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6.4k · Oct 2013
on the fringe
g clair Oct 2013
Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

She's your favorite pillow on a double wide recliner
or your front porch Adirondack with your early evening stogie
peace and quiet is the theme of your real life day-dream
the only noise you want to hear is from your 60 inch flat screen
with surround sound and remote, watching oldies you old goat,
Twilight Zone and Walking Dead, you've got Stooges in your head, and all the talkshows and the news  is in between

you're not hangry, you're not mean, Freedom understands your bean
with your crockpot full of chili you've been full since you've left Philly
and don't really need a maid around in fact the thought seems silly
you can cook and you can clean, you can work from home and preen
occupied  with daily orders and you like to clean your quarters
you've got all the latest gadgets you're not wanting for a house guest
since deliveries come daily  thank the UPS guy, Bailey
and by now you're feeling quite blessed
'cause the shipping on your stuff is mostly free.

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

On those days you're feeling needy, there's that lady at the counter
who knows you by your first name and the waitress with her smile
and the few words back and forth let's you know she recognizes you
remembers how you like your coffee since you come for breakfast weekly
and it's so nice to chat with Kathy for a while.

Who could blame you, loving freedom since she doesn't seem to take
but will fill your heart with pleasure never make your head to ache
never needing any comfort, never waiting at the table
after cookingup your favorite, never asking you to come home
from wherever else you're hanging never asking any questions
always free from expectations who could measure up to Freedom's wit and charm?

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

So called friends there on your Facebook clinging to your every word
as if coming from a guru when you're feeling like a nerd.
they applaud your sense of humor, all the items you are SHARING
and they LIKE the way you're looking and the way you that you respond
for your intellect is hooking and you're forming a close bond
over politics and reason, like your thoughts on this election
and the president and treason or the stuff that you've been cookin'
yeah, you've got a wife named freedom and I know, if you can't beat 'em
I'd be wise to choose my freedom over you.

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

Now you've filled up all your neediness without a real lover
hey there now but that's your business between you and Freedom's cover
as for women, you don't need 'em cause you've sworn off love for living
and for sure you love your Freedom and to these ends you watch your giving.
Now you're turning up the music and then you're surfing through your favorites
and flipping through the channels and those periodic moments
gotta catch up on your reading,organize your book collection
get your Ebay up and running you can do without direction
or distraction or attention

do the laundry
mow the lawn
fix what's broken
nothings wrong

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

maybe you go and take a shower and then shave for like an hour
don't forget to flush the toilet, boil an egg and eat some yogurt
top if off with some granola plan your week out, date with Lola
watch the leaves fall and then scatter,
rake 'em up
'cause these things matter,
crack a beer and catch a rerun
never mind the stuff that's undone...

Somewhere deep inside you, you are still the same old lonely
as you were the other year, never mind that second beer
think you realize you miss me, bet sometimes you'd like to kiss me
holding hands while watching TV, maybe someone just to talk to
and to laugh at all your old jokes and to share a little something
that you whipped up in your crockpot, glass of wine, latte or mocha
never mind, let's dance the polka, right that tightness in your shoulder
like John Lennon and his Yoko...

You decide to dial my number  
I usually don't usually like to answer 
 on the first ring  but by chance, you're
  saying something, wait a second
'cause I gotta turn my sound down
oh you're singing something funny,
and I like your phone voice honey
it's this old familiar tune I wrote for you

"Come closer to me, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hangin'
on the fringe of my heart
with your white knuckled fear
for our freedom stands near
and we dare not even tell her we're afraid"
For my dear old friend, a confirmed bachelor, who goes by Poppy, or Bubba.
6.2k · Sep 2013
Corny Hornbutt
g clair Sep 2013
Corny Hornbutt went to town, looking for relations
ran right into Celibut, who flees from fornication.

***** cornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
make the ladies loose their lunch
and squirm with indignation!

Corny went to fellowship to woo his lovely Celi
mortified was Celibut, who punched him in the belly.

Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
make the ladies loose their lunch
and squirm with indignation!

Corny saw his life flash by and knew the end was nearing
asked for pardon from his sin, as hell-fire he was fearing.

Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
make the ladies loose their lunch
and squirm with indignation!

Corny saw his wretched ways and in this revelation
The Lord Almighty heard his cry and saved him from damnation.

Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
leader of the nation
Reached for Love, received the Grace
was made a new creation!

Corny Hornbutt was renewed and now he's Pastor Corny
Celi married Hornibutt and named their first-born Forny.

Corny Hornbutt, keep it up
lead us from dam-nation
Help the ladies serve the lunch
to all the congregation!
4.5k · Dec 2015
Icicle
g clair Dec 2015
There was once a young woman who,
possessing the disposition of ice,
icy cold and somewhat frigid
went walking  in the snow
slipped on the black ice
and down she did go
tried to get up but
it was too slick
and so, she
lay there
frozen,
alone
like
an
I
C
E
C
I
C
L
E
but
then
a nice
man with
warm hands
reached down
and lifted her up
he held her close and
warmed her heart, melting
her in his strong arms. She'd like
to think that he was her guardian angel
and he thought she was his own snow angel.
4.0k · Apr 2014
Kites Am
g clair Apr 2014
Mistakes
Run with them
grab a ball of string
hook a kite to one end
take it out to an open field
and just run fast with that kite
dragging along behind you
and then go back and pick up that kite
and start running again
and then while you are really moving along
toss that kite up into the air
see if it will fly but keep running
what? it hit the ground?
okay, come back on a windy day.
mistakes.

Kites am.
g clair Sep 2013
Ginger ale, coke, lemon and lime
Don’t have a watch, can't tell you the time
Iced Coffee with milk, no sugar for me.
Don’t care for sweeteners, prefer caffeine-free
used to drink Yoohoo, but can't seem to hold it
Once owned a Ford Falcon, but somebody stole it

My father is cool, he trims up the hedges
Mom's kind of smooth, but rough 'round the edges
Once found a seashell, put it to my ear
all I heard was a-guzzlin' beer
guzzling beer, not what I expected
had me a Mexican, but soon he defected

Looked for him everywhere,thought he was nappin'
But he'd hit the pavement, hirotchees were slappin'
Somebody told me he's back in Borrero
fryin' up churros in a fancy sombrero
next time i move, gonna keep it professional
hire a crew, and avoid the confessional

Dined on raw fish with a *****, beguiled
'Till he told me he'd die before having my child
Excuse me, I told him, I think you're mistaken
I'd rather have triplets by **** Clay Aiken
Been burned before,but I'm still kind of shocky
Swallowed my pride and swore off the Saki

Low and behold, a dude who says "Schmat-zah"
unorthodox fella, who can't stomach mat-zo
Head full of curls nice Hebrew diction
believes in his heart aliens are nonfiction.
He ain’t into me, prefers to be single
Made sure my milk and his meat didn't mingle

Stopped into Quick-chek to get me a bite
met up with Manny who put up a fight
mountain of misery, terrible liar
asked for a bike and he gave me a tire
Flattened but patched my heart isn't aching
I think it's a sign the thing was worth breaking

The back roads to Red Bank are bumpy and narrow
******* the bones but good for the marrow
I looked at the clouds, shook out the lining
can't see the forest for all of my pining.
Ironic that shells echo the sea
the old man batters 'em mercilessly

Mets beat the Yankees,what can I say?
Wanted for nothing, nothing got in my way
Got up to stretch, fell through the bleacher
and into the arms of a snake oil preacher.
Tinctures and ointments and warming love salve
can't erase hurt and the memories I have

Heard it before, how time is medicinal
But for healing the heart the price is additional
Beat for beat and measure for measure
grapes of gall and fermenting displeasure
tasted enough to know this can't be real
while mashing my heart in the search engine wheel

In taking that road to that carn-evil ground
for one lonely toad on the hairy-go-round,
something was lost in the folly and fun
as I'm counting the cost for all that I've done
I reach for forgiveness and snatched from the ride
am taken to places where nothing can hide

in the light of the One who is no longer mad
better than anything, more fun than sad
eternally loved, as it was from the start
the past is forgiven, all's well with my heart
as for my heroes, and the ***** I've pained
Nothing is lost and everything gained

Ginger ale, coke, lemon and lime
I've got a watch, won't give you the time
3.4k · Sep 2013
night cliff biking
g clair Sep 2013
in the middle of a dark night
no moon or street light
and  I could hardly see the road in front of me
but it was free
and so we settled
and thus we pedaled
more then 30 winding miles
into this wilderness of isles
or so it seemed
so very mean, just like a dream

he said "continue ,
for it is in you
and we can make it to the place
within an hour, at this pace."
his plan was brutal
I'm not a poodle
but I could truly smell the sweat
and feeling hot and sopping wet
it was no fun. at. all
and like the day y'all
so very done
again not fun

and it is true
that maybe you
would think ahead and plan the weekend
get a room and buy a map
none of this crap
(but I'm a sap
and went along with his idea
for I had hopes for us last year)
and so we learned
the hard way burned.

Well I could barely,
i say just barely
make out the single line white striping
while he's right behind me griping,
"can't you speed up?
we're gonna meet up
and the collision won't be pleasant"
not that pleasant was he were
so very DER!

it's so ironic, perhaps moronic
for there were headlights
coming up the hill in front
and to be blunt
they had to blind me
oh please don't mind me
for I quickly left the scene
right off the road
and with scream
into the blackness of a pitch
which sent me down into a ditch
a steep ravine
so very mean
and then the bike no longer able
to remain beneath my seat
after that drop
the roll to stop
landed on top
and not so sweet
so very beat
I said '"oh sheet"

I was not laughing,
nor was I crying
and but more like " could it be
dear Lord that I am dying?
Oh my God, excuse the curse
so freaking odd, though i've seen worse
and though my body's somewhat shaken
not a bone or tooth was breakin'
and I'm fully wide awake and
not a pain or any ache~
so very odd
it must be God.

and there I lie
perfectly high
my eyes wide open couldn't scope but
in the darkness I could *****

the rock beside my fallen hide
and in a moment not an omen
he said "Gee!"
"Is this your knee?"

