#annual
Just this once,
I was standing, facing west,
and in that instance as I saw a lilac,
I smelled all the lilacs in the valley below,
by the grace of Zephyrus, I caught the scent
and I decided to remember to tell the difference,
later as I attempt'd to say yes, I have smelled lilacs,
I recall I was tempted then by remembered
honeysuckle, tempted to think a scent,
and describe it as something airy,
spiritually discerned, remembering a moment,
mentally merely life in an annual purple stage.
But I cannot smell those lilacs,
I remember smelling.
I must still be alive, what ** have we all been mad?
Who has never once been led to ponder, in truth,
not myth, nor mystery in fogs of warring prides,
proud men modeled on boys adventure tales,
brought back from the hunt, alive to tell,
it was as hard as grandma said it is, to tell
the truth as vide licet outside the cone of silence,
between boys and their face to face first ****
from a distance, it was a sparrow… I shot more,
but that first killed sparrow, I was sorrowy for.
All day at thought speed, no speaking,
listening to stirring pollinations processing
passing time in freshest Earth air, lilac scented
Half a time later I was considering urban
input delivered weekly influencing all I know,
about thinking quietly while reading opinions
for all the attention I had to spend on something.
Then, the instantness of now in print opinions,
strikes me as an experience many must feel soon,
as we codepend until we end up in the poor house,
-- better than the outhouse…
comes a holler from across the way… dementia
with peace is the same as godliness with contentment
I caught me not caring.
Not caring if I live or die, and
I found it nice, better than not so bad.
What good would I do if I could?
The old woodchuck tongue twister,
or I could whistle an old radio show tune
or paint grain by grain with gathered sand
me listening to birds I could claim to have
heard, a Western Titmouse, I can say, it may be,
then a trilling response, tickles my conscience,
theory of mind time reflex, every whenever at once.
Aha, as one particular ha, exhalatory equivalent vibe.
Viva ancient whistlesprachen, vibratory excitations, we
became the vast experiment in life lit with electricity, yes.
We were three whole urban generations deep into it,
before it reached Wickiup, on the Big Sandy, in the fifties.
Now, let's
time thicken the plot
slow to gravy consistency the vibrations tending toward,
sceptic consciousness resulting from being robbed too often,
all that I imagined too precious to replace. I lost, time and again.
Eventually, I dare say, it dawned on me, that I have seen many,
beautiful sunrises, but far fewer than sunsets, when I think
and breathe and have my being after any old diligent
Calvinist work ethic, come up short on the balance,
outlaws and inlaws on my heritage to citizenship,
who told us we could take the land, originally?
Hey, cowboy, did you ever play indian? Ask any,
I have asked a few, and I do not remember any,
but, I know indians who played cowboy and got good at it.
Maybe better than any could imagine, on a given day, a chance,
to leave any money there was involved in the catastrophe,
on the table, saying I'm all in, I'll play the next hand
dealt me… and let the winnings ride.
Not often confidence gets such a day.
Peace at any price was the bid,
if I win the *** I'll pay the cost.
If I don't I'll call today the price I paid,
Up right, not illusional delusions, eye to eye, my smile is my tell,
the truth is I won, and time is not what children can imagine, so
should any ask why we died, tell them anything you know is true,
but if you tell them we died for a lie you believe, I will haunt you.
… and that was all we heard of that.
Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 5:55 PM UTC
My friend went out hunting for deer
He brought his gun. Ammo, and beer
He shot, hit a tree
But. He didn't hit me
So, we've already booked for next year
Jan 4
Jan 4, 2026 at 2:21 PM UTC
Still here,
beating.
I stand over the girl from my past.
My shadow is a mass, but I am Liberty,
in her stance,
in her strength,
in the sunlight.
Twice struck,
second one has stuck
in deep,
enough to blur the world around me-
around him.
Never mind the darker hours
(they aren’t important);
what is crucial, is the breath in my lungs.
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 2:27 AM UTC
Just a short New Year's Wish
Raise a glass and toast the year
Think back now and debate
Another week and it's dusted and done
Goodbye to old two oh one eight
Regardless how it started
And what happened through the year
Celebrate that you're here at the end
And raise a nice cold glass of beer
The Mayans missed about the end of life
And now we've another year to go
A new adventure that will be twelve months long
What it brings, I'm sure that no one knows
So, raise a glass to the end of another long year
And get set to step out once again
I wish you could all have the best year of all
and then multiply all that by ten
Two Oh One Nine could be a year of wonderment
A year that all your dreams come true
It's not predetermined or up in the stars
What you get is all now up to you
So, raise a glass and celebrate that you're still here
And start the New Year off with a smile
A toast to the past and one to what's to come
And let's make it the best year by a mile
Happy Gnu Year to everyone on HP who contributes to all of the talent on this site.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:47 PM UTC
This is what I am now;
silver hoops and
wet wavy hair.
Naked.
Tan lines and stripy scars.
More bright thoughts than dark.
With a star, a chain and some string.
Broken wrist,
quelque fois je suis triste.
Big big family,
small small dreams.
