Is the grass greener
On the other side of life
Or more of a dream

And do the people
On the other side of life
Dream about this side

He's a cowboy in Connecticut
All Southern drawl and wide tooth grin
No matter how he tries it ain't no lie
The boy just don't fit in

He wears his Stetson hat, Alligator boots
Jingle Jangle Spurs with stylish Chaps
He dresses the part this cowboy work of art
Draws attention wherever he's at

He loves his Karaoke
Always requests a yodel song
When he's up on the stage folks don't know what to say
As he asks them all to sing along

You may wonder why he's not in Texas
He prefers it brisk and cold
Since he was born and raised among the Northern crazed
But it's the cowboy life that stole his soul

He has no cowhand to help with roundups
Local Yocals wouldn't dare be seen with him
He rides and ropes on his bike cats and dogs at night
With no horse or cattle to his name

Cause he's a cowboy in Connecticut
All Southern drawl and wide tooth grin
Where no matter how he tries it ain't no lie
The boy just don't fit in

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My **, **, **, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes **** my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head

I'm Afraid when I start this poem
From the moment that I begin
I'm Afraid I will get to the point
Where I won't be able to end

But here goes...

I'm Afraid of the darkness
I'm Afraid of the light
I'm Afraid that all my wrongs
Will never work out right

I'm Afraid that I will
I'm Afraid that I might
I'm Afraid that one day
I'll be asked the question why

I'm Afraid to inhale
and exhale the air that I breath
I'm Afraid of what is real
and what is make believe

I'm Afraid the colors are bleeding
In the Red, White, and the Blue
I'm Afraid of the ever increasing lies
Hidden inside of the decreasing truth

I'm Afraid of my neighbor
I'm Afraid of the neighbors dog
I'm Afraid that there's more to this
Ever growing cough

I'm Afraid to answer
The shrill ring of my telephone
I'm Afraid that the end
When it arrives will be a brick wall

I'm Afraid of this life
I'm Afraid of it's death
I'm Afraid of the thoughts
That keep bouncing in my head

I'm Afraid of you
I'm Afraid of me
I'm Afraid of what I can
and what I can not see

I'm Afraid of being Afraid
Which makes me more Afraid
I'm Afraid that one day
I'll run out of things to say
Which makes me even more Afraid

Charles Bukowski ate my girlfriend
He started with her head
Fiddled with her like finger food
Putty in his hands

Charles Bukowski took my girlfriend
Slapped her hard upside the face
Now she likes it *****
So this poets been replaced

I'd like to say so long Charlie
As far as I'm concerned
You can hit the literary highway
Never to return

Charles Bukowski took my girlfriend
And showed her a good time
As I'm watching from the shallow end
Of my kiddie pool of simple rhyme

Charles Bukowski ate my girlfriend
Chewed her up then spit her out
Now that good for nothing Charlie
Is all she talks about

I'm so bored with winter
Waiting for the thaw
That I spread mayonnaise on the ceiling
And Parkay on the walls

Chicken salad on the chandelier
Tuna on the couch
A sprinkle of some bacon bits
Straight out of the pouch

Grape jelly on the door jams
Peanut butter in the locks
We'll have them eating out of our hands
Like a Canadian Mayor smoking rock
(but only when he's drunk)

Pickle relish in the picture frames
Nutella smeared into the floor
A half a pound of hard salami
Nailed onto the door

A call down to the bakery
Order up some pumpernickel
Slap it on the outside
With the house fixins in the middle

Here you have our special
What you taste you'll soon find out
Welcome to Mike & Savannah's
Famous Sandwich House

dark are the eyes
through which we see
hard is the heart
that inside beats
only the lonely
know of the deeds
cold are the hands
that outward reach

follow the progress
that gets in the way
swallow the innocence
in what we say
two-sided knife
baked in the cake
savor the flavor
of the escape

hold onto your breath
if there's any left
along with the secrets
that you have kept
tossing and turning
in unmade beds
knowing the deeds
cold are the hands

I'm having the hardest time
Trying to find something that rhymes
With Paul Simon's counterpart
Garfunkel so I'll just call him Art

Always standing to Paul's right
Feeling left out in his life of strife
Struggling in the crossing over
This bridge of his troubled waters