I said: " Hey Mr. Moulder,
you've got my shoulder."
"I should have driven in the Bently"
and as he pulled the bike off gently

asking how these things do happen
"nevermind, just lets get snappin"
and we made it to the youth hostel that night.
3.4k · Dec 2013
Fairytale of Bayonne
g clair Dec 2013
I slid along the Avenue until I reached your place
I must admit I'd had a few and longed for your embrace
The steps were barely salted, and I cursed them as I fell
and peppered my possessions on the sidewalk iced from hell.

Face down upon the Avenue I breathed the cold of night
and realized to my surprise my hip had twisted right
And not a soul was present there to raise me from my dread
no not a one to hear my cries or anything I said.

I laid upon the Avenue, each minute like an hour
and I prayed that God was having you come down from your high tower.
to find me there, an old time square without a new years ball
much better to found alive than not be found at all.

Well it's been my vain conception that I'm good in any storm
I'm graceful, no deception, all my landings, perfect form
pride reserved an answer for the blasted state I'm in
only New Years Eve will bring out all the things I've never been.

Well it must have been near midnight, turned my head to hear the riff
distant music on the river and my mind began to drift
when something kicked my ankle like the tip of someone's shoe
could it be the boot of heaven checking if my soul was due?

I'd landed near a tire, whose tread was laced with snow
which buried in the mire, had nowhere else to go
and glimpsing my reflection in the hub which shined like new
I witnessed my deliverance, 'twas the light of God, it's true!

From somewhere deep within the smoky bellows of my ire
a verse from someone else's song which rose up like a choir
"Is it you my sweet beloved, come to raise me from my plight?...
for I've fallen in my drunken state this cold dark News Years Night!"

"And what have we beheld here, it's a woman in the snow
her hip looks out of socket though her face is all aglow"
They rushed me to the hospital and just in time for tea
which warmed the cockles of my heart and thawed my love for thee.

And never I've felt so foolish, though a fool I've been before
and every time I've done me wrong I'm laying on the floor
if maybe someone else's song will save them from their grave
then I'll take the shame on New Years Eve if just one soul I save!

All these years I've been a sinner, running circles, chasing youth,
with my hair as gray as winter I've come face to face with truth
Lying flat out on the sidewalk on that News Years Eve from hell
I learned to trust correction and I hope you're doing well.

Now I'm singing someone Else's song, for me it ain't that true
I don't get drunk on New Years Eye and rarely think of you
Well If one day you should meet me on the street where you might live,
just be sure to wave and greet me if you've got the time to give.

And never you'll feel so foolish, though you've been a fool before
 and every time you've done you wrong you're lying on the floor
 if maybe Someone Else's song will save you from your grave      
then take the shame on New Years Eve, if just your soul you save!
And never I've felt so foolish, though a fool I've been before
and every time I've done me wrong I'm laying on the floor
with roots in Jersey City, bought my boots right here on sale
Bayonne to blame, I'll take the shame if just one cab I hale.
3.3k · Sep 2013
Fat Back!
g clair Sep 2013
Oh,
my love
you know I long for you to hold me
though
my love
it seems your arms cannot enfold me

i got a
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
Ohhh!!!

and when
you tell me
that I am just the way you need me
tell me truly
is it the carbs or fat you feed me

you gimee
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
Ohhh!!

(bridge)

And it's true
that when we sleep, I lie behind you
and it's true
the morning sun can never find you

i got a
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
Ohhh!!!

i love your
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
fat back
front roll
yeah
yeah
yeah!!

FAT BACK!!!!
beby baby
Front roll
Mamma Mamma
Fat back
Daddy Daddy
oohhhh!!
oohhhh!!
oohhhh!!

Fat Back!
okay, it's not a poem. It's a fat back song.
2.9k · Aug 2014
barbershop harmony
g clair Aug 2014
SING the lines sweetly
not harsh or deranged
VERSES put neatly
to music arranged
IN four part harmony
music is kissed
HARMONY'S  angels
sing sevenths in mist...

Distant, my father
yet so close to me
singing his part  
to an old melody
someday we'll see him
for Jesus is there
Barbershop harmony
filling the air

sing with me sweetly
not harsh or deranged
verse written neatly
to music arranged....
2.8k · Oct 2013
The Poetry Wheel
g clair Oct 2013
Patterns are beautiful, made for the mind
repeating like seeding is safe to be sure
seeking to simplify, symmetry's kind
for rhythm needs weeding and rhyming's manure

what shoots from the seed is what God has put in it
but as for the crop, well it is all in our hands
the gift and the sower are so tied together
for everything planted has natural demands

and naturally we are the gift from The Giver
yet everything in us requiring care
practice and patience brings fruit from our talents
the giftings were planted to have and to share.  

Rhythm will gallop, a horse is a carrier
bringing the message to those who can hear
but some like to think that a rhyme is a barrier
blocking the flow of a message you fear.

I prefer waking to dreaming and napping
I tend to my garden and think as I ****
I work for a living, but energy sapping
I'll nap for a while and tend to my need.

Keeping the rhythm brings sleep to the soul
a sense of reality, comforting true
but once you are in it the pattern seems duller
and sleeping, mentality changes the hue

And isn't it good to be off of the grid
Hey poet! Come on then and let it pour out
where we can be freed from the usual bid
just open the tap and then capture the stout!

Fill up your mug with the amber to brown
out for amusment this cold autumn night
foam at the mouth, an oktoberfest clown
your writer desires a great ghastly fright

Hop on the ' Fear is',  it's not real scary
but simply a ride to a fabulous place
a mystery tour for the ones who are wary
unbuckle your belt and the heart starts to race.

Slowly the Fear Is beginning to lift you
go clockwise and wave to the folks on the ground
you wonder why Fear Is the name which was given
since riding this feels like a merry go round.

Peer through the branches
now bare in the darkness
searching for words
that are hanging like bats
the car starts a rocking
with door swinging open   
you're rambling bout nothin' but jeepers egats!

the floor opens up
now your seat is a kneeler
upon which you pray' for the down to come sooner
but onward and upward the wheel
unforgiving
keeps turning and climbing
with no time for rhyming
and you're just a windbag
along for the ride

closer to Heaven
beneath are the treetops
you're looking down farther
and out into blackness
the howling surrounds you
as wind blows in fiercely
in waves without pattern
just random and fragmented
moments unwritten
unplanned, unrehearsed
you're smitten and silly
both frightened and chilly
and groping for closure
your mind is immersed

below all this drama
you turn up your headset
and manage to drown out the
sound you might hear yet
it's still all around you
so far from the pavement
with nowhere to go and nowhere to hide!

While everyone down there
is bathed in the lamp light
the music is distant,
and riders are laughing
but you sit there babbling
for heights are your weakness
look up and then down and then closing your eyes!

you're nearing the top and the car starts to shudder
as if there's a quake and the pavement is cracking
you grab for the bar and it slips from your hand
you're  can't help but do it, you simply must stand!

the air seems to tempt you
to slide in your seating
toward the edge of your falling
and surely approaching
the top of the world and you laugh to yourself
in this floating dimension
you're drunk and alone and in knots
but it's good
'cause you're way up in Dreamland
rocking the cables
which hold you to safety
when suddenly everything suddenly stops!

Wait for a while
alone in the darkness
wondering what could be hap'ning below
a glitch in the workings, a crack in the coggery
what is the matter, your words aren't flowing

Dark days upon us, and wind chills can hover
you take down the canopy, blow off the cover
leaves scatter running and chased by the wind
but I, off my rocker am talked down again
carefully setting my feet on the ground
never quite getting away from the sound

it's that old beat for beat, that measure for measure
grapes of pure gall and fermenting displeasure
tasted enough to know this can't be real
while mashing my poems in the poetry wheel.
a dream is a ride that we write for ourselves
of our problems and faces we can't just erase

the dream tries to make sense of nothing quite sensibly
riding this dream I'm set free from the pace.
2.8k · Nov 2013
the gingerbread soldier
g clair Nov 2013
While hearing a jingle
from somebody's Marmy
I bake on a warm parchment sheet
Cut out to be single
but one in an army
of gingerbread men I will meet.

Don't know if I care
that this life is so scary
or just that I fear saying so
and not that I know
but I hear that it's hairy
out there so I'm just laying low

For better, for worse, I can promise far better for me
if we all had no clue
a blessing or curse
I'm gingerbread,  Ma'am
and a hell of a good soldier too.

We're golden brown guys
with a raisins for eyes
at first glance,  not by chance,  like the others
but The Gingerbread Men of Company Ten
have a mission: to stand with our brothers.

I'll fight to the end,
for I am what I am
  and that's reason enough to defend
just give me my gun
don my uniform, hon
my baker, my maker, my friend.

You've had all your fun
when the mixing was done
with rolling and stamping my fate.
I live now to serve
and not to be served
a desert on a decorative plate.

I was mixed up before
but I've figured the score
from the moment I came from the oven
that you had a plan
for this gingerbread man,
not my fight but my plight you'd be lovin'.

