#bubba
Piles of papers glaring at me.
Signed, stamped, copied, for time and a fee.
Words and no promises, on the bark of a tree.
While you're somewhere else rapidly growing.
Days pass, we punch clocks, adding the time.
As the papers, they sit in the back of my mind.
She thinks wanting to see you is none but a crime.
While you're somewhere else distantly dreaming.
All the jabber and frenzy of what's wrong and right,
While no one observes our rigorous plight,
The lack of your presence haunts him at night.
While you're somewhere else sharing your laughter.
Your room is filled with your toys and your smiles,
Waiting for you to play in it awhile.
Waging war with the enemy goes on for miles.
While you're somewhere else slowly forgetting.
To say sadness is present does not quite explain.
All the stress, anger, longing inside of his brain.
Constantly trying to distract from the pain.
While you're with those who want to restrain you.
I believe there is good in the hearts of the wise,
Yet, some will use pawns to harvest the lies.
While the ones they need dearly are hung out to dry.
While you're somewhere else coloring pictures.
In the end, we will see you again and again.
No matter how many papers or strokes of a pen.
We love you, bubba, and we WON'T give in.
Cause you're somewhere else, incomplete.
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
a dog barks to start a fight with bubba
and he gets
mean like an ant who's
sugars' been stolen and I tell him
that's an ugly dog
when ugly people populate the planet, I get mad,
but I don't bite their heads off.
He got really calm after that
and I waved at a gardener
as if to say,
'It's okay,
it won't happen again.'
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
Dear Santa:
We'll take the Ruger 357
with Hydro-shock ammunition
We'll order up 3 new AR's
goin on, a hunting mission
Give us some new cammo
to hide in the woods, and trees
So the game, we're after
won't know we're there, or see
Those new Ray-bans
with the special coating
Enhancing our reality
their efficacy, we'll be, promoting
It's X-mas time in bubba-land
we all know, what that means
Dreams of guns, and hunting deer
with the kids now, at thirteen
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 10:45 AM UTC
My son looked up at me
tears, in both his eyes
"Why did Bubba have to go?"
shoulders heaving, as he cries
Holding back my own grief
with pain I can't deny
"All dogs go to heaven, son"
with heavy hearts, we said goodbye
We got him at the shelter
large breeds, hard to adopt
fur and coat as soft as silk
his ears didn't stand, but flopped
Bubba was no simple mutt
protector, lives, and loves, and things
"All Mutts go to heaven, son
all dogs have angel wings"
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC