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Dave Hardin Dec 2016
Wrestling My Father

The scent of gasoline and lanoline lingers
mingled with sweat and Old Spice, menthol
Winston’s from back before you gave them up

for good persist in half-life beneath Vitalis
sheen and Listerine, waves of Bengay radiating
off red hot coals of trapezius muscles seized

inside a white V neck tee from Monkey Wards,
thin cotton canvas worked with small fevered hands,
greedy, slathering claim, leaving myself open to

reversal and the pin, sting of ancient rug burn
still gracing my cheek, palms pressed to face inhaling
what little I can of you by lung full.
betterdays May 2014
elephants have memories
long,
to my way of thinking,
that must be hell!

imagine, remembering
in detail,
fine and complete.

the days of your life.
beginning at number one,
when all slippery,
slimed and mucked,
you were forcibly expelled,
into a world, of hard knocks.


image, each stumbling step
as you grew,
each slur,
each pointed arrow flung your way,

first fall, first hit, first miss
first kiss and all the desperation, set between.

and then,
you hit your teens.
emotionally bruised and battered
and running for the bell
placing 563rd  in the
contest of popularity.
trying new styles of clothes, dreams and personalities.
hormones raging, momma texing, paging,
virginity flexing
and all the other
****** bluff...guff....stuff
..."hell yeah i can never get enough"

finally you get to remember,
the grown up stuff.
projects due, bills to pay,
finding somewhere half decent to stay, grocery lists,
other people constantly ******,
in a it's all your fault kinda way.
deadlines,
diminishing lifelines, standing in unemployment lines,
waiting to pay a fine lines,
playing mine or yours in
your divorce foray.
and honest to god,
thats just the day to day
k-rap.
living low and *****
until the next pay comes along.

ok, there would be,
indeed some,
remembered joys,
some flowers,
among the weeds.
but thats mere fodder
and seeds,
for a better poem .....
written on a better day.

so finally you are old.
you are so, over it!
all creak and cracks, pills,
bad backs and bengay..

not to mention, the teeth
that sit in water glass smiling away,
all night.
on the table bedside.
that my friend, is just not right.

you are counting down the days, the hours...
watching.....home and away.

til one day,
you make the mortal coil's end...
and your shift is done and dusted.
bucket kicked,
daisies planted,
dirt kissed....
                  .....recalled.

all that.... and ba-jillion more
memories looking for time
on the elephant's mammoth mind - memory  dancefloor.
free flow... started at one place
then left......
the safari tour
so it is a ramble,
wart(hog)s
and all. ..... lol.....
THE ELECTION Aug 2017
Symbols of bigotry always seen
Flags in yards so green
Swastikas tattooed on neck
The OGS recognize, still needed that check
Always drove pickups, could see gun in back
Must have thought they could still shoot a black
No longer  burned crosses, became our bosses
Blended in so well, sometimes OGS couldn't tell
Southern OGS had learned to forgive
Both groups knew who had killed
While we watched those hate groups marched
It was time for OGS to pull out that Bengay
Show the young bloods  how back in the day
We marched alongside side MLK
Allowing hate groups to turn back time
Should be seen as a crime
Politicians who support,spew rhetoric
Should be removed from office
In OGS terms, you gotta go

— The End —