So just give me a hand
kindly help me to stand
and salute all the men who have gone
into battle for this
a man's right to exist
and be more than a treat to chew on.

and in fact, if you will
I'd much rather still
to be the manning the front lines, I'm itchin'
to run 'cross your floor and head straight for the door
to release all my men from your kitchen!
2.6k · Sep 2013
Pittance
g clair Sep 2013
I would rather you kept the change than reward my hard work with pittance. On second thought...I'll take it. Thanks.
g clair Mar 2014
have you ever felt shot into space
with nothing to hold to without any trace
of the one who was always around
who could laugh really hard and without any sound

and you fear that someday he will see
that you're mind is a strange one indeed, yet it's free!
to be up in the air and then down
hear that music that plays like a carnival sound

and it's something that's deep in your soul
from the day you first met he's been making you whole
cause he won't let you feel afraid,
fix you up when you're ****** and knows his first aid

Five of us kids to take care of
and all within seven short years
Leno then Beano then Bonzo then Labo then Damo
all laughter and tears.

It seems that we share the same feelings
about our ol' dad, and it's said
much better to share them while we are alive
than to wait until after we're dead.
  
and so I will write about Daddy
and because I am long with my word
my poems I will say can go on for a day,
and a night or so that's what I've heard.

To Tony, Loretta would cater
she cooked for the man who would date her
they married and so, and what do you know
three children would come along later.

Born October two four, nineteen hundred
and twenty eighth year of our Lord
at home, the first child of Tony and Rhetts
baby Vinny, was cut from the cord.

This sweet little Vincent Morrone
raised up in by my Nonna and Tony
quickly stuck in his ways, from the start of his days
and could size up the truth from a phony.

He grew up in old Jersey City
where he polished the width of his witty
had a sister named Claire who remembers him there
dear old dad, handsome lad, and she's pretty.

Their brother was born sometime later
our sweet uncle Jerry Morrone
Handsome and good and well liked in the hood
got those genes and that same funny bone.

 After Highschool, staff sergeant in Air Force
guiding take offs and landings, his post
Four years of St Pete, put him smart on the street  
and he left for the likes of our coast.

He was offered a job down in Jackson
elementary dear Watson, it's said
he would fall for another young teacher, a screecher
whose sassiness got to his head

He married our mother, that's Jacquie
they really were some kind of a pair
she knew he was smart, liked his looks and his heart
and respected the good that was there.

So five days a week Dad would teach
and he liked those nine months of the year
but he lived for the summers at Jenkinson's beach
where that salt water pool was so clear.

in a torn old white sweatshirt and plaid shorts
he was sharing a Bud at the fence
loved his mower and pool, and that backyard was cool
much more like a park, you would sense.

we know how he hated the gurlic
and that onions would just make him hurlick
my mother would never use any such thing
he could drive her to sing like Steve Urlick.
( did I do that?)

No qualms about eating cold hotdogs
and cheddar in chunks from red foil
liked his eggplant cut thin, and his gravy could win
a blue ribbon, the secret? No spoil!!

Could deliver a joke like Bob Newhart
or a pun just for fun was sublime
he was always aware, but for crowds, didn't care
unless it was harmony time.

Best one on one at a party
but the life when it came to his cracks
made small talk okay, but preferred just to stay
to the side and be watching the acts.

Old Spice and that weekender stubble
did his thing and his speaking was soft
he was never a man to cause trouble
but he'd tell you when something was off.

McDonalds and corn on the cob
smoked a pipe, did not curse, and was never a slob
though I know he was not always neat
he was clean, never smelled, never spit in the street.

taught us never to take wooden nickels
and he loved a fresh jar of those kosher dill pickels
drove a large Orange bug in the day
with a driver side  SPEBSQSA

he wiped off my face with his thumb
that he'd lick first to clear away jelly and crumb
and he'd always be there in a pinch
if I needed his help, he was there, not a Grinch!

He was always the Good Humored one
bought us Ice cream and took us to places for fun
an occasional "word to the wise
you've cashed in your chips
and don't hand me your lies."

and the one who would walk me not once
but twice down the aisle of heartache and gloom
as a wife I have failed, a dunce
yet dismissing that elephant out of the room.

and tried not to laugh at my lot
at my barrenness, troubles and all of that snot
took me back to this place for some peace
never charged me a dime, not a landlord with lease
but a man with the mercy he knows
he understood sometimes that's just how life goes

and suddenly everything's changed
I am fifty two times around, feeling deranged
and it's not because I need a crutch
feeling lost in this world  
which I've lived in and such

but that I have been shot into space
having lost what I loved, it's my dad's loving face
and I'm here in the house that he bought
it's the one where we loved and the one where
we fought

and I cried here at length at the table
feeling shot into space, as if I am unable
to cope with the loss of my dad,
with the loss of his smile  and the voice that he had

and the place that he had in my life
in my heart....in my head...in my mind...So I climbed
to room where my dear daddy slept
and I laid on that bed and I wept and I wept
feeling shot into space I recalled that man's face
and I reached for the  tissues he kept in that place

and in one second flat, as I blew
from the nose of his likeness,  I knew and it's true
I was beamed back from space
into someone's embrace
and believe me, as if my dad knew...

For my father was known to be punny
always quick with the wit, such a honey
he would tell me to write, for it was his delight
that his children were his kind of funny.

I am never to think I am odder
for I am what I am, my dad's daughter
I hear distant strumming and now my dad humming
the theme song from Welcome Back Kotter.

http://youtu.be/5VlGyMG0ksg
My dad was a teacher and enjoyed music, jokes, puns, crow sounds, barbershop harmony, golfing, wearing certain colors which made him look good,  his own family, grandchildren, crossword puzzles. spy novels, movies. hotdogs, eggplant parm, radio talk shows, good food at the same restaurant, the Chapter House. Singing Barbershop harmony a tear jerker song or movie, peace and quiet. mowing the lawn and working in the yard, his car, a little whiskey sour or a cold Bud in the summer. BBQ out back. Football. Baseball. Ice cream. root beer floats. smoked a pipe ( the smell of sweet pipe tobacco still reminds me), applesauce with cinnamon , apricot jam, my cookies.  etc.
2.5k · Sep 2013
dissed
g clair Sep 2013
I understand just what was said
She said it how she meant it
"Whaduh bidnit idit a YOU who ma baby daddy id?"
Just typed it out and sent it.

I kinda do the same thing
and in the 8th grade spelling bee
Spelt it just the way it sounded
don't care 'cause YOU don't know ME!

Johndissed.
J-0-H-N-D-I-S-S-E-D
Johndissed.
(Bing)

I'm not bothered.
g clair Nov 2013
For any time the urge to wring
an autumn gourd, this one's the thing
Smashing pumpkins, not so nice
but Butternut Squash, an honest vice

Long and beige, hard and smooth
you'd never guess it's power to sooth
that underneath the toughest skin
is meat like pumpkin, seeds within

A steamy bisque for autumn's chill,
peel and chop them as you will
Dump them into four cups broth*
add apple, pear, or applesauce

a cup or two will do just fine
and while you stand there, have some wine!
sautee onions, a cup and a half
dump them in and cry or laugh

and now to add your seasoning stuff
cumin, curry, nutmeg, Fluff
hold the Fluff, that ain't the truth
best to pull that old sweet tooth

Bisque is savory, better than sweet
warms the cockles, heart to feet
save your sweets for pumpkin pie
the after-apple of your eye

Back to seasonings, see above
a quarter teaspoon, more with love
I add pepper and take a gander
some folks call for coriander

heat the whole thing to a boil
for me, my crock ***'s always loyal
crock at high, about four hours
or low for six, and bring some flowers!

And now I'll play a little game
change my words to mean the same
if cook is butter and ****** is squash
then butter dat ****** and ****** dat gnosh

when you're hungry, under the wudder
ain't nuttin' better 'en butternut chudder
add some cream and squash your mash
mash your squash and whip your pash

I used a blender to make it creamy
cooked it down, so thick and steamy
add some butter, parsley's fine
butternut bisque with bread and wine!

Ahhhh!!!!!

*chicken broth
I love discovering that I can cook something as good as that which I can order in a restaurant, and this recipe is as easy as it is delicious! I made this bisque on the 31st of Oct and while it cooked, bragged up a carrot cake ( with crushed pineapple, raisins and walnuts. Well didn't I feel like Martha Stewart!" YES!  This is the best recipe. Just as good as any I have had out. Enjoy!
2.3k · Dec 2015
night bugs
g clair Dec 2015
I stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do

I looked to the west as the day slowly faydeedid
turned up the volume of cricket and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs for the rest of our lives

Back in the house now, I roll down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters, which drawn by the lure of the light
make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright

we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives

too many months have passed without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs I'm fearing
I nearly lost hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of my life

Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
g clair Mar 2014
Minding our own
barely making it rhyme,
it's all coming out
there's dust in the drought
but the rain comes in time.

Nothing held back
I've got nothing to say,
let it roll off my shoulders
puts less your mind
and it's better that way.

(hum or sing chorus)
All I wanted
      porch
             swing
                 rhythm~
                           back
              and
     forth
            with you, babe
                         All I needed
                          porch
                 swing
        rhythm
back
       and
                  forth
                with you.

And isn't this nice?
you like hot tea on ice
thank you, yes, I can follow directions
so please don't think twice.
And isn't this great?
we can stay out real late
watching millions of sparkling stars
while you're lickin' that plate?

Bridge---( can you hear it?)

