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"ballou" poems
My children will have a childhood. I will make sure of it. They will swim in ponds littered with Lilly pads Dive down to muddy depths like fearless fish. Sink tiny toes into slick black mud. They will thrash strong tanned legs Toward the gleaming surface above. And **** deep breaths of country air. They will slumber beneath the stars To the sounds of bullfrogs and singing crickets And the frenzy of flickering fairies of the night. They will use glass wands of glitter Just as a magician might To hammer All at once the warm dry earth Sending grasshoppers springing In startled unison- Like magic To escape the alien vibrations. They will run barefoot through fields. Drag behind them a big black beast named Ballou or Bear- or something like it. He who leaps on four legs And licks with pink tongue. They will dance to songs They do not understand. And fashion forts from fallen brushwood. They will swing from high up branches Only climbers of trees can reach. They will discover an island of trees Some sweltering summer day As they wade through waist high Green grass that breathes along With the erratic waving of the wind. They will claim it as their own. They will name it Sail Away or- something like it. And ***** a flapping flag of dishtowel and twig. They will pull from backpacks Granola bars and beef jerky And gulp water from their base camp. And return only when it is too dark And they are too weary To embark on any more adventures. My children will have a childhood. They will have one because I did.
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Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
molly-westfall1d
Childhood
My children will have a childhood. I will make sure of it. They will swim in ponds littered with Lilly pads Dive down to muddy depths like fearless fish. Sink tiny toes into slick black mud. They will thrash strong tanned legs Toward the gleaming surface above. And **** deep breaths of country air. They will slumber beneath the stars To the sounds of bullfrogs and singing crickets And the frenzy of flickering fairies of the night. They will use glass wands of glitter Just as a magician might To hammer All at once the warm dry earth Sending grasshoppers springing In startled unison- Like magic To escape the alien vibrations. They will run barefoot through fields. Drag behind them a big black beast named Ballou or Bear- or something like it. He who leaps on four legs And licks with pink tongue. They will dance to songs They do not understand. And fashion forts from fallen brushwood. They will swing from high up branches Only climbers of trees can reach. They will discover an island of trees Some sweltering summer day As they wade through waist high Green grass that breathes along With the erratic waving of the wind. They will claim it as their own. They will name it Sail Away or- something like it. And ***** a flapping flag of dishtowel and twig. They will pull from backpacks Granola bars and beef jerky And gulp water from their base camp. And return only when it is too dark And they are too weary To embark on any more adventures. My children will have a childhood. They will have one because I did.
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There is always some twit who looks down his nose and thinks that he knows me,I think he knows **** all and the harder he looks the harder he'll fall, but he is of no consequence to me,I'd tell him he's a **** but you see,I must be polite,I must put up with his **** otherwise I might give him a right hander,the only thing that he's right in, is in knowing nothing, the ***** Who knows how I tick? not that twot, he hasn't got a clue and wearing a cheap Primark suit he thinks he's Cat Ballou but I just get on with it,take no notice,not a bit,but if he ***** with me I'll slit his throat. the little ******
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
john-edward-smallshaw
Always the quiet ones.
There is always some twit who looks down his nose and thinks that he knows me,I think he knows **** all and the harder he looks the harder he'll fall, but he is of no consequence to me,I'd tell him he's a **** but you see,I must be polite,I must put up with his **** otherwise I might give him a right hander,the only thing that he's right in, is in knowing nothing, the ***** Who knows how I tick? not that twot, he hasn't got a clue and wearing a cheap Primark suit he thinks he's Cat Ballou but I just get on with it,take no notice,not a bit,but if he ***** with me I'll slit his throat. the little ******
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4