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MicMag Oct 7
I'm a Texas boy
Born and raised
In the greatest and the proudest
Of the United States
Grew up in the shadows
Of them loblolly pines
This oil boom town
Sweet home o' mine

But I left it behind
To see the world
Traveled the globe
Just me and my girl
Meeting new people
Trying new things
Embracing and facing
Whatever life brings

But no matter where I've been
'cross God's green earth
My blood's kept me rooted
To my place of birth
And if you ain't from 'round here
Maybe you don't understand
You can take the man outta Texas
Can't take Texas outta the man
Jim Davis Aug 20
I’ve got my acreage
I’ve got my kids
I’ve got my wife
I’ve got my life
**** well
Best leave me alone

©  2019 Jim Davis

You know in Texas
you never ask a man
the size of his spread!  
Downright rude, I guess!
Mary Zollars Aug 6
An hour away, a petal falls
A petal, a petal, a petal
They fly to Utah, they fly to Maine
They fly to Brazil, they fly to Spain
A petal falls, a petal falls.
Watch them drift, watch them land
They are passed from hand to hand
Across our minds, across our home
We watched it grow, we let them go
A petal, a petal, a petal
I live very close to Dayton, it’s always just been the place where the air force museum is and where my friend does synchronized swimming, and it means so much more than that now. The moment I heard the news I looked for a victims list, and asked my parents if we could donate to the families. Every hour I see it, constantly reminded of how close it was. Mass shootings can happen anywhere, and the school year is about to start. Pray for Dayton, and don’t stop fighting.
Nat Lipstadt Jul 11
hapax legomenon “Texas Women”

(hapax legomenon: a term of which only one instance of use is ever recorded)
(Texas Women: a term of which only one instance of use is ever recorded)


for
ꏳJ LꂦVꏂ  & Cne’

once again, they sweet sweep me off my feet,
carry me to the Court of Finger Wagging,
to be accused of hating and/or loving Texas Women
simultaneously, diffidently, consequentially, unclearly differentially

this is no flower picking exercise, shaking of the head,
“he loves me, he loves me not,” rinse and repeat,
a northern trick to confuse the plano truth,
warns the Judicial Triumvirate

your Honors, I swears,
never wrote those conjunctive words,
Texas, Women,
never ever, until just now,
a genuine hapax legomenon

akin to taking god’s name in vain,
if one dare ever utter these words, and
blows the opportunity,
well, shotgun, if you know what I mean,
one gets only
one chance

so cut me quick to the chase’s conclusion
let’s go to my defense single & singularly:
true, of women I have written, and
“too much,”
is a mere theortical constriction

I love to love women,
and a 57 variety pak is a-ok by me

an inordinate number of poems may have referenced
females hailing from a certain great state,
but never together, side by side, have I ever employed
that phrase, for my imaginations
are more than sufficient

have loved women from many places, too many faces,
some beyond measure, now a forever,
a hoarded memoir unpublishable treasure,
some, it’s true, possessed jeans and a cowboy hat,
and dangerous boots, which one admired from a
goodly distance

they brook no con, tilting their heads quizzically,
there is no maybe with women from this place,
maybe you love us, maybe not, but either way,
there ain’t no maybe in our emotional lexicology!

ok.

the only woman I ever hated is dead and buried,
and yes, I shot her dead for being ornery cactus mean,
so by this roundabout roundup summation,
you may put your head on pillow tonight,
smiling confident thinking that your hapax legomenon,
is deep in the heart of a grown boy hailing from nyc,
still a crazy straight shooter
city of flips Jun 25
Letter to Cinderella (and her Texas Fairytales)

~for EJ Love~


now lookee here, girl,
slow down pardner,
blanket love-spells need to be addressed,
especially if a return requested back to
the great state of big ole Texas

as I am loved in Texas, I’m well aware
how hard it is to find love in wide open spaces,
more trucks and cows than people,
which is NYC in reverse,
both hard places in different ways
to make angelic fairies appear,
released intact from busted soap bubbles

so here’s my idée fixe,
to the reading, less,
to the writing, more,
command thyself to march towards
the seventeenths poem, and many more
to arrive at the promised
hallelujah

take the formless visions, potions,
drifting in you, figure them into words,
shaped with passion and cunning, twitching in
a creme of teasing, a dollop of wanting,
a whimsy, sense of humor, stir with another’s pinky finger,
bigger than the ineffable lone star of lonely,
an eye tear for flavor, a salty secreted ingredient,
that needs, requires another’s hand to wipe away

and a flashing neon sign:
Texas Red Amber,  Chops, and
real good loving desired!

only good loving people,
steady on their feet,
need apply, poets favored,
but a certain kind of cowboy,
ok as well

what be my expertises in matters these,
why I am your chastened, mean no more,
sweet sister who see your spells flying by,
who writes to you with newly learned humility
~


~

write me a short poem that rhymes,
will make for it a tune wholly mine,
and sing it,
when my my memory needs your sparking,
my Texas heart requires your comforting

and your music is the only answering

~



~
David Hill Apr 28
In Texas,
Land of guns,
And oil fields,
And chain gangs,
They warm sea turtles
In plastic bins
When it gets cold,
And send them on their way
When the sun returns.
“death everywhere, not age or ancient, just an infiltrated lack of life”

a puzzling, troubling line in a personal message,
instantly isolated for further review,
needy indeedy for a second medical opinion,
for it’s a description of two,
an actual place and a state of being

a place where death seems more commonplace,
not from agedness or honor,
but from a madness drunk from a special cocktail of
heat, guns and pseudo-rock stars, with beer chasers

imbibed by those who imagine themselves INRL  
in a movie genre of specialized urban cowboys,
subset horror flick,
self-appointed angels

part of a world view
so pervasive that it infiltrates the mental water supply
and modifies the pure children early on

demeaning existence, with a sense, a sendup,
life is unreal, cheap, so taking it-is ok,
justice delivered, for we angels,
are subset,
angels of death

in a country where
seven out of ten believe in angels,
and one in four confident that
the sun revolves around the Earth

look to blame
polluted water
the ever-overheated atmosphere,
bringing typhoon and storm,

I do not know

how be sun and water,
the essences, the originations of all life
today come to the planet days still
clear and warm,
yet can not infiltrate our personal mystery,
respire, re-spark the notion of the spirit,


the simple sanctity of life peculiarly human
call me by my other name
mystified momma
Johnny walker Apr 14
From here to the place I'd only ever seen In films, for it Is Texas, I now want to go, for  I've have been there In my dreams when I'm deep In sleep at
night
From the UK by plane, I travel across the vast ocean that lies between UK and America to meet my one true friend In life for Texas she does live, but I've only ever been there In my
dreams
But one day I hope my dream will become a reality and I travel across the vast ocean from UK to America  by plane to Texas to meet Terry for she my one and only true
friend
But until that day my dreams becomes reality, I'll  have to live Texas within the boundaries of my dreams, and travel across the vast
ocean
from the UK to America by plane, and to meet Terry for she's my one and only true friend, untill the day my dreams turn to reality
and I finally meet my
friend
Texas I've only ever seen In films but there I want to go
to meet and thank my one and only true friend In life
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