I said nothing at all
it's that horse in the stall
my foot fell asleep but I'm not gonna weep
I can drag it or crawl.

Now the wind's in the trees
and your hand's on my knees
and the warmth of your breath on my neck
puts my tired mind at ease.

All I wanted
      porch...
                    swing...
            rh­ythm..
    back...
              and...
        forth...
        ­with you babe
                         All I needed
                          porch
                 swing
        rhythm
back
       and
                  forth
                with you.

Minding our own
making it rhyme,
it's all coming out
and there's dust in the drought
but you rain comes in time...

Distracted, it's true
idle chatter won't do
Better nothing to say
put the music on play
and be quiet
with you.

All I wanted
      porch...
                    swing...
            rh­ythm..
    back...
              and...
        forth...
        ­with you babe
                         All I needed
                          porch
                 swing
        rhythm
back
       and
                  forth
                with you.
A daydream, then a poem, then a song....someday a reality.
2.2k · Sep 2013
outdoorsman
g clair Sep 2013
the
boonies
where you are
in the outback, and
the middle of nowhere, but
y'all like callin' it "God's Country"
because it's a place which is tended by God
where businessmen have yet to overrun and ravage
to fell forests,and clear acres of land for cozy developments
and it's a place where you are dangerously closer
to the wild elements and are self-reliant
comfortably near to the natural
free of the 'pressures' who
could encroach upon
your space and
freedoms
wow
2.1k · Jan 2014
Sunshine Girl
g clair Jan 2014
With a beaming smile that could warm the tile
She came flying down the corridor
the sun was setting, so i asked her heading
and she said, "I'm going to Florider!"

Well she seemed to like to talk
and I really love to listen
so I pressed her for the details
and her eyes began to glisten.

"I been staying in this rest home
since I lost my dear departed"
and I asked her when he died and she said,
"No, I meant my leg".

So we stood there, well I stood there and
she sat in her new wheel chair
I asked her what's her hurry.
and if she's gonna get a peg.

And she said:
"Maybe if I lose this weight~
Gotta get down to 220
but the trouble is I love to eat.
I know it's not that funny."

"I've had my share of heart attacks
and twice I had a stroke
Buried my husband and lost the house
and gee I love to smoke"

"I can't move these three fingers
but I manage in this chair
on nice days take it to the road
for excercise and air".

She went on to share her story
was from somewhere up in Queens
married twice without children
and lived well within her means.

She talked about her childhood home
and how chemicals from the pool
splashed onto the strawberry patch
and the fruit was the size of a stool.

The best of all of her stories
was one about her dad
who had worked for Sunshine Biscuits,
but once fell into a vat.

no sooner had she told me
that I knew I'd have to write
a lymric for this lady
whose smile brings such delight.

The folks at Sunshine found him
pulled him out but hound him
was one lucky catch, 'til he met his batch
when those lady fingers done nearly drowned him.
2.1k · Dec 2014
Uncle Leo
g clair Dec 2014
Poetry, Hello!
2.1k · Aug 2014
On the Fringe ( repo)
g clair Aug 2014
Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

She's your favorite pillow on a double wide recliner
or your front porch Adirondack with your early evening stogie
peace and quiet is the theme of your real life day-dream
the only noise you want to hear is from your 60 inch flat screen
with surround sound and remote, watching oldies you old goat,
Twilight Zone and Walking Dead, you've got Stooges in your head, and all the talkshows and the news  is in between

you're not hangry, you're not mean, Freedom understands your bean
with your crockpot full of chili you've been full since you've left Philly
and don't really need a maid around in fact the thought seems silly
you can cook and you can clean, you can work from home and preen
occupied  with daily orders and you like to clean your quarters
you've got all the latest gadgets you're not wanting for a house guest
since deliveries come daily  thank the UPS guy, Bailey
and by now you're feeling quite blessed
'cause the shipping on your stuff is mostly free.

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

On those days you're feeling needy, there's that lady at the counter
who knows you by your first name and the waitress with her smile
and the few words back and forth let's you know she recognizes you
remembers how you like your coffee since you come for breakfast weekly
and it's so nice to chat with Kathy for a while.

Who could blame you, loving freedom since she doesn't seem to take
but will fill your heart with pleasure never make your head to ache
never needing any comfort, never waiting at the table
after cookingup your favorite, never asking you to come home
from wherever else you're hanging never asking any questions
always free from expectations who could measure up to Freedom's wit and charm?

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

So called friends there on your Facebook clinging to your every word
as if coming from a guru when you're feeling like a nerd.
they applaud your sense of humor, all the items you are SHARING
and they LIKE the way you're looking and the way you that you respond
for your intellect is hooking and you're forming a close bond
over politics and reason, like your thoughts on this election
and the president and treason or the stuff that you've been cookin'
yeah, you've got a wife named freedom and I know, if you can't beat 'em
I'd be wise to choose my freedom over you.

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

Now you've filled up all your neediness without a real lover
hey there now but that's your business between you and Freedom's cover
as for women, you don't need 'em cause you've sworn off love for living
and for sure you love your Freedom and to these ends you watch your giving.
Now you're turning up the music and then you're surfing through your favorites
and flipping through the channels and those periodic moments
gotta catch up on your reading,organize your book collection
get your Ebay up and running you can do without direction
or distraction or attention

do the laundry
mow the lawn
fix what's broken
nothings wrong

Come closer won't you, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hanging on the
fringe of my heart
it's that white knuckled fear
surely Freedom stands near
and you dare not even tell her you're afraid.

maybe you go and take a shower and then shave for like an hour
don't forget to flush the toilet, boil an egg and eat some yogurt
top if off with some granola plan your week out, date with Lola
watch the leaves fall and then scatter,
rake 'em up
'cause these things matter,
crack a beer and catch a rerun
never mind the stuff that's undone...

Somewhere deep inside you, you are still the same old lonely
as you were the other year, never mind that second beer
think you realize you miss me, bet sometimes you'd like to kiss me
holding hands while watching TV, maybe someone just to talk to
and to laugh at all your old jokes and to share a little something
that you whipped up in your crockpot, glass of wine, latte or mocha
never mind, let's dance the polka, right that tightness in your shoulder
like John Lennon and his Yoko...

You decide to dial my number  
I usually don't usually like to answer
on the first ring  but by chance, you're
  saying something, wait a second
'cause I gotta turn my sound down
oh you're singing something funny,
and I like your phone voice honey
it's this old familiar tune I wrote for you

"Come closer to me, Dear
my loving friend
you're always out there hangin'
on the fringe of my heart
with your white knuckled fear
for our freedom stands near
and we dare not even tell her we're afraid"

For my dear old friend, a confirmed bachelor, who goes by Poppy, or Bubba.
1.9k · Oct 2013
Five-Minute Oats
g clair Oct 2013
Pacing the floor in the middle of this
watching the kettle 'til steam starts to hiss
A strange fascination we have with the bliss
with nothing behind us but one heated kiss.

Underneath an umbrella I stand in the rain
and wait on the platform for the six o'clock train
well you never quite hold me and I rarely complain
and soaked with frustration I walk home again.

We bid for each other in some Chinese auction
and you got the ***** one mixed up concoction
we checked out our prizes at a much closer range
What were we thinking and can we exchange?

And without any memories to dry up the tears
we long for the fire and the comfort of years
but it's just one more lesson, a good one we learned.
the slow-cooker is better and we're less often burned.

And then as I ponder you come in the door
I smile at your tired eyes and looking for more
I stir up the *** as you take off your Totes
and you ask me to make you some Five-Minute Oats.

"I made 'em already to warm up your cockles
the seat of your heart and without the debacles
I sensed that the cold rain would stir the desire
so I whipped up a batch and rekindled the fire".

And inspite of my rambling it seems rather clear
that Five-Minute Oats can mean something more dear
it's that person who waits in your kitchen above
stirring Five Minute oats into passionate love.

-Gina Morrone
1.9k · Sep 2013
Big Ass Rocker
g clair Sep 2013
Last Christmas Eve, that's when I found her
big *** rocker, lying in the trash
'neath layers of paint, magnolia flowers
still blooming, carved in oak or ash

it's been a while since you've been rockin'
passed along through the hands of time
the story's in you, but you're not talkin'
buried in layers of paint and grime

can't deny she's looking older
halfway home to the pearly gate
a sadder thing the day they sold her
wired her well but sealed her fate

and I declare before I found you
my heart was smoldering in smoke and ash
and I can guess just why they left you
one man's lover, another man's trash

once restored and in your glory
rocking chair, I'll see you though
your wood will breathe and meet the floor boards
worn with time but good as new

Now grab a hold of that big **** rocker
drag her out to the slanty porch
say lookee here you're fit for rockin'
and this old can still carries the torch

we'll work it out, I'm still believing
God's in His rocker at the pearly gate
And here we'll sit with my guitar and
surely bend the rhythm straight!
g clair Nov 2013
please forgive the slanty line
between the words and common rhyme
It's gotten out of hand, oh man, just sayin'
nothing's worse but what what I mean
a rhyming verse is not obscene
yet hardly worth the birth of notes I'm playin'

better to be out of words
than force the ones you've always heard
and bore you more with punctual partition
set in golden platitude
I'm working on my attitude
a sadder dude would swear he's near Perdition

I try to keep it off the cuff
but sinking low, enough's enough
and just as rough to find a way to end it
not poetic suicide
my own phonetic cuter side
to find the brokenness and try to mend it

thankful for the little things
the corny rhymes and onion rings
the stuff my dad would say to make us smile
that subtle joke, so funny Dad
and gee I miss you, now I'm sad
and hope to see you soon
" Just wait a while".
So there it is. Grief. Has to come up and it's healing. Dad would always want to hear my latest poems. He loved all of them and would say 'Get that published!"  One of Dad's common lines was " Wait a while." I miss my dad so much and it is always a comfort to pray to God and ask him to give my dad a hug for me. Tell him I miss him. Often times when I am just being quiet and waiting for God to speak to me, I will get a line which is my Dad's kind of humor....Always a comfort and like a healing balm to my heart.
1.8k · Sep 2013
An Unlikely Story
g clair Sep 2013
Like sugar from a shaker, snow falls on Saul the baker
delivering steamy biscuits from the shop he calls his home
to a drafty run down mansion where the princess on her pension
can be testy with her tension, hence she's living on her own.

