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I drank a glass of Texas tea
And turned into the ghost of a memory
I learned to be so quiet
I watched all my friends forget
I learned how to walk with the silence of the dead
I learned how to keep my thoughts inside my head
I learned to keep my mind open and my mouth shut
But I had no one there to open me back up
I never brush my hair
I forget to fall asleep
Is this what is meands to be me?

Had my first taste of Texas tea
And then their eyes went straight through me
Fill my cup all the way up
And watch my teeth rot
journal entry
Glenn Currier Jun 2022
Perched on the plank seat
of the old wagon
the dusty man gently jiggles the reins
of his reliable old steeds,
they as resolved as he
to reach Archer City
to get booked up.

Larry was there with his white hair
whittling his latest creation,
an overweight manuscript
sure to cause a sensation
no matter its heft.

They sat together talking
til the fireflies flew,
shared stories of books
loves, and good bass hooks,
reaching down to fetch a fresh brew
when they got parched
which was frequent
as they spoke at length
of men like Woodrow and Gus,
how they cussed,
poked, and stretched yarn after yarn.

Larry’s gone to the barn
but the guy who pulled up
in that old wagon
still is reading
and yet yearns
to revisit Texas lakes
to fish bass,
visit the local café,
and eat a passel of pancakes
or a big, tasty chicken fried steak.
This is a light poem begun by letting my imagination roam until I got this image of the wagon pulled by two old horses. I started writing and it just became what it is. Dedicated to my best buddy, Joe, who loves books even more than fishing. He was my pahdnah on Texas lakes way back when. One of his favorite authors is legendary Texas novelist, Larry McMurtry who also owned a bookstore in his hometown of Archer City, Texas.
ShFR May 2022
Schools’, free-ish U.S.
budget cuts GALORE, burnout
Teachers:  in terror   |  are trying
© 2022 by ShFR All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of ShFR
Betty May 2022
Hey
Hey gun lobbyists
Another load of children
Just surrendered
Francie Lynch Sep 2021
A new third world ******* emerged.
South of the U.S.
North of Mexico.
On the Gulf Coast.
Flag: Cantor, Black; Field, Black
Bird: Raptor
Flower: Fly Trap
Motto: Your Body Is the Body Politic.
Tyler Matthew Jan 2021
Dallas, November 1963
Fifty-seven years since they shot Kennedy
Everyone saw then live on T.V.
what happens when you challenge
secret society

Some say the mob or the CIA
Either black or white, but the truth is gray
and long since buried 'neath Texas clay
right next to good ol' LBJ

I ask not what my country can do for me
Blood on her hands, Lady Liberty
Let sleeping dogs lie, leave history be
The truth died in Dallas, 1963
James Orchid Aug 2020
I want to be held from the cold
As the warm water hits my body
Emulating embers slowly fading in the night
I can't help but notice
Goosebumps on untouched skin
I want to be held from the cold
Deja vu overwhelms my mind
Ive felt this feeling before
its almost childlike
innocence
I want to be held from the cold
Follow James Orchid
Instagram: madebyfractals
Spotify/Soundcloud/ Apple Music/Youtube: James Orchid
James Orchid Aug 2020
Particles of sand swept from beneath my feet
As the wind blows into the nonexistent future
Uncovering remnants of a past set in stone
Relieves my dry mouth with a taste so bittersweet
But in the end my solace is only a mirage
A fleeting feeling carried away by the dry air
impatience prolongs erosion
To leave my mountain of guilt for an indefinite stay
Follow James Orchid:
Instagram: @madebyfractals
Spotify/Apple Music/Soundcloud: James Orchid
Texas: The Grand Facade

“All my instincts, they return, and  the grand facade, so soon will burn”. Songwriter: Peter Gabriel, In Your Eyes

§§§§§

and so nature does it best to humanize the arrogance,
“can’t happen here, can’t happen to me,
I’m too young, a brave Alamo Texan,”

forgot Gabriel’s admonition, the grand facade, is exactly that,
a coverup, and skin is not deep enough, even your tough hide,
cannot keep out what you
cannot see, is stronger than you,

did you weigh the scales,
do a cost/benefit analysis,
write down the pros & cons?

think of coronavirus like love and ***,
——————
good love is a treasured blessing, a live long song,
wine to be pleasured sipped, you get drunk on beer, and
hookup ***, give yourself ******, aids, and/or the clap,
a bad decision, a haunting, a hangover that is marked on you face,
that you’ll testify to
every day for the rest of your sad, sad, existence,
in the bathroom mirror
a facade always gets revealed,
too bad you chose the
wrong thing to believe in...

you unmasked yourself!
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