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
Independent Grammy
Ameripolitan Billboard
CMA Triple Play
Indigenous K-Love Fan
Austin YouTube
Loudwire MTV Video
GMA Dove iHeartRadio
Canadian Country
Stellar BBC Music Magazine
Americana Blues
Tennessee Songwriters Association
Soribada Best K-Music
Texas Country
APRA Western Heritage
Texas Sounds
Academy of Country Music
Wine Country
Carolina Teen Choice
Pulitzer Prize
Latin American Unsigned
Alternative Press
International Western
People's Choice
American Tejano
ASCAP Country Soul Train
Soribada Best K-Music
Texas Country
American Songwriting
Branson Terry
Nashville Industry
International Bluegrass
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 6:27 PM UTC
Every year I get older,
always marked by the same date,
but this year I'm feeling colder,
lacking heat even with my hate.
Every year I get older,
I'll be dead in years by this rate,
and there's so much weight on each shoulder,
have I just shown up to life too late?
It's my party and I'll cry if I want to,
we've got no social games, so what else would I do?
It's my party and I'll die if I want to,
"It's all downhill from here" oh god, was that true.
You know it's just my mannerism,
to have an annual aneurysm.
You know I was never one for optimism,
so here's my annual aneurysm.
Every year I get older,
that's just humans fault and fate,
and we all get bitter and bolder,
well, maybe that's up for debate.
You know it's just my mannerism,
to have an annual aneurysm.
I was never good at criticism,
so here's my annual aneurysm.
It's my party and I'll cry if I want to,
tears change my eyes from green to blue.
It's my party and I'll die if I want to,
just 'cause I'm growing doesn't mean that I grew.
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
Deep in the woods where the wild things roam
Back in the dark there are things
That happen at night when you'r all safe at home
When young men compete to be kings.
It happens each year when the falls fairs are on
These gatherings out in the dark
Thanksgiving arrives and the boys all move on
From these things that they do for a lark
The gauntlet's thrown down by the challenging swarm
To the winner of last years crusade
His blood doesn't boil, but it sure does get warm
Now that this years challenge is made
It normally starts at the Aylmer Fall Fair
"Josiah, you're not is our class!"
He doesn't fight back he just breathes deep and stares
For to him, it's a sin for to sass
They show up at night, all dressed up in black
No surprise if you knew how they live
But tonight is the time, for them all to step up
For a Lesson's about to be give
The street was all dark, save a lantern or two
as the riders came out from the trees
These were not the old wagons you saw in the dark
These were ones that would make your heart freeze
Josiah stepped forth from the bustling crowd
Mr. Martin he said...I am here
Now is the time to show just how proud
of the horses you have over there.
I've heard of this race in the darkest of nights
Where the young men come out and are facing
Their fears and their hopes with only two lights
It's the start of Amish Drag Racing
It was something to see these men dressed all the same
Two big clydesdales each made up their team
But to both of these men, this was not just a game
This was the way that they all burned off steam
They didn't dare fight for that was a sin
And team sports didn't get the job done
None of them drank so there was no need for gin
And a barnraising just wasn't fun
Mr. Martin climbed up and he steadied his ride
Young Josiah just stood there and stared
Mr. Martin looked out, he was beaming with pride
Poor Josiah just stood looking scared
The starter came forth and he said to the men
With this hanky I will start the race
I will let it fly loose once I count to ten
And I let it fly free into space.
He counted it down and let go of the rag
And nobody moved from the post
Mr. Martins horse stood as did Josiahs old nag
And they both looked like they'd just seen a ghost
The hanky was black just like ones they all had
And nobody saw him let go
The race buildup was great but the start was quite bad
In fact some men started to go
So, they tried it again with a different technique
Cause they found nothing there that was white
You can say it was strange but I say unique
To watch Amish men race in the night.
The horses lurched forth like two huge tyco trains
Sweat was poring from off of their backs
You could see from their eys it was really a strain
As their drivers took up the reigns slack
Equally paired, with two horsepower each
They tore up the road like a shot
But a really fast speed they both never would reach
Cause two clydesdales just don't run so hot.
Amish drag racing is really a night
To see if the other would show
For it's really no way to prove who is right
And the attendance is really quite low
So if you get invited and your hear of a race
That takes place where wild things roam
Say you'd love to attend but you think to save face
You'd prefer not and would rather stay home.
..
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 7:29 PM UTC
Today marks a very special day,
Id ask for a moment of time to say...
You mean the utmost to me
I hope after 365 days you've begun to see
You're the greatest thing in my life that there could be
Babyboo I love you less than three!
No one has ever meant as much to me as you
I am grateful for every little thing you do
If what they say indeed is true
Then sweetheart, you and me are stuck like glue!
I know somedays we feeling like giving in
When all else fails and our patience is wearing thin
Just remember that loving you will never be a sin
After all I was never a man made of Tin!
This very day is marks the end
But here's to another year just around the bend
with gracious words and deepest affection do I send
To you, the one and only, greatest girlfriend
You are to me what are moon and sun
Endless thoughts of you are often why thy head run
Let us now rejoice and laugh in fun
Till the day we're wed hub and ***
From there comes prosperity and eternal life
With none other than you as my wife
Although the road may be full of strife
We cut through with the sharpest knife!
So tell me now my dear
I know our future together grows ever near
Another lonely night is one we cannot bear
But I will be here for you always so have no fear.
I love you,
I love you, you know it,
I love you
I love you, your baka the poet ♥
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 5:58 AM UTC