Today he took her order, "One fresh bagel, for a quarter
'cause I haven't seen the likes of one since I left my childhood home".
Well he'd never baked a bagel, but he's not one to finagle
and wanting just to please her, finds a recipe from Rome.

And he's thinking to himself, "I must be way out of mind~
no woman's gonna want a baker's life"
but he carries deep inside his heart, the will to be a friend
hoping someday she will come around and one day be his wife.

So to win her deep affection he packs up his best confection
takes his chances on the back roads, now iced over in the storm.
Finds her waiting in the foyer with her thrifty 5 cent lawyer
complaining 'bout the day old bread and... "this bagel isn't warm!"
So..... he heats it on the fire, 'cause her heart is his desire
but she won't accept the bagel for it's not quite the right form

And he's thinking to himself, "I must be way out of mind
no woman gonna want a baker's life"
but he carries deep inside his heart, the will to be a friend
hoping someday she will come around and one day be his wife.

So he runs back to his bagel board and pounds the dough and rolls a cord
and shapes the perfect circle to a bagel lovers dream,
He boils and then he bakes it and to her mansion then he takes it
piping hot but now she wants it with churned butter from fresh cream!

Well he's starting to get antsy but he knows the farmer, Clancy
whose butter is fresh-churned and known by counties far and wide.
He heads out to the pasture and he buys what he is after
and returns to find, 'tis so unkind, the princess, she had died.

The baker in his stricken state swallows the bagel off the plate
he calls the cops, pulls out the stops and serves the day old bread.
He gives the details more than once of how he ate the evidence
and though he thought his story bought, they arrested him instead.

"Tis a likely story", was the only thing he heard
although they'd bought his baked goods, they could not buy his word.
"The Baker is a Butcher", is what the tabloid said,
"better to take your bagel cold than take it in the head."

But all was not as it appears, she owed the butcher in arrears
and when they went to check her craw they found a hunk of mutton.
It ended all without a trial, the butcher he did reconcile
and posted "Pay the butcher now and do not to be a glutton."

And Saul was thinking to himself, " I must be way out of mind",
no woman's gonna want a baker's life",
but he carried deep inside his heart the will to be a friend
and it turned rather nicely as she willed him in the end.
1.8k · Mar 2014
Love Is Hairy
g clair Mar 2014
Love is hairy, stubbly stuff
shave all week it's never enough
whether I shave it or slather on Nair
whack it or hack it will always be there.

Keeps coming back as much as you crop it
waxing and chemicals can’t even stop it
try to ignore it, the nubs comes in thick
even my eyebrows, a uni-brow chick.

Come Saturday I don’t really care
let it grow outta my underwear
Let it alone, that unruly mop
looks like I got me a nice bumper crop

This is my way, ain’t gonna change
my love and my hair are looking deranged
Sitting there pondering love and love's looks
flippin’ through Cosmo and metrosex books

Beauty is bare in my favorite rag
Nary a hairy or haggard old nag
Eyebrows are separate and carefully arched
Lips are injected and never seem parched.

Legs are **** smooth, and so are are the pits
Love is not given to hairy chick fits.
Speaking of nares, mine is exempt
The nose and the ears are extremely well kempt.

Sunday mornin’ rolls around
but his razor can’t be found....
I call out his name and wait for an answer
his ditty bag’s gone could It be that dancer?

The one that he watches the one he admires
could she be the one whose igniting his fires?
I’ve seen her there waiting the picture of grace
smooth, fair and agile not a hair out of place

I sit on the edge of the tub shocked and numb
look in the mirror then look at my thumb
I eye up the woman whose not spent a dime
on personal pleasures as though it’s a crime

My overgrown garden could not see the light
missed out on the sweetness, bare skin’s delight
Bought into myth and every girls hope
that she’d still be worth something without any soap.

Rummaged around in a drawer feeling sick
through my tears I lay hold of my old Lady Bic
Slipped into the shower convinced he despised me
lathered and cried, none of this has surprised me

He'd seemed a bit distant, preoccupied,
the more I persisted, the less satisfied
I should have considered my Love is not blind
his eyes are like sponges his vision will find

The best of the beauties the cream of the crop
as sweet sugar blossoms parade past his shop
I have an epiphany there in the suds
Time's never wasted on pruning the buds

Better to nip 'em if you're feelin manly
can't be mistaken for Charles or Stanley.
Lord knows the time I've put in at Curves
not that i see any good that it serves

So who really cares if he's after that minx
just between us we know how she stinks
Let him go sister try rising above
'cause if that's all he's after it ain't really love.

Making my plans to rip up his picture
wipe out his memory no longer a fixture
I can't say that I needed nor much that I cared
for the man or his ***** laundry I've aired

When into my steamy retreat disconcerted
the voice of the man I was sure had deserted.
I silence my heart and put down the Bic
ease back the curtain and see my St. Nick

The hairy faced heathen battered and worn
face kind of prickly needs to be shorn.
'What is THIS? 'he demands and holds out his hand
'Why, a worn out old mach 3, the triple edge brand! '

"I just CHANGED this blade and the thing's dull and rusted!"
"Heck if I know", but I know I’ve been busted.
Step out of the shower bare skin drippin' wet
'At this rate I think I’ll buy stock in Gillette.'

I hold out my Bic and smile at old Bones
"Would you like me to light your cigar, Mr. Jones?"
Leave him to his business, which won’t include the shave
Love is stubbly,love is soft and hairy to the grave.
1.7k · Sep 2013
my dearest moenhead
g clair Sep 2013
dearest moenhead,
i am so deeply relieved that you are here for me
when I walk in the door
silently waiting to comfort me after a long day.
I look up at your beautiful head,
yes, I have neglected you~ there is rust collecting in your pores,
and tears welling up in your sparkling grey eyes
I wonder how long you have been going on like this?
Oh come now. Don't be cold. I'm home!
We can be together, right?
I turn up the heat
no wasting time
I turn you on, warm you up,
and step into your powerful flow of pure joy...
You shower me with kindness, gently massaging
away my every ache,
all the day's tension down the drain
oh you are the best~
under your washful forgiving eyes,
freed from from the distraction of self awareness,
lost in the luxury of suds and pelting pleasure,
i seem to melt into the cheap fiberglass casing.
but you...
you transform ordinary water into liquid gold and
make this place feel more like a resort
taking me away to places no Calgon bath could ever dream of
oh showerhead,
I can barely stand to be out from under your steaming streams~
your warming current of comfort
washing all the days crud off of me
making me feel clean, energized, vibrant and youthful again
ready to face the world or my dreams.
Showerhead,
sediment notwithstanding,
I am happiest when I am with you.
I am a better person.
you make me feel alive again,
and though I have tried to articulate this into meaningful words,
words are unable to express my gratitude, for alas,
you can never know what you mean to me.
Just know that you are the most wonderful and awesome shower i have ever had,
there is none like you.
from the bottom of my sole,
thank you. All my love,
Geegirl
g clair Oct 2014
Golden words penned long ago
when I was young and zesty
occupied with lofty things
perhaps a lot less testy.

That which clouds my vision
tragic losses which destroyed
sweet perceptions
dark deceptions
left me underjoyed.

Of boyfriends unattainable
rejection would then smite
the hope of finding love,
which left me
just a bit uptight.

in the stretch to earn a living
well my boss is kind of rough
In trying to say something nice I'm on ice
cuz she's hard-headed, driving, and tough.

The high cost of living and then there's the tax
puts a strain on my old bank account
but that backbiting backriding queen battleaxe
can jump from the ground to the mount.

and every day's the same old thing
like a hamster on the wheel
the same old thing is looking old
and I’m feeling cold as steel.

but still I ignore the passing of time
and balance hard work with clean fun
and believing that this is as good as it gets
I'll settle for less than the one.

seeking distraction from everything dull
and attracted to that which you are
I read self help books while you eats what I cooks
and you're lost in the Harper's Bazaar.

My cellulite was ill replete
and disappointments grew
and long before the smog moved in
it choked the thrill from you.

and out of this stress comes the need to digress
so we sleep and we play and we drink
and we drain our desires and ***** up our wires
and leave our *** life on the brink.

Simple amusements, the clutter of things
common to man and his beast
from the pretense of knowledge and so many things
to the Thanksgiving holiday feast.

And now we're blown out, you lie and I shout
there's a palpable distance that's haunted
I long for the day when you'd hold me and say
that I'm the THE ONE you've always wanted.

But now mediocre, you opt to play poker
and run with a sweatpool of stink
and hoping to find something good on the street
in the morning you feel like a fink.

Left to your own devices
sleeping soundly, your heart's one desire
for passion it waits, while the office debates
and will do so until you expire.