Although he can sing sweet as sin
There's nowhere for Art to put his hands

While Rhyming Simon strums his guitar
Empty are the tinder hands of Art
Pockets front and pockets back
Are his only plan of attack

If he had known it'd go down this way
An instrument he would have learned to play
But as far as history goes
Who wouldn't love to have his voice

Although he can sing sweet as sin
Art Garfunkel has nowhere to put his hands

How much longer must we stand here
As the waters continue to rise
We are a people, a Holy nation
Waiting on the coming tide

With the knowledge of what we hope for
Having confidence in this
That our God and mediator
Will judge all in His righteousness

While here we all must suffer
As this earth is not our home
Making clear we have another
As the Spirit testifies in moans

Awaiting the day the good Lord frees us
Letting him have his way and will
Relying on his word to daily free us
Till every Jot and Tittle is filled

How much longer must we stand here
As the waters continue to rise
We your people, your Holy nation
Waiting daily on the coming tide

I found this old guitar
In a run down thrift shop store
R.J. were the initials scratched into the back
Could this be the guitar of lore

The guitar that Robert Johnson held
When he signed on the dotted line
Here is the music you live for son
But from now on your soul is mine

The very same blues guitar he played
Like there was no tomorrow
Alas tomorrow for him came
Filled with pain and sorrow

I picked up that old guitar
Started out strumming a few simple cords
Laying around all of these years
It sounded sweeter than sin and more

I can't remember ever playing so well
As I watched nimble fingers fly
Don't know how long I'd been in the back
Losing all consciousness of time

When I found the old store keeper
Asked him how much he wanted for my find
He said it looks good on you son
It's all yours...
If you'll sign on this dotted line...

We cage our animals
The way we cage our men
Some may call it cruelty
The way we lock them in

We go and lock the man away
When he misbehaves
But with the animals we kindly say
We're just trying to save

Just who are we trying to save
All the wild animals from
Is it from themselves
Or is it all from us

And what about man
In the same way
Is it them or us
That we're trying to save

It's the classic case of
Monkey see with monkey do
And of who is watching who
Inside this man made zoo

I remember well the day
My daddy went to war
Place called Vietnam
Still don't know what for

Still don't know what for
Haunts me to this day
Never got a chance
To put flowers on his grave

Flowers on his grave
May not mean a lot
But he'd be there to listen
To the questions that I've got

Questions that I've got
Answers that I don't
Why'd he have to die
And leave me all alone

Leave me all alone
Here all by myself
In a world that doesn't care
About nobody else

About nobody else
That walks upon this land
Especially for my daddy
Who died in a place called Vietnam

Growing up I always had
Some very special friends
Where we shared in everything
Even our love for Heavy Death Metal Bands

But every time one of us
Pick up an instrument
Whether banging, blowing, or strumming
We never made a lick of sense

That is until we found the jewel
That we all could play
Which turned around our tender lives
And tenderized us all that day

Now we travel the country side
With our own road crew
In a Heavy Death Metal Band
Where we all play Kazoo's

The very first Kazoo's we purchased
Came from the Five & Dime
But were able to throw down for the better stuff
Once our careers all started to climb

Now when we step out into the lights
Taking center stage
It's worth the pain in our vibrating lips
To see adoration on a groupies face

And playing lead Kazoo
Isn't as easy as it looks
You've got to hold your lips just right
To come up with those major hooks

We used to open up for other Metal Bands
Like AC/DC and Metallica
Pretty soon though our style passed them by
Leaving those sissies in top 40 dust

Because next to us they played soft rock
And when your "Axe" is a killer Kazoo
The others stand around dumb founded
With no clue of what to do

Don't get me wrong this rock and roll road
Isn't always paved in gold
Day in and day out in a Kazoo Death Metal Band
Can take away your very soul...

