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Tate Morgan May 2014
Farley was twisting a new tale
his feet on the *** belly stove
There in our barn, he'd spin a yarn
piling on like a treasure trove
"You know I don't think I told you
how I won the second World War"
"Ole Ike, needed help with the *****
and he looked to me and the corps"


"Again my country called on me
Ike wanted us to break the line"
"Well I told Dwight, schedule a flight
just drop me this side of the Rhine"
"So my men and I took the field
we lay waste such a German swath"
"Led all the men, yep there and then
survived only on bread and broth"


"Well we sought no recognition
we let Ike spin his fairy tale"
"We were fine, drinking ******’s wine
just happy to blaze the trail"
Later that night Farley took watch
he had come by to check the feed
Out from the night, came a bright light
Farley happily fed their need


He claimed that he had been kidnapped
aliens from space sought him out
They had been sold, on stories told
and assumed him a man with clout
Of course he didn't go freely
he took out a dozen or two
Scared them so bad, they were all glad
to head off into the wild blue


Farley claimed many a patent
he invented all the great things
Held universities, degrees
knew all the heads of state and kings
He’d served in World War One and Two
circumnavigated the globe
Hung out on the Nile, for awhile
invented Nasa's first space probe


"You know boys" he would always say
"there are a couple things I'm not"
"Attention grabbing, back stabbing"
"though I've won every fight I've fought"
When the iced wind blew through the trees
and the cold air kept us all down
We warmed each face, at Farley’s place
where he entertained half the town


Tate
Ole Farley was a regular fixture around the track. He had been everywhere ,done everything, or so he claimed. Teller of tall tales and whimsical dreams. He was the epitome of our childish inner selves, and I adored him. He was to this little boy a fascinating figure from history. Take a bow Farley. You were one of a kind and the worlds greatest storyteller.
Tate Morgan May 2014
There was an old man, I once knew
Peaches was the name he used
He was the drunk, set on our trunk
his body old and abused
Sharing his beer with an old horse
who caroused in the end stall
Each day by three, they'd walk by me
and stumble but never fall

His liver was a lace doily
alcohol pickled him thin
He'd been turned down, all over town
no one ever took him in
He drank his beer with ole Nellie
she could tip a bottle too
Swig and sway,  like Don Quixote
as they staggered, swirling, brew

We were headed for the races
this blustery afternoon
Each planned the trip, we had to ship
I knew we'd be leaving soon
From where we trained at the fairground
we carted them to the track
Where all would race, and take what place
each earned in front or in back

Peaches rode in back of the truck
so he could drink the whole way
My uncle said, he'd soon be dead
drinking had seen his decay
We sat apart from others there
he and I were best of pals
He'd tell me tales, of life’s travails
while I ogled all the gals

That day he shared a sordid tale
of pain he caused his own son
He had shouldered blame, bore the shame
for this thing that he had done
Back when he was just a young man
a pillar of support
He took his boy, his life’s great joy
to play their favorite sport

They went to a picnic that day
he had drank one too many
On the way, to watch his son play
of fears he hadn't any
His boy was riding in the back
not thinking they skipped the seat belt
He'd rolled his car, the door ajar
surprise was all he had felt

His boy was tossed out in a field
sweet clover of timothy
The child's light hair, seen lying there
remembered so vividly
"I was a Veterinarian"
said Peaches to my surprise
"I went insane, called out in vain
but God never heard my cries"

"So now I ride where I belong
In back of my self-made bar
Hoping he, will come to take me
by tossing me from the car"
Just then a tear fell from his cheek
the pain enveloped me too
Here cried a man, much deeper than
any of us ever knew

Tate
Who can truly say that only they know the heart of another soul? The sad truth of this is that it is a true telling of an actual event.The people I met through the years engrained their stories in my mind. Where I wrote them down and stored them. All I met there were at odds with life. So I suppose judge not lest you be judged. With Peaches I realized his fascination with me was partly my youth and part my resemblance to the treasure he had lost. May he find peace in his afterlife so denied him in life.
Rae May 2014
When all has come undone
That is when you've truly won
The ones who are winning are actually in last
What's done is done
Its in the past
Now your true story has begun
Its time for a recast
Don't be a fool and do a re-run
Move on fast
& learn what's fun!
Thought id try something a bit different this time.
The start text is about having nothing left to lose because only when we have nothing left to lose are we truly free.
Any feedback is muchly appreciated.
Rick Smerglia May 2014
Taste the dust at my feet,
The kicking, pumping action,
Wielding beneath my flight driven feet.
Ahead I am, and ahead I shall remain,
Still back there, you will forever be.
Nothing can hold me back,
My conviction miles down the path,
So far ahead of you,
There is nothing you can do.
Talk and hate, and try to relate,
Even try to duplicate,
But you could never beat me,
I am the sun, the light, the sky,
And you are but the shadow,
That lies defeated at my feet.
A Apr 2014
She bothers me,
I don't know why.
But I know i'm the reason,
For the tears she will cry.
But that's not it.
Its the possibility,
That I could of been her,
So easily.

- And....

I don't know why
he feels this way.
Im sorry for you,
What else can I say!
Im sorry his love,
Is invested in me?
Im sorry that this time,
Its working out for me?
So i'll love him with pride,
But also with shame.
With all the brokenhearted ,
Im the one they blame.
So when your with him,
I won't be present
Not because you are "winning",
Because i feel your resentment.
So look at the picture,
See it my way.
He likes me still,
And you see him everyday.
So don't be angry,
Step back in line.
It will work out for you,
But this is my time.
R Saba Apr 2014
wondering how you win at love
do you have to wait
until it's over?
what's the victory then
in losing it?

somebody needs to think
of some new metaphors, because
all these tired old scratched-up symbols
lead to dead ends

forget about falling, stop calling it
an end, stop calling it a means
just stop calling it anything
but love

let it describe itself, let it climb
up its own legs, let it be
what you will it, what you feel it to be

let it be what you feel
can't the victory just be
the feeling of holding on
and staying?
losing, falling, calling it anything but
plain old groundbreaking
love
is what it really is
because seriously, enough with the melodrama
Kaye B Anderson Apr 2014
Where am I?
What is this?
Warm, Wet,
I'm swimming.

Alone, Alone for so long.
Not knowing right from wrong.
A thought - *What is this I'm thinking?


Bumps and lumps and all kinds of triumphs.
A race for survival - Depending on all but me.
Made from love or misery?

Who am I?
I can hear voices,
Especially one - Constantly there.
She sounds so sweet.
Who is she?

What will my life be like?
Endless possibilities - No choices.
A game of chances.
What will become of me?

A Newborns destiny - **A lottery.
Creation. Life in the womb. No choices to how we are created or where we will end up. Healthy, or not? Born into fame, wealth, a good family? No choices - its up to chance, like the lottery.
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