Displacing my anger I'm less satisfied
and will never see straight, as you'll see
my own crooked finger was put through the wringer
and now it points straight back at me.
g clair Apr 2014
a throughbred ran
leaping over wood hurdles
confident he could.

an old mare ran
stopped just short of the hurdle
apathy and fear.

a pony tail ran
just clearing the wood hurdles
feeling like a horse.

a young white horse ran
"now just hold on there Wilber
not all horses jump."
Nonsense poems
1.6k · Oct 2013
the neighborhood play
g clair Oct 2013
when you're out in the field
want to go for the double
just throw to first base
and without any trouble
the guy who is running
to second is out
though you side stepped that base
and the umpire did shout
the rules are the rules
but not in this case
with the neighborhood play
you can throw to first base.

YEEERRRRROUT!
1.6k · Oct 2014
Night Bugs
g clair Oct 2014
Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
can't lie, not the first time I'm thinking of you
but the night bugs are out, life's distractions will do

I looked to the west as the day slowly fadyded
turned up the volume of cricket and katydid
rhythm rubs life in the darkness outside
steer clear of the blue light or get yourself fried

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives
bittersweet bugs for the rest of our lives

Back in the house now, I roll down the screen
protecting myself from the lurking unseen
from the critters, which drawn by the lure of the light
make feast in their famine on food, flesh and fright

we handle the things that intrude in our spaces
the bugs in the dark and the unwanted faces
we roll down the screens and we listen to voices
those sweet summer sounds, and this night bug rejoices

With the zapper you took out the skeeters and flies
while spiders and ants faced the raider's demise
yellow jackets and wasps, you chased from their hives,
but these night bugs are here for the rest of our lives

too many months have passed without hearing
the music which blends with the night bugs I'm fearing
I nearly lost hope for those sounds in my life
but these night bugs revive good ol' summertime strife
bittersweet bugs, for the rest of my life

Stood on the ledge of my sleepy blue sorrow
back from the edge, guess I'll see you tomorrow
g clair Feb 2014
Ears hear, eyes read, mind processes, heart feels, tongue speaks and/or  hands type/sign or motion.

The cycle was set in place with creation.

In a forum such as this, people share and those of us in this cyber coffee shop read.  

A miracle is communication, and the degree to which the speaker/writer/artist needs to be seen and appreciated varies.

To some, the need for recognition trumps his perceived need to create.

To others, the appreciation seems the icing on the cake of their heart's musings.

Others may be embarrassed in the spotlight, but still appreciate the attention.

Nevertheless, the miracle of communication, the cycle and mechanism through which man can share his art, as well as the wonderful freedom to connect and respond as freely as one chooses is often overlooked.

Taken for granted...abused, neglected, uncelebrated.

We can appreciate simply or we can use this communication to receive, process and question and learn things about other people, their experiences, thoughts and beliefs.

Their input serves to stimulate our thinking and either shut us down and turn us away, or send us on adventure of mind and spirit.

Words  have the power to excite the soul and find reason for existence.

They can also hurt, stemming from situation, temperament, past hurts internalized, or out of misunderstanding.

Our own vulnerabilities/sensitivities from past violation of our boundaries  leave us open for hurt. Lack of boundaries...a cause for so many problems in communication, and yet....poetry seems to invite us in for tea, to make us feel understood . Comments welcome. We hope people are nice. I hope people are nice. ( steps aside from podium) You all seem nice. I close with these words.

I truly appreciate communication, especially through this comment feature and the channel ( my laptop)  through which it exists, not simply the internet.

I direct all thanks to my parents and ultimately my husband, my lord and my maker, the one and only Supernatural Jesus Christ. ( nod to guy in the plaid shirt over there, who also goes by Jesus). Almost done. The following a poem I wrote about what I had thought to be a bully, but truly my own bullheadedness.

" Shooting The Bull"

Once owned a Ford Taurus though often it's said
a Ford on the roadside is probably dead.
I never let stuff like that go to my head
I know how it is to be down.
Ran my hand over the gun metal grey
if it was a horse we'd have galloped away
but the oil was blackened and so that fine day
I decided to take it to town.

My husband was known for mechanical skill
took pride in his work, though I battled his will
I knew he was right about everything, still
I wanted to have my own way.
It was his contention that I was a pain
he often made comments that seemed so inane
I knew that he thought I was lacking a brain
at the technical end of the day.

He said he would change it the next Saturday
still I thought to myself,  "There's a much better way
at Jiffy **** service is good, and they say
that it takes them no more than ten minutes".
Five minutes to get there and five minutes in
they offered to clean up my ***** engine
I gladly accepted, and paid for the gin
or whatever that mixture had in it.

Back at the house, feeling quite satisfied
a little bit nervous on account of his pride
but the Taurus can't wait, 'cause what if it died?
and think of the money we saved!
Well he wasn't at home, so then I could relax
I got dressed for work, while rehearsing the facts
then drove to my work, and in one hour max
the Taurus it bucked, then it caved.

Squeaked into the place where my money was earned
I called him and naturally he was concerned
we had it towed out, I felt angry and burned
now I needed a brand new transmission.
I try not to dwell on the past or road ****
we all have our issues, they bother me still
I'm often quite stubborn, and always a pill
but once in a while now, I listen.
g clair Dec 2015
I'm told a man from Nazareth
a carpenter, had planned His death
from somewhere way before the birth of time
would be a thing worth finishing
for none could wear His wedding ring
until the final pardon for their crime.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

And taken from the midst of sin
an undeserving place I'm in
beneath the cross, I stare up at The One
whose blood poured down that gruesome day
in pain the man was heard to say
with his last breath, "That's it, My Work is Done." *

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

They took his body torn and dead
removed the thorns which pierced his head
and crying for this Man they'd come to love
wrapped him gently in the way
as was the custom of the day
without a doubt, they questioned God above.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

Now placed inside a darkened tomb
and sealed in stone by soldiers whom
could not be caught asleep lest they would pay
but something happened as He planned
His tomb was somehow left unmanned
as angels rolled the stone aside that day.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

So WHO IS THIS who claims to save
in three days risen from the grave
who paid a debt which we could n'er afford~
now written into history
He wrote the world a mystery
and solved it one day, cause that's my Lord.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

Fulfilling every prophecy
the Only One my heart can see
is Jesus Christ, be sure you cannot hide
you'll face Him on your dying day
my One True Love who's made a way
to cover and protect his precious bride!

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!
* More precisely " It is finished" . " Later, knowing that all was now completed (teleō), and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled (teleioō), Jesus said, "I am thirsty" ... When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished (teleō)." With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." (John 19:28, 30)

These three words derive from the same Greek root, telos, which means "end" --  primarily a termination point, then by extension, the end to which all things relate, the aim, the purpose.53

"Completed / finished / accomplished" in verses 28 and 30 is the related verb teleō, "to complete an activity or process, bring to an end, finish, complete something." With regard to time, it means, "come to an end, be over."54 Moreover the tense of this verb is important to us --  perfect tense (tetelestai). In Greek the perfect tense signifies a past action, the effect of which continues into the present. It has been completed and is still complete. The effect of the tense in this verb is a sense of finality.

In the last couple of centuries scholars have found thousands of papyrus scraps with Greek writing on them. Many of these are mundane commercial documents in which we find this word. Moulton and Milligan pored over many of these receipts and contracts to better understand New Testament Greek. They observed that receipts are often introduced by the phrase tetelestai, usually written in an abbreviated manner indicating that the bill had been paid in full.55 The obligation has been completed. The debt has been paid off. Tetelestai --  it is finished.  Read more:
https://carm.org/it-is-finished
1.5k · Sep 2013
Icicle
g clair Sep 2013
She went walking  in the snow
slipped on the black ice
and down she did go
tried to get up but
it was too slick
and so she
lay there
freezing
feeling
alone
like
an
I
C
E
C
I
C
L
E
but
then
a nice
man with
warm hands
reached down
and lifted her up
he held her close and
picked her up and melted
her in his strong arms. She'd like
to think that he was her guardian angel.
1.5k · Oct 2013
Heartache
g clair Oct 2013
He
Endures
All
Rotten
Things
And
Considers
Himself
Endearing.
1.5k · Nov 2015
5 minute oats
g clair Nov 2015
Pacing the floor in the middle of this
watching the kettle 'til steam starts to hiss
A strange fascination we have with the bliss
with nothing behind us but one heated kiss.

Underneath an umbrella I stand in the rain
and wait on the platform for the six o'clock train
well you never quite hold me and I rarely complain
and soaked with frustration I walk home again.

We bid for each other in some Chinese auction
and you got the ***** one mixed up concoction
we checked out our prizes at a much closer range
What were we thinking and can we exchange?

And without any memories to dry up the tears
we long for the fire and the comfort of years
but it's just one more lesson, a good one we learned.
the slow-cooker is better and we're less often burned.

And then as I ponder you come in the door
I smile at your tired eyes and looking for more
I stir up the *** as you take off your Totes
and you ask me to make you some Five-Minute Oats.

"I made 'em already to warm up your cockles
the seat of your heart and without the debacles
I sensed that the cold rain would stir the desire
so I whipped up a batch and rekindled the fire".

And inspite of my rambling it seems rather clear
that Five-Minute Oats can mean something more dear
it's that person who waits in your kitchen above
stirring Five Minute oats into passionate love.
1.5k · Oct 2013
Uncle John's Story
g clair Oct 2013
He's Uncle John to you, but John to the rest of us
Got a way of telling stories without the fanfare or the fuss
He can jump into any conversation, has a lot of stuff to say
and every bit is interesting 'cause that always been John's way.