when it comes to Facebook
i no longer like
finding social media
takes up to much of my time

and in today's society
how many peak in for a look
at what their friends are doing
making them feel they've kept in touch

or how we Snapchat our activities
and in seconds it is gone
i ask can you picture that
if not Instagram's not far off

and if your in a hurry
with the words you have to say
in no time you can tweet it out
then soon be on your way

all this newfangled socializing
is anti-social at its best
never to deeply diving
yet still wearing our masks

please don't get me wrong
social media does have its place
it's just sometimes in this book
we all wear a different face

and no amount of liking
can real time face to face be replaced

Let's you and I pretend that we are pirates
And we'll both sail away
I'll grab the treasure map
You raise the mast, step on the gas
We'll split all our take in what ever we make
Leaving the sun behind in our wake

Let's you and I pretend that we are pirates
And the highways Southbound lane will be our sea
We'll chart out a course for far distant shores
Pillaging this world in search of lost pearls
Setting our sails for free
Pirates Pretend, you and me

You start with Coke
Regular
A glass bottle
Is preferred
If you're reaching for Pepsi
Get a clue
That sweet drink
Just won't do
A bag of peanuts
The salted kind
Which ever brand
Suits you fine
Grab your Coke
Pop the lid
Take a good
Long sip from it
Pour the peanuts
From the bag
Into the Coke
Till there's none left
Tilt it back
Drink and chew
Cause that's just what
You're supposed to do
If you're wondering what
This delicacy is called
It's Coke & Peanuts
That's Southern ya'll

I do not strive
Nor wonder why
At what point in life
I'll be remembered by

Just in my quest
Of daily steps
I do my best
God does the rest

You can use a heavy blindfold
Tie it to a chair
Throw it in a waiting trunk
Take it far from here

Ask it out fishing with you
Miles away from shore
Grab it when its back is turned
Toss it overboard

Hope against hope
That it'll give up the ghost
But love for loves sake
Will always make its way back home

You can climb the highest mountain
Push it off a cliff
Peer over to the bottom
Watch it as it hits

Place it in a rocket
Shoot it to the moon
While it's up in orbit
Pack your stuff and move

Though you would think by now
That by now you'd know
Love will always find a way
To make its way back home

Take it to the wild side of town
Sell it to the gypsies
Whisper underneath your breath
Hope that you don't miss me

When the weather's cooler
Take it to the fair
While in the house of mirrors
Leave its reflection there

Even when it's stranded
Left to shiver in the cold
Love in all its wonder
Will make its way back home

i woke up this morning
to take a walk on the sun
while the moon was out dancing
in a village of one
had the strangest of feelings
it had all come undone
and me...i was just along for the ride

the fields were all waving
a bright shade of blue
as the women who worked them
wore starlight hairdo's
i blinked once, then twice
well...wouldn't you
as i reached in and scratched the itch of my mind

cows carrying moonflower purses
looking utterly strange
dogs barking out four
on the driving range
shouldn't the cows be a milking
and the dogs scratching mange
as i pulled on the cord that was just out of sight

the dam broke, flooding the valley
with pink lemonade
only the statute of achoo! (bless you)
was all that was saved
they tried to do more
but the train was delayed
there's never been a day like a day tonight

It really matters how you slather
Jelly on the bread
As it must be globed enough
To cover every inch

Of course grapes the jelly go to
No need to question why
Still for me the strawberry
Is always on stand by

And when it comes to peanut butter
The crunchy is a given
If you're in the mood to spread the smooth
I say to you,  don't even

The bread I'm not concerned with
It's just there for name sake and handles
Because without bread the above said
Would be a mess and not a sandwich

One thing that almost slipped past me
Can't believe I had forgotten
The jelly always goes on top
And peanut butter on the bottom

I might be a few years to late
As this has been decades in the making

But I'm going through with a commune
To give a few hippies something to do

So I wrote an ad, put it on a list
They say this guy Craig is the best

Now my yard is filled with hippies by the score
Or would the proper way be to say hippies galore

I hurried them all into the house
It wouldn't do for the neighbors to find this out

I set up booths in different rooms
I handed out name tags and colorful kazoo's

Don't let it be said I run a shabby commune
You gotta keep the hippies happy in all you do

That's why I have a calendar of special events
From karaoke kazoo to rug making with hemp

On Tuesday's we basket weave, Wednesday's we kite
But never in the day as hippies burn in the light
(Or is that Vampires...scratch that, that may not be right)

