"chrissy" poems
Sitting round the barbecue
there's Paddy, Jeff and me
Mary is on Paddy's right
as happy as can be
Kath is sitting next to Jon
while Chrissy chats with Fay
Paddy passes round the brew
on an orange, plastic tray
Someone grabs a guitar
and begins a happy song
No one knows the melody
but still we sing along
Over comes old Lucifer
his hooves are keeping time
Three hot dogs on his pitch fork
(and one of them is mine)
"I hate to break this up" he says
"the boss is on his way
And if we don't pass muster
then there will be Hell to pay
So put away that beer my friends
and hide that barbecue
Now everyone look miserable
and maybe we'll get through".
A golden light came shining in
as Jesus crossed the room
Paddy swung a pick ax
and I swept with a broom
And Lucifer he cursed at us
and cracked an evil whip
And then a half gone Fosters
went and fell from Paddy's hip.
You could have heard a pin
drop as that bottle hit the floor
Lucifer just shook his head
he knew what was in store
But Jesus Christ he grabbed
that brew and gave a wicked smile
"For an ice cold pint of Fosters
I would walk a country mile"
So the joint again was rockin’
And Jesus lead the way
He said “if it were up to me
I think that I would stay”
Then he downed another bottle
And he said ‘oh by the way,
My dad would not be cool with
this so hold your tongues, ok?"
We never let the secret slip
and all is right and well
And if you’d like to join
us at this barbecue in Hell
Then we have a simple rule
you see, that everyone abides
You can come and go eternally
but religion stays outside.
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 2:56 AM UTC
Deaths Of 2013
My third year doing this.
Paul Walker, Texas ranger,
driving fast leads to danger.
Matt Osbourne was Doink The Clown,
Paul Bearer always wore a frown.
Dennis Farina and James Gandolfini,
always played a mobster meany.
Peter O'Toole, famous actor,
Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher.
President Nelson Mandela,
Dennis Burkley, was a famous fat actor fella.
Lou Reed, is now on the wild side,
took all the colored girls for a ride.
Conrad Bain and Bonnie Franklin,
tv actors who had white skin.
Paul Blair and Stan The Man,
playing baseball, when they can.
Marcia Wallace and Lisa Robin Kelly,
both had ***** that bounced like jelly.
Tom Clancy wrote famous books,
not much on having good looks.
Cory Montieth and Patti Page,
one died young, other of old age.
Jean Stapleton, was Edith Bunker,
Archie always put her in the dumper.
Pat Summerall and Deacon Jones,
played football and broke some bones.
Dr. Joyce Brothers and Pauline Phillips,
they both gave good and bad tips.
Ray Manzarek, from The Doors,
Jeff Hanneman knew all Slayers chords.
Chrissy Amphlett, liked to touch herself,
Caleb Moore's trophies are on his shelf.
Mindy McCready and George Jones,
both hit those country tones.
Chris Kelly from Kris Kross,
Ed Koch is a New York loss.
David Frost and Roger Ebert,
always had words to insert.
Anneitte Funicello from Mickey Mouse Club,
Eydie Gorme almost got a snub.
Jonathan Winters, was very funny,
to come from Mork's egg, made him money.
If you don't know who these people are,
look them up, internet not very far.
For the ones that I missed,
please don't get to ******
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Yuch,
I tasted Chrissy's canned food today.
Though our tastes differ
her personality is sizable.
Her thinking faces
and her dog winks
make me think she is an old fuzzy lady.
Peoples and their pets.
Not a petty thing
yet treated as such.
This morning she
crafted an omelette
for me because I requested.
I would have liked it
but, as I said,
yuch.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:32 AM UTC
*UB40 & Al Green Fantasies
UB40 flowed easily
in my dreams last night.
Their cover of Al Green’s
“Here I Am (Come and Take Me)”1
led me to Green’s
“Love And Happiness”2
a “do right”, “do wrong” song
sung in all night long
soul.... oh yes!