There was one about his summer job before 1970,
paid to push a Swan-shaped boat off a dock in Asbury
With a grapple hook on a ten foot pole, or something of that sort
well he'd push 'em out and pull 'em in wasn't doing it for sport~
The same guy who owned the swan boats, tunneled love across the way
twice a week John worked the darkness, but preferred the light of day.

Played rhythm at the Upstage in band called 'Cory' later
workin' Perkins in West Belmar, took the name from the percolator
Around that time he grew his hair out, it was like an Afro-sheen
mistaken for Tinker, a surfboard chinker and drummer with Springsteen.

Cruisin' down around Brookdale in his '39 LaSalle
Met 'Stinky' Tink at Thompson Park, where he was singing with his pal

Hey John, you look like Tinker,
but now you favor Gere
a live ringer for Mike Richards,
and don't forget DeNir-

Oh, if you can't remember anything from 40 years ago
just ask your Uncle John who knows the time in Tokyo.
In memory of my sister's brother in law John Anthony Farrell, Coast Guard Auxiliary, beloved brother, uncle and friend. RIP Uncle "Leprechaun John"....One hat off and one hat on!
1.5k · Sep 2013
PMS
g clair Sep 2013
***
you have the look they say could ****
well i'm not dead, though sufferin' still.

i have a mind to tell your mother
the way you smile when you're with the other.

she'd say she warned me at the start
not to burp and hold the ****.

whatever, no matter, i really don't care
im not even bothered, just gimme some air.

let me rip this old rug up
it stinks of old **** de la pup.

i had a gripe to air today
so I let it out and blew you away.

n'er the mare before the cart
show me your money and then your heart.

gimme a kiss, and make it quick
I can't take pleasure, it gets me sick.

a house that smells of fresh cut flowers
can't numb heartache, but sweetens the sours.

drop kick me out to the farthest field
I'll roll back home when all has healed.
1.4k · Sep 2013
cry
g clair Sep 2013
cry
It's hard to think that we'd forget
but harder still is writing songs about it
We never felt so bad and yet
the therapist is bent on getting us to pout about it
for all eternity
left out of maternity
wearing funny clothes
feelin bad out my nose and

It's getting to the place
my figure's where I do declare
It's not that I'm blown out
but I'll agree It's getting there
Just my gut reaction
to the world, a huge distraction
every day is passing by
while all I do is wonder why

No one else could really care
about the heartache in my hair
how one word could scar a life
silent strife, a cross to bear
knowing it would come around
I forgave but it's still there

The only thing that mattered
the only thing we knew
was that our hearts were shattered
and still our bodies grew
and we were grown up,
the bag is filled to bursting
fed up
hungry and still thirsting

let down , turn around
see the mess we're in
carrying this bitterness
was something of a sin
what to do, just walk away
or kick it to the curb
sort through stinkin garbage
jagged memories to disturb

A typical reaction
to pain is to forget
to push it down and numb it out
something I regret
some days I can laugh about it
some days wanna to keel
God above, if you are Love
soften up this heart of steel

If it's true, that you renew me
and in you there is no lack
please wash the dirt away
and get this monkey off my back
sick of all the drama
tired of being shy
holding back, the pressure builds
The dam bursts and I cry...

and You say
Let me
Let me tell you what I think about you
Tell Me
Tell me what you think about Me
Loved you
Loved you from the start of all
creation
had you set apart
for our relation
wanted you to need me
but Im not the needy type
trying to be heard above the
noise and all the hype
now you're finally listening
Just know that you are mine.
This is what you're made for and it is not a pick-up line
I've got your back, you're covered now, forgiven and set free
Nothing separates you from my Love,
and this was meant to be...

oh, and these tears are good for you
1.4k · Sep 2013
Yonder Road
g clair Sep 2013
I stood before the town folk, who were all revved up, in gear,
" I'm laying claim to 'Yonder Road', which leads to my lot there".
And as I spoke, I found my voice~ "And I, G Clair, it is my choice
to take it back" and dared the few, who looked me in the eye, and knew
they'd met their match but here's the catch,
I took it straight, right down the hatch...
The road's not mine to take.

"We must decline. It's on the line, the Powell Township County Line"
~So half of it is theirs to sell? And so I'm thinking "What the hell?"
I never planned to buy the land, which leads up to my pile of sand,
and half a road? That's just a load of ****-a-mamey crap and toad!

Not one spoke on my behalf, that half-a-road was just a laugh,
but secretly I knew their game, to share the road, and to their shame,
I'd have to buy the township out, if private is, what it's about.
And so I kept my peace of mind. "I'll pay for Yonder, rob me blind!"
"And all in favor, just say 'Aye'" The room went silent. Then a cry~
from down behind the furthest row, an "Aye" and then the rest in tow
and everyone you would have thought, would die before the road was bought
and on that day, the vote was wrought, and ALL for one road to my lot.
the road was mine to take!

And as I drove on down my road, I wondered, if it ever snowed,
if they'd still plow a private road, or leave it to the one who owed
the price of owning graveled lane, which cut in two, by grassy mane
and wondered if I'd have to mow the place which pulled like undertow~
which drew the settlers through the plain, where nothing grows in fitful rain
yet wagons, traveling there in vain, would lose a wheel, and what a pain
and one last thought to keep me sane:

Those drivers who had lots to gain
whose hearts were heavy, just the same
from weary rolling over rocks
in untilled pastures, void of flocks
who held the reigns in calloused hands
and prayed while sweat dripped from their glands
to make it to their promised lands,
would LOVE... a road... like mine.
1.4k · Nov 2013
Discarded Socks
g clair Nov 2013
Not to be the only one who feels
that it's important
to keep your shirt on
to keep your patience
of this I'm certain
with understanding
in quiet waters
are sunken
treasures
found.

Catching wind of something that you said
I'm quite relieved that
you are the type who
can see the end from
a rough beginning
and in forgiving
you make it clear
that there's no
fear in
love.

Reaching out for something that is good
and latching onto
discarded socks you
are thinking clearly, "Hey!"
(they don't deserve you)
but still you serve so
it will continue
you'll never
alone
be.

Letting go of what is left behind
I might be freed from
my vain devotions
and silly notions
the useless worries
about the future
and of all
temporal
things.
1.4k · Oct 2013
comes around
g clair Oct 2013
twitters and tweets
pictures are sweets
keeping you hooked
on the tabloid elites

just out of bed, hair on his head
matted and messy, way better than said
your public is waiting and verging on vexed
"stay tuned for more selfies",  you casually text.

stand by the mirror and pose for your followers
leading them into the worship of men
drawn to the sight of your bare naked belly
this bowl full of jelly is quaking, and then
this one, her ***, just after the baby
she's worked out like crazy, perhaps she just clazy
spray-tanned and bare butted
tattooed and nare studded
back in the crack but her tact has been share gutted
no worries, it all comes around

in some hotel bathroom you click at your Iphone
like all of the rest of us, yet so alone
trying to snap one both **** and manly
the wife beater t-shirt, the boxers and phone
we can't really blame you, your business, your life quest
but fashion is funny right down to the jewels
both earlobes sport earrings, just like mommy dearest
whatever your pleasure, some little girl drools
and she scantly clad there, for all of her viewers
could not give a **** about "ahhers" or "ew'ers"
but don't stop, you're on top and making your money
and laughing right back, since we're also quite funny

we once wore our hair all pulled up or with mullet
thought no one was laughing, we knew we were cool
and now all the stuff which we wore gone forever
or passed off as costume, just vintage, old school
where somebody bought it from some smelly thrift shop
and wore it again with a sense of true style
the polaroid pictures we took at the bus stop
that camera is back and will be for a while

Stand at the mirror and smile for your camera
not really getting that folks can be odd
some are perverted, while others disturbed
and still others are cranky and smelling like cod.

Someday you'll grow up, a mommy or daddy or maybe
a granny once shaking her *****
or maybe a pop-pop
and scoff a their moptop
and laugh with your grandkids
it  all comes around.
g clair Dec 2013
what can I say that has not yet been said
and where can I go that my heart hasn't led
when faced with the truth, let it go to my head
it hurts, but at least it's an answer
and where is the one that I've wanted to date
yesterday's leftovers still on my plate
coming to grips with the fact that he's late
and he's probably out with that dancer

Oh he may come and he might go
and I can't follow, I'm too slow
but I can sing a song I know, it's called my soul needs patching
you can sing along with me, the humming bird and buzzing bee
for all we know you're just like me, two souls whose hearts needs patching.

Tell me, when will I have what that other girl's got
love for a lifetime, guess this is my lot
I've scared off a few with the end to this plot
how those mystery dates made me shiver
and who is this person that I have become
sometimes just lazy, and snapping my gum,
I've tried to play smarter, perhaps I'm just dumb
but I'm all that I've got to deliver

Oh they may come and they may go
but I can't follow, I'm too slow
still I can sing a song I know,  it's called my soul needs patching
and you can sing along with me, the humming bird and buzzing bee
for all we know you're just like me, two souls whose hearts needs patching.

how can I slow what is driving me on
roll down the window, I'm more like a song
Set on the breeze that the wind blows along
with the fragrance of long summer days
So why all the longing when now is enough
precious and sweet are your words off the cuff
i'm happy to have you to read all this stuff
while the worlds smallest violin plays

Oh they may come and they may go
and I can't follow, I'm too slow
but I can sing a song I know it's called my soul needs patching
and you can sing along with me, the humming bird and buzzing bee
for all we know you're just like me, two souls whose hearts needs patching
g clair Jul 2014
red vinyl cushions are worn into shapes of the enormous bottoms
of those who've compressed them for years, hours at a time,
leaving lasting impressions, both artful and personal and
over time, increasing the distance from seating to table.

until it is time to disengage
and the red vinyl cushion
being fixed to the back of
two thighs now bonded
by sweat to consumer,
the seat  striking back...                
which                        
tore                          
not.                          
yet                          
lef­t                               .
it's painful impression ,
a concave impression of somebody's bottom..