I even hired a Jerry Garcia look a like
To call out the numbers on Bingo night

All this hard work hasn't gone for not
Communes and Jefferson Airplane tunes last week called me up

They'd like to feature me in their magazine
A full page article on living the dream

Where I can help others to have their very on
Commune to invite a few hippies along

So go out if you can to a magazine stand
Read how it's done then buy you some land

We'll have hippie commune's from one end to the other
No color nor creed just sisters and brothers

You've heard of the children of the corn
This my friend is much scarier than that
Here to make sure you eat all your vegetables
Adults of the Asparagus

Set in a quaint New England town
Could be in any novel by Stephen King
Making sure both the young and the old
Eat their veggies raw, sauteed, or steamed

They'll make you sit by yourself at the table
With the dog behind the door when they lock it
Before you leave the table they'll frisk you
And have you empty out all of your pockets

You will shudder with butter on the side
Salting to taste if you must
Making sure you eat every last bite
Adults of the Asparagus

Okay that's it
I finally quit
I've had my years of fun

I've got exercise
Clear in my sights
Fat will soon be on the run

Had a problem in
Getting in the gym
The doors won't fit my **** double wide

So in disgrace
I plaster my face
On the window to watch the skinny's inside

In my depressed state
I went and ate
Another meal served up for four

One thing I like
About the places I dine
There's always room in and out the door

Then guilt overwhelms
Like a hellhound
As I was in the middle of my desert

It could have come sooner than this
And for that I am blessed
It could have come during my last course

Here I am back in my boat
Without a paddle to row
My only form of exercise

But before it's to late
I toss a little more dirt on my grave
With another order of double fries

With my meal out of the way
I go back to the start of the day
Which seems to be sunnier than ever

I decide to go for a jog
Before all my arteries clog
Maybe though I'll wait for better weather

........................................................­........

Here we are a new day
This is the earliest I've ever been late
You know what they say about catching the worm

I stop to eat my worm on the way
IHOP  double stack pancakes
Will that worm never learn

The only exercise these days
Is a fork in my face
If this were the Olympics I'd win a prize

I wonder if this is considered a sport
The reaching of maple syrup
And wouldn't squeezing the bottle also be exercise

I'll try tomorrow again
To reign myself in
One of these days it's bound to catch

I'll look to the future in life
Instead of behind
Then at least I won't have to look at my fat...

Driving along
What's that I smell
The daily delight
Of the latest roadkill

From raccoons to possums
In this flattened cuisine
As vultures take lunches
On this finest of dining

Call us the critter getters
Crossing over our paths
Taking them out
As they scurry this way and that

From Bambi to Thumper
And all their forest friends
It does make you wonder
Who you'll run into next

We'll even take out the curious
Who wander on
To that portion of blacktop
To see what's going on

From teetotaling turtles
To slithering snakes
There's not a creature out there
That we won't pancake

So check out the roadkill
If there's still twitch after the thump
Hurry in back
And toss it into the trunk

Because down in the South
There ain't no one can say
That any of us country folk
Let a thing go to waste

Below the Mason Dixon line
If it's fresh enough
We'll take it home ya'll
And have it for lunch

As long as it's fried
There ain't a thing
With cheese grits on the side
That we won't eat

The 50's they found Elvis
And boy oh boy could he swing
The best part about him though
Is the boy could also sing
Of course there were many
Who tried his bell to ring
But it was only Elvis
That Rock & Roll crowned King

The 60's were invaded
By a drove of English blokes
From the Beatles to the Kinks to in between
The Rolling of the Stones
But we opened up some Doors
With a few bands of our own
As we headed further down
The road of Rock & Roll

We then watched the disco ball
Spinning round and round
As so went the 70's
With their ups and downs
Suddenly grinding to a halt
Barely with a sound
As fast as it came in
The 70's done left town

Then came in the 80's
Without much fanfare
Out went the disco
In came the hair
Not much more to talk about
That's about it I swear
When it came to the 80's
Not too many really cared

The 90's didn't just drop in
It was more a lunge
They called it rightly Nirvana
The day of the grunge
If you were not up with the times
Then you were counted out to lunch
But with the Jam Aunt Pearl made
I could never get enough