A walkin’
talkin’
your hand covering mine
in a love
and happiness
witnessed floating
on clouds of pink shaded,
apricot’d ecstacy.
Oooooh yes
love soaked sheets
drenched in sweet happiness.
I awoke from this fantasy
reluctanly. But all day I’m singing,
darlin’
let me bring you
“Breakfast In Bed”3
Aztec Warrior/redzone 6.18.16
Notes: 1 is the title of the UB40 cover of Al Green’s
song: “Here I Am (Come and Take Me"
2 is Al Green’s “Love and Happiness”
3 is the title of another UB40 song featuring
Chrissy Hynd*
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 2:20 PM UTC
peep this...you can't see the forest or the trees because of material in the way, and when you hold up a mirror, you see perfection...i never liked mirrors, because i want to see something new...yes i was born and raised in ohio
up up in ohio
two brothers got together
to talk about some wings
to talk about the weather
thanks for the wind lord
we have to spread the word
eagles can't even speak
we need wings like a bird
on orville's death bed
his wishes were his plan
please use this bird for good
and let the pilot only be a man
moral of this story is that the female was trying to prove something and landed near cannibals, who only thought of living and not proving
the wright brothers doing for fellow man...women aren't evil, but will be used as a vessel until they accept their role...to be whole...i know it's offensive to women, but it's logical to religion and science alike. My favorite writer ever is Mary Shelley, and one of my favorite poets and singers is Chrissy Hinde. Women aren't less than men, so when they don't feel a need to prove it, things will change. Just trying to think of a whole, and what it takes, Because that will make me whole. Love.
look at their names
the wRIGHT brothers
amelia AIRheart
drones controlled by women refer to documentary "america's bird"
sinister
maybe someone else invented flight...maybe god maybe nasa
Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 8:54 PM UTC
A beautiful, naked man stares at me from across the room.
With excitement emulating from my pores, I smile.
Feeling aroused, I begin to touch myself to his image.
I think of all the incredible feats this man can complete.
He could outbang any man in Philly, nay, in the world,
And his system for doing so is flawless.
No woman can equal his beauty. No man is so purely masculine.
I’ve seen him perform a perfect double jack-knife twist,
Right into the lap, and ******* of Chrissy Orlando.
An impossible execution for most, but not for this Adonis,
Not for this god amongst men.
Because of lovely vocals and protruding muscles,
He, alone, defeated the dreaded Nightman.
I come close, as I picture the large amount of *******
Which throw themselves into his immaculately toned arms.
Oh! – yes! I look past the mirror, into his eyes,
And ********* pure, liquid gold onto the carpet.
I wink to myself through the glass, as Mac calls from the other side of the door.
It’s time to begin yet another day in the majestic body of
Dennis Reynolds.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 7:22 AM UTC
I walked my dog this morning
and it was the perfect time for a walk
(thanks Chrissy).
It was just as the morning sun was
making its face known.
I got to see the gentle morning
cloud that coated my childish
forest hills get burned away;
I got to see the familiar mist
on my nearby lake be born,
I had never seen it start to rise,
but this morning, I watched
it grow.
The white light of the sun was
drowned in the atmosphere
to become a gentle yellow that
shown on the trees,
and everything was breathing,
was aglow, with the multitude
of dew that had gathered from
yesterday's rain showers.
Directly against the yellow air,
blue bark gnarled by time,
green mosses with redheads
sticking out in patches within
patches.
Red cardinals flinging themselves and
thrashers too in their characteristic
Spanish flair. Ravens aplenty,
fishing crows too, their ugly cries
adding to the density of elegant
morning conversations.
Among all of this, one bullfrog called
once during the morning walk. I
took a moment to turn and look towards.
Most of all, there were colorful
southern flowers that rang down
in chains, left right one-two's
that drooped with dew, and they
were drained of their former glory
for Spring has been over.