Ouch!
1.4k · Sep 2013
The Office Christmas Meal
g clair Sep 2013
When you feel taken for granted
thinkin' they just don't care
wanting to move away again,
but again, you don't know where

burned-out, tired of trying
to be all the bossman wants
to be everything to everyone,
reading in between the fonts

We who sit beside you
in the office and the stall
who sing along, the same old song,
while you stand and take the fall

in a cubicle, with mistletoe,
this lonesome caroler hums
it's all benign,
please don't resign
before the yule tide comes

Want to see you here on Christmas
don't leave us all alone
want to hear you 'woe ** **' again
so don't slam down the phone

don't make that snap decision
when the pressure starts to build
just let the steam out somewhere else
and let your heart be filled...
with joy

At the meeting, you suggested
wrap the garland and a bow
and all the trimmings, here and there
around whose neck, we know

the one about the lighting
the star atop her head
and now the head of operations,
wants to move you to the shed.

They just don't understand you,
your work is so complex
you didn't sign his Christmas card
but the boss still signs your checks

so don't be rash, just try to hash it out
and make a deal,
and let bygones be gone
before the office Christmas meal.

Want to see you here on Christmas
please don't leave us all alone
want to hear you 'woe ** **' again
so don't slam down the phone

and don't make that snap decision
when the pressure starts to build
just let the steam out somewhere else
and let your heart be filled...
with joy
1.4k · Oct 2013
Uncle Rumpkin
g clair Oct 2013
Well they call me Uncle Rumpkin
my body's just a pumpkin
my hat, the pointed core
with a smile, I deliver
warm you up when you shiver
leave me lighted on the floor

Hey  I'm not a nasty fellow
in fact I'm rather mellow
an ordinary guy
on the porch, a Jack-0-lantern
with a torch, but the man turns
and I'm churned into a pie!

and I
would rather die
a broken shell smashed in the street
to be a trick, over a treat
for all your kids
who'd rather eat

well my face is close to human
my teeth can almost chew men
though I'm not that kinda dude
in the end when our eyes meet
you will see who's the pie's meat
when they're servin' up the food!
1.4k · Oct 2013
Our beloved trees.
g clair Oct 2013
"We will be replacing the curb and parts of the sidewalk. The trees will need to be cut down along with the one in the middle, We have marked them with pink ties."

Wha????

Two Towering Old Maple Trees
Our trees.
each bordering the sidewalk
but also near the curb
in front of our house
each holding memories
which go back beyond my ability to remember,
and yet each a solid part of my growing up in this house...
When I first met my husband and he would park his 68 Camaro under one of them. I was still climbing trees at 16. My sister carved her name and her bf name in the same tree. They were always there. ALWAYS. Like something you just KNOW is going to be there. Strong. Withstanding any weather for 52 years. Like our dad. Steadfast present trees. Part of our existence. Planted by the township when my parents moved here in '61 just before my birth. Part of me. Us. Our family. Our lives.

Shock. Utter disbelief. Anger. Bargaining. Acceptance? Not yet.

Our beloved Maple trees. Our beloved littler tree, now growing strong. Shade and privacy. Beauty. Sweetness. Life. Seasons. Cycles. Strength. Presence.
Our beloved trees. Two are steady and strong at 52 years are now towering over our house,
beautifying our street along with many others.
A younger tree, a sycamore? ( has those little helicopter seedlings that spin when they come down) ,  is center stage, next to our mailbox, but towers just the same
next to our mailbox. Leaves are still green.

" Will you also need to remove that one?"

"Yes.: They all have to come down."

" But...but...."

"Has to be done. The roots ruin the sidewalk. We will be replacing the sidewalk as well."

"And will you be replacing the trees?"

"No but you can plant new ones on your property."

"Okay..........thanks."

Shock. Tears.

I vow to the smaller one that I will find a way to pull it up...transplant it just a few safe feet away."

I am broken. I just lost my father who LOVED our property. Loved this street with it's trees.

I am in tears as I type this. I can never tell my mother, who moved away a month ago. She is equally in love with our trees and was always frustrated when the township would come along and cut the branches so they could not touch each other across the road. WE LOVE our canopy of maples and now the  ORIGINAL development with the OLD trees, the apple of my father's eye...my mother's eyes will become like a desert.  It was one of the only things Mom and Dad had in common, a love of our trees. The shade trees. What else is there?

Oh..... I will take photos. I will take movies. I will save branches. I will fall apart. I will go out tomorrow and buy two Bradford Pears and place them in exactly the same spot except on our side...to distract me from the carnage. I don't know HOW I am going to deal with the trees coming down. It's like taking part of my house down. The sadness comes in waves. It brings back the loss of my dad. It is dad's birthday today. Would have been 85.

I am so glad my father and my mother did not have to see this. THANK YOU GOD for that much. And for the Pear Trees which will flower in the spring and grow tall. Thank you. I am not okay but I will be. We will be. We will plant again. "Restore the Shore Club".  

My mom always called our neighborhood 'Shore Club' as that was it's proper name when it was established, but it came to be known by it's current name, Hamtown, later.
1.3k · Aug 2013
Reaper In The Whirlwind
g clair Aug 2013
A strange and eerie silence just before the midnight train
in the distance rolling thunder, through the darkness,
here's the rain
now wind is whipping sideways, tearing limbs from massive trees,
it's a wonder, jolt of thunder, every man's not his knees!

In a frenzied call to sleepers, get your loved ones up, she screams
it's the grimmest of all reapers come to rob you of your dreams
and it's grinding up the ground ten miles south, a mile wide
and it's headed your direction, so you'd better run and hide!

So panic takes the front seat while we quickly dive for cover
and we pray for God's deliverance, 'cause no one wants to hover
and we wait upon hell's plunder,as it devastates the land
and leaves it's monster's calling card, demise of all things grand.

lighter than a feather, yet never made for flight
carried on this wrecking train through blackness of the night
butcher knives! and power tools! an airborne metal shed!
A rabbit cage! an auto harp and someone's unmade bed!

the stuff which neighbors value, all their papers, jewels and cash
have been caught up in the whirlwind, torn to shreds and churned to trash
it's then I hear the grinding of the wheels upon the track
and brace myself with others in the bowels of my shack

a locomotive bearing down, we hold on tight and pray
the shrill wind screams, you can't believe it's happening this way!
and all we care about right then is staying on the ground
and keeping those we love alive, intact and safe and sound.

The way it goes, no one quite knows the way it's gonna be
we trust that God is here to lead us through the deep Red Sea
though man's no match against it, we'll find shelter in the storms
and pray escape the reaper in the whirlwind as it forms
1.3k · Nov 2014
Porch Swing Rhythm
g clair Nov 2014
Minding our own
making it rhyme,
it's all coming out
and there's dust in the drought
but the rain comes in time.

Nothing held back
I've got nothing to say,
let it roll off my shoulders
puts less your mind
and it's better that way.

All I wanted
      porch
             swing
                 rhythm~
                           back
              and
     forth
            with you, babe
                         All I needed
                          porch
                 swing
        rhythm
back
       and
                  forth
                with you.

And isn't this nice?
you like hot tea on ice
thank you, yes, I can follow directions
so please don't think twice.
And isn't this great?
we can stay out real late
watching millions of sparkling stars
while you're lickin' that plate?

I said nothing at all
it's that horse in the stall
my foot fell asleep but I'm not gonna weep
I can drag it or crawl.

Now the wind's in the trees
and your hand's on my knees
and the warmth of your breath on my neck
puts my tired mind at ease.

All I wanted
      porch...
                    swing...
            rh­­ythm..
    back...
              and...
        forth...
       ­ ­with you babe
                         All I needed
                          porch
                 swing
        rhythm
back
       and
                  forth
                with you.

Minding our own
making it rhyme,
it's all coming out
and there's dust in the drought
but you rain comes in time...

Distracted, it's true
idle chatter won't do
Better nothing to say
put the music on play
and be quiet
with you.

All I wanted
      porch...
                    swing...
            rh­­ythm..
    back...
              and...
        forth...
       ­ ­with you babe
                         All I needed
                          porch
                 swing
        rhythm
back
       and
                  forth
                with you.
1.3k · Oct 2013
My Impressionist
g clair Oct 2013
When he speaks, I hear the sound,
a president who's been around
speaking of the wife with cankle
not that she could care to rankle

Yo, BT, he fights for freedom
Rocky would be pleased to meet him
late at night when lights are lunar
on the road back home, a crooner

fools rush in, no longer Bing
the king of rock, old Pop can sing
a whispered line from any song
but suddenly I'm in the wrong

and one tough stooge I hear he bought a
tommy gun, and "why I oughta"
tell you something you don't know
it's Ahnold Schwanal ** dee doe

and then another voice will join
it's Raymond with his tenderloin
this sailor's gal has quite a name
he cooks his spinach in the same

a wealthy man on distant isle
who's wife is Lovey, makes me smile
Every single voice he's got
is good but when he's best it's not

the person he'll impersonate
but his own voice...it's getting late
but wait, there's more, but I am spent
on telling of the way it went

or so it goes and what'll come
the truth is, well, I love the ***
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