Now we're in the new Millennium
With the singers and their songs
Where went the Rock
Did it Roll off on its own
Never did it say goodbye
Before it was all gone
But I bet the bottom line
It won't be gone for long
Long live Rock&Roll

I'm here to do some splaining
Bout the latest sensation
To grab hold the giblets
And rock the nation

It's been round for years
In case you didn't know
The sweetest of treats
The sweet potato

You've heard them tell
You can't judge a book by its cover
The outside is ugly as hell
With innerds like no other

So open one up
Scoop out its guts
You can bake em, fry em, pie em
Even pancake em up

Seems there's nothing that
This sweetness can't do
So line them up boys
For some sweet tater stew

Really didn't mean
To go off on a rampant
Of the sweet potatoes
Overtake of the planet

But you must admit
It's the best of both worlds
It's sweet and it's potato
Who could ask for anything more

If all of this looks normal
And never once makes you blink
If you ride the tide to whatever side
Flows into group think

If you do all they tell you to
And then ask them for more
If you play their game and all receive the same
Trophy at the door

If you nod in Bobble Head fashion
With their version of the truth
Never stepping off to question
Then maybe you've been brainwashed too

If you scream out heebie-jeebies
When opposite shows it's hand
And instead of calmly asking
It's more of a demand

If you turn blue when you talk green
And all you see is red
If in your realm of tolerance
You wish the other side was dead

If your blindfold covers both heart and head
On what is the gospel truth
The only conclusion there is left
Is maybe you've been brainwashed too

It ain't the pork, it ain't the beans
It ain't the mustard on saltines
It ain't the redneck social scenes

I love about the south

It ain't the ice cold sweet southern tea
It ain't the way that we say please
It ain't the way we lemon squeeze

I love about the south

It ain't the perfect slice of pecan pie
It ain't the wink in the bullfrog's eyes
It ain't the fireflies that light the night

I love about the south

It ain't the way we say yes ma'am
When you visit Alabam
It ain't the attitude of yes we can

I love about the south

It ain't the way that we say ya'll
With the syrupy sweet southern draw
No it ain't none of that at all

I love about the south

It's the crisp clear starry nights
Through the shifting shadows of the loblolly pine
As I stand here with your hand in mine

I love about the south

Just the fact that you are here
And that I can hold you near
As I hear you call me dear

*I love about the south

My latest two poems are neck and neck
As they jockey back and forth for position
They're both getting the same reads and hate to concede
They hope the other will break a leg is what they're wishing

They both came to rhyme this fine morning
Up to the gate one after another
You'd think they'd be friends coming from the same hand
Instead of battling it out with each other

But this is where we are today
This the 2nd day of May
It's the Kentucky derby of Hello Poetry
So let's place those bets before the end of the race

Not sure if this would be consider taboo
To even mention the view
Did I just hear her say the word touche
When the doctor proceeded to do what she had to do

With stage crew and camara in hand
Filming what little dignity I have left
Are the tapes rolling, I may need consoling
When this crazy trip finds somewhere to land

Do I even need to mention the day before
Pills and laxatives by the score
To clean out my innards must be least 10 pounds thinner
Need I say anything anymore

Back to the uncomfortable crowd
You can hear a pin drop at the sound
For them it's routine, for me a dastardly deed
Could someone please send in the clowns

Adding a touch of savoir faire
Excuse me, is there enough room in there
If things get a bit tight make sure the pliers are sanitize
Anyone up for a game of truth or dare

Doesn't get anymore personal than this
Best friends now without even a kiss
Operation at 7 film at 11
To be viewed YouTube via Internet

abby normal is a very good friend of mine
she and i hang out most all of the time
friends like that can be so hard to find
abby normal, always on my mind

when me and my friend abby go out on dates
you know that abby always has me pay
and believe me with abby i do pay
as abby normal always gets her way

abby normal lives on the outskirts of town
abby dresses up and pretends she's someone else
you never know with abby just what that's all about
until the day it's to late that you find it out

I wonder if she thinks of me
Whenever I think of her
I hope and pray that it's not true
I wouldn't wish on anyone this curse

Why is it so hard to let go of
Childhood memories
Is what it is I'm living with
Not enough for me

