a quick word for paula lee
and  pamela rae
members of
the ditzy is as ditzy does club
may i join you ladies fair

my applicatory action
took place this morning
while labouring under distraction
i washed my husbands(a chippie) workwear
with cat's chicken flavoured kibble

it is now out drying on the line
with a row of cat's divine
staring at the brown streaked
grime in nose wrinkling adoration.

so ladies i think i made the cut
and can become a fully fledg-ed
member of this club refined
of absent mindedness defined....
(i plead pmt ...
intelligence in, sharp decline)
what say you..

I got the best departure gift
any moonshine lover good get,
two Mason jars full of applejack,
the local homemade brew.
I plead the Fifth
on who made the stuff,
but I can tell you,
it was very,
very,
very smooth,
not the least bit rough.
Good cops do it like that.
Oh, I ain't no real redneck,
don't do plug,
I just appreciate the craft.......
please pass that jug!

sHE beLIevED

What could be more simple
Than to write a poem about a daisy?
Petals,  pristine white
Surrounding  a heart of egg yoke gold
Proudly her head rears to the sky
Attracting bees and butterflies
No pretentious well shapes forms
But one of the oldest flowers known by man
Look, yes look at that simplicity of form
Un biased, un altered by the interference of man

Just a simple daisy

Sometimes we return to long ago conversations
where more than cross words were uttered
where protagonists squared up to one another
and arguments and insults were uttered.

And when with the benefit of hindsight,
that most magical and wondrous thing
we realise often how wrong we were
and the knowledge of embarrassments sting.

If we could just take back those words
that were aimed to wound so deep
knowing how they’d hit their mark
and said to make someone weep.

In those teenage years, how cruel we were
how very little of life we knew
how gentle and forgiving our heart’s desire
how slow the understanding – in young men grew.

I’m now a man – three score and five
a man who love has touched so deep
but I colour now as I think back
at my cruelty then and I want to weep.

For almost fifty years I've loved just one
kindness flows through her every pore
I've strived to make up for those teenage years
and she just smiles and then loves me more.

My luck has held, we've stayed the course
I pinch myself to check I can still feel
and she looks and smiles at me and I know
it’s not a dream and it’s still real.

©Joe Wilson – Teenage boys can be cruel 2014

write without thought of the reader
reader read without expecting
we live this life no-one else lives
here we are my loves together
travelling across these excuses
of some kind of poetry I slam-down
word by word repeating  and my-
loves so short in living any kind of-
freedom without selling out your-
sisters and brothers lets do it the unthinkable
cuddle our hearts forever and forever