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Randy Becknell Poem
I’ve been sitting here so long,
My butts getting numb,
So I jump right up
And stick out my thumb.
He comes rolling down the street,
With the only smell of mention,
The noxious fumes; olfactory tension.
Now I’m not trying to make excuses.
But I Really needed to get to,
Lower Catoosas.
This dude with odiferous outlet
Was a goin’ my way.
If you think that was dumb,
Just listen to this:
It was a super-charged Edsel
With slicks on the rear,
It had the characteristic stench of,
Cheap, stinkin’ beer.
When I jumped in the car
He shot me the Bird,
And laid on me
These immortal words,
“Far in man…
Like what’s going off?”
I was stunned awhile
Had to catch my breath,
He looked at me with
A grin like death.
The smell was real,
The driver was not.
Like a bobble-head doll
On the dash installed.
I regained my feet,
Away from the freak,
“Thanks, but I’d rather walk”.
Copyright © Randy Becknell | Year Posted 2024
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Randy Becknell Poem
Much like the “cracker jack prize”
At the bottom of the box
As candy lore goes.
That unique badge of honor
For those who would dive deep
To grasp the brass button.
Beware this lure full of
Deceit.
Along the way you may yourself
Delete.
Copyright © Randy Becknell | Year Posted 2024
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Randy Becknell Poem
Seeds of Love,
Carelessly planted,
Means you take,
Sanguine Heart for
Granted.
Sow them well,
One by one,
Each time you’re
Through.
Look what
you’ve done.
If plans
Go Awry,
(Sigh)
Let the seedlings
Quickly Die…
For if you Plant,
On barren soil
A piece of your Heart
Will Surely Spoil.
And the Life You knew
Will Continue,
Though stained
With The First
Regret.
Copyright © Randy Becknell | Year Posted 2024
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Randy Becknell Poem
“Woke”, past tense of “awake”,
It is generally thought that,
This is a good thing,
My worst nightmares begin,
At that point.
If being “awake” means ignoring,
Reality at another’s behest,
It’s intolerable.
Allow the thoughts of others,
Permeate my mind,
So I Might wade into the pool of diversity.
Do not deny myriad creative thought,
And when the creation blooms,
In all its perverse manner,
However, it is clothed (or not),
My Concern fades.
The impact of being “awake”,
When the travails (and joyful
Epiphanies) of life become,
We realize every thought is past,
Tense.
Wake up!
RKB
Copyright © Randy Becknell | Year Posted 2024
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