I'll be taking this heartache
To my weary grave
If you see the girl I'm thinking of
Will you tell her I said hey

And find out if she thinks of me
The same way I think of her
And if she does it daily
Like me, I'm sorry that she's cursed

a grassy knoll
shots rang out
left a world in fear
with a world in doubt

we watched Camelot
suddenly pass away
on the harsh streets of Dallas
50 years ago today

as the 60's arrived
newly on the scene
hello nightmare
goodbye american dream

on that fateful day
it all fell apart
shot a hole in our soul
left a hole in our heart

when on that grassy knoll
shots rang out
which left a world in fear
to a world in doubt

We used to play Cowboys
We used to play Indians
We used to play Pirates
Sailing swift the Caribbean

Now we play worn out Doctors
Accountants counting others millions
Now we play overworked Business Men
Stuck behind cubicles locked inside buildings

We used to climb mountains
Explore backyard jungles
Always at the ready to take
The adventure set before us

Now we set the alarm
Every morning to wake us
Not ready for the adventure
Or where it will take us

We used to fly high like birds
Not knowing our limits
Along the way take what others would say
Knowing they really meant it

Now all we do is drive
Each other insane
Putting up with lie after lie
Day after day

We used to be kids
We used to have fun
Something we seem to have left behind
The day we grew up

I spent my early life
Looking out from behind
The chain link fence on the turkey farm

There they fed me right
Fattened up my thighs
After all, what could be the harm

If it was up to me
I would never leave
It's where I prefer to spend my years

But alas will come the day
When all good turkey's have to say
Arrivederci...I am outta here

          I was born to be a Butter Ball
          Unlike those sloppy pigs that live next door
          To be a tender turkey is my call
          And all you want to do is eat me
          Yes, you wanna eat me

They just took Turkey Jack
To the shed out back
Where we never heard from him again

Just like yesterday
With my friend Turkey Dave
Strange they haven't messed with Turkey Slim

Am I the next in line
Could this here be my time
My head placed on the chopping block

As I say my goodbyes
To all the gals and guys
I gobble to Mary Lou as an after thought

          I was born to be a Butter Ball
          So delicious they're coming back for more
          Tenderized to the very core
          All they want to do is eat me
          
          I was born to be a Butter Ball
          A slap in the face to the Honey Ham
          To be a tinder turkey is my call
          Heavy on the gravy with a side of yams

Now that you know my tale
I hope I told it well
Enjoy this day with your family and your friends

So remember then
Don't leave the stuffing in
And dinner will go the way that it was planned

          I was born to be a Butter Ball
          The highest honor of them all
          Into the open oven I must fall
          Cause all you want to do is eat me
          *Yes, all you wanna do is eat me

time has a scent
that's quite different
from bitter lemon zest
to cool peppermint

like that of sidewalk chalk
heavy rains keep washing off
time comes in many colors
beyond that on the box

sampling a taste
pouring out in waves
time is a surgeon
set to operate

is a makeshift shelf
where life's books are held
to one day be read
by somebody else

time is all of these
among many other things
but most of all
time is the cruelest of thieves

These allergies are out to **** me
I try to breath but all I do is wheeze

My head is beating like it's being squeezed in a vice
While a herd of horses run wild through my mind

I'm coughing pollen into the breeze
Huffing and puffing with eyes watering

It's no longer funny, my nose keeps on running
As the pills I'm popping end up doing nothing

These allergies are the ones to take all the blame
With a head that's pounding from the sinus pain

My friends no long want to hang out with me
When all I do these days is clear my throat with a sneeze

How many more months of summer are left
Just wake me up for meals I'm going back to bed

All I really need right now is some sort of relief
From the coughing, scratching, sneezing, wheezing of these allergies

When I'm with my baby
I know I'll always have a job
She keeps my life so busy
I'm never nodding off

Occupational hazard
Is what my baby breeds
I feel like Merle...always Haggard
If you know what I mean

Some days she is a walk in space
Guess that makes me an Astronaut
Other days a Florist
As I arrange her Forget Me Nots

I've even been a Farmer
When she leaves me standing out in left field
Also working in the Dairy
As she cries over spilt milk

This girls is definitely a workout
So add Body Builder to my resume
And some of the things I've found out
I'd put the NSA to shame

Don't forget Taxi Driver
As she runs me all over town
Also Professional Mover
With my heart continually moving South

I've become a top notch Surgeon
The times that my hearts removed
And a teacher of higher education
When each lesson learned is new

Yes, when I'm with my baby
I know I'll always have a job
As she keeps my life so busy
No way am I nodding off

It has been brought to my attention by Elvis fans,
not to mention a slew of phone calls from irate Elvis impersonators
that my last poem was very insensitive.

