rise in full ten years,
I sit around and look busy at work all day,
but just do enough to justify my pay,
boss is a bully who always gets the praise,
when company makes profit, he gets a raise,
all our hard work, and boss gets the cream,
morale is pretty low in the whole office team!
today unfortunately i have had too many,
i meant to kiss Isabel, but I kissed old Danny!
I am sitting stiff in my chair, so I do not fall off,
beginning to see double, now and then laugh!
friends around me know what I am up to,
if boss walks in I will rush to the loo!
Meanwhile my mate, I read you this verse,
if you like it, then raise your glass! Cheers!
Kiwi Cricket's Shangri La...
"Can still hear the deafening din of the Indian crowd chagrin.
Stunned shell shocked silence at mandarins' sins.
Yet somehow still so loud
Like thunder down under in the proud
Land of the long white cloud.
Daring to dream of derring do plunder.
Upsets’ unctuous umami.
Shocks’ sumptuous serendipity.
Cast asunder as against the odds.
Hallowed Gods' anguished..felled & fallowed.
Kiwis vanquished the voodoo of Indian home hoodoo.
This purple patch, so perversely plush...got a hunch.
Would make even Prince blush, proud as ribena punch.
Sporting nirvanas cavorting with crepuscular career nadirs.
Can’t pillory this Test expedition, like the Everest conquest & Hillary.
Black cap sedition…Indian perdition.
Tradition debunked by spunky funk.
Not once, not twice but thrice.
Teeming..awash with gleaming beaming white.
Emancipation...damnation & salvation.
The Indian’s cardinal sin…not being able to play spin.
No way you can naysay.. just
Another Bill Murray Groundhog day.
As we learned..the underdog winner.. we yearned had turned.
Fat cats burned & stats spurned..into a dog's dinner."
Essex girl Sandie Shaw
bare-footed held the floor
Famed for a Puppet-on-a-string
her win made all England sing
The sun will shine,
The moon will rise.
The nights will always glimmer.
The birds will fly,
The bugs will glide,
The people will hide for winter.
Everyday subsidies,
Everyday I survived,
I still don’t feel like a winner.
All the plates will be shined,
All the guests get invites,
But I’ll still eat alone for dinner.
Stew away every night,
Everyday is a fight,
My emotional pot sits to simmer.
Simply,
Everyday.
Simply,
Everyday I have this dinner.
WINNER!!!
Intention
Supersedes
Dominance.
-Gray Squirrel
04-18-2025
To my mother
She's the closest thing to God I know
She's a giver of life, love
She's the music, the maestro
She brings the sun inside when it starts to rain
She finds the warmth inside the cold
Has a home if you need to stay
She's the one who guided us
Through all the forgotten years
The times that we would stumble
She would wipe away the tears
As God created the earth, the skies, the sea
God also had time to create My Mom
His best written poetry
Strength in Losing
it’s easy being a winner
everything runs much smoother
losing is more difficult
loss is how we grow
The eating of pie before dinner,
It isn’t on point to get thinner.
It’s best to let go
That tin pan of woe,
And be a calorical winner.
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