For that I would like to apologize.

I would also like to set your minds at ease and inform you
that in no way were any corpses harmed in the writing of...

"Are You Lonesome Tonight" (AKA Digging On Elvis)

Although Elvis didn't hold up so well
on the trip back to Graceland...

As luck would have it though Walmart
was having a special on large trash bags.
Two for one! And the environmentally friendly ones too!
We all know how hard it is to find those on sale!

Now where was I...
Oh Yea!
    
So we were able to get every last piece of Elvis
safely back to his final resting place.
Once again let me apologize for any harm I've caused
the hundreds, no let's make that thousands...millions
of Elvis fans and Elvis wannabes.

                                     Sincerely yours and a fan myself,
                                                                                  Mike

P.S. I'm also somewhat of an Elvis impersonator:

Pass me one of them there jelly doughnuts will ya...
Pretty good uh?
Maybe you have to be there...

Received my copy of Timothy's first book of poetry today (Reflections in Short Poetry) and am already thoroughly enjoying it! There's nothing like having pages to turn...
It's pictured in my cover photo and can be purchased from lulu.com.
Thank you to Timothy for this wonderful book!

She is the beginning
As well as the end
The best part of the middle
Then start over again

The sweet part of the taste
On the tip of your tongue
The wisdom of old
The giggle of young

She is the breeze
That blows in the Spring
The long distance call
That brings you close with the ring

The moment you hear
Someone say yes
She is the mystery
That hides in the guess

She is the hope
That you hold onto
The talk of the town
The brand in the new

The little crease
At the edge of the smile
She's the bees knees
The answer to why

She is all this and
She is all that
When it comes to it all
She's where it's all at

When life's not going right
Guess you could say it's going wrong
Do what it is I always do
Pick up the telephone
Dial my favorite number
They've never steered me wrong
Of course that number is
1-800-Not My Fault

In any situation
At any given time
#1 on my speed dial
Connects me directly to their line
I seem to call it often
Not giving it much thought
My fingers know just where to go
1-800-Not My Fault

Missed your anniversary?
Or the twins Bar Mitzvah?
To avoid all the yelling and crying
Do it out of love
Remember this time around
You won't be doing it for naught
So pick up the telephone
1-800-Not My Fault

Cooking in the kitchen
You set the house on fire
The one time you do laundry
You throw your wife's tight jeans in the dryer
Fired from your job a month ago
For a month you've been hiding that with lies
Just so it is you don't get caught...dial
1-800-Not My Fault

So my friend remember this number
If your ever in a jam
Just excuse yourself a moment
Dial as fast as your fingers can
Age it does not matter
Neither being a woman, child, or man
No need to be distraught
Come on now...you know the number
1-800-Not My Fault

this poem has no title
for it to lean on
so there is no telling
the direction it goes

no title to hinder
or hold it back
all of its meaning
is in all that it says

this poem has no title
to hold it in place
it can only rely
on the rhymes that it makes

whether they're good
or whether they're bad
this poem has no title
to hold its hand

this poem has no title
to weigh it down
which forces a read
to find what it's about

and what it's about
you may not find
until you have reached
the very last line

I have this brain
With which I sometimes think

A set of eyes
Stuck in sockets to see

Two healthy lungs
That know the key is to breath

To keep my heart pumping
In its perpetual beat

A mouth that too often
Doesn't think when it speaks

A stomach that growls
When it's time too feed

Not too picky
When it comes to its choice of eats

Other body parts involved
In the space between

Some working fine
Others struggling to reach

All miraculously entwined  
From my head to feet

These are just a few parts I've got
That make up part of me