The walk:
a nice good morning and a
reminder of breath, a way
to clear morning thoughts
and bring a hint of the road.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
Hey, Gram.
It's been awhile.
Do you miss us down here?
I miss your smile.
Can you believe it's already been nine years?
Me neither,
but there's been a whole lot of good times,
and a whole lot of tears.
I find myself wishing I could hear your
laugh, or even just your voice
one more time..
at least inside my mind,
it doesn't seem like you're gone.
I thought I'd just write you a little letter
to let you know you're still so loved
and though it's gotten a little better,
I sometimes wish you weren't
waiting up above,
but still down here with us.
That's just me being selfish,
but our little family is growing.
I'm sure you've seen G
and how big she's getting.
Gram, you'd love her so much,
she has your eyes.
And Chrissy's getting married,
I promise you'd love Monica, too.
She makes all of us laugh so much -
something you used to do.
But it's time for me to sign off here
and stop before I cry,
cause God knows
I always get a little choked up
whenever you cross my mind.
I wish you were here,
I love you,
and I miss you every day.
Love,
Your Punka-doodle-do
Forever & Always
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
How did you get so pretty?
Every morning thats how she greets me
Who loves you baby doll?
She screams down the hall
No one loves me I tell her truthfully
I do she adds pitifully
I love you too
but only because you're stuck with me and I'm stuck with you
May 12, 2011
May 12, 2011 at 8:57 PM UTC
I am here like I promised I would be. I have been sitting here for awhile now , remembering you. I wish so badly to be able to see you... To hear you.... Something.... Anything.
From the back yard it all appears normal and as though life is unchanged. It is anything but normal.
The roses.... They are still here. Untouched by time other than some weathering of the stems. How I hate those roses and what they represent.
I'll not touch them. But I will recall their meaning that day.
I want you to know I am so very sorry I was unable to be here for you that fateful day. I would do anything to change that. I am here now and I am not leaving. I will stay here for you, knowing there is nothing I can do to bring you back.
It's 6. You would be home. It's already happening... And no one can stop the horror of your last minutes. It hurts so bad knowing what you had to endure. Remembering the aftermath.
So much left unsaid, undone.... So much life you had yet to live snatched away in a cowardly display of power, control, and pure venom.
It must be nearing that time. I am beginning to feel you. I am beginning to get chills up my spine. The breeze has picked up some. A sparrow went hopping around in your roses.
I should be sitting out here with you. Not sitting out here remembering you. Fires, chatting, watching the kids play as they were growing up...so many memories flooding back all at once. So heart wrenching to know they will never be more than memories ever again.
You should be popping out of the back door and sarcastically asking me, "Why aren't you coming in Chrissy? Too lazy to take your shoes off or what ? " Then would be that laugh.... I loved that that laugh. No more picking back and forth. No more joking around. No more funny sarcasm. No more anything. It's all no more.
I pray where ever you are now that you are happy. That you can still hear and see us all. That you know how deeply we miss you and love you. That you know you will never be forgotten. And that you know I am here today.
I love you so much Deb.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
THE MIND FIELD OF MY PAST
KIM
DONNA
LIZ
RISSA
WENDY
KIM AGIAN
NANCY
WENDY AGAIN
MARY
CHRISSY
FOR GOT HER NAME
WENDY AGAIN
LORI
CINDY
SUSAN
NO NOT YOU
TRISH
WENDY AGAIN
1
2
3
4
WENDY AGAIN
NOW HOW MANY MORE?
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 1:14 AM UTC
It was way past 9 and Chrissy knew she shouldn't be on the phone, but she didnt care. She'd been doing what she wanted to do lately. Giggling with Bryant on the other end she heard footsteps and the bathroom door slam shut. "oh **** she whispered, quickly hanging up the phone and turning it off. Sliding it under her pillow she heard the toilet flush and threw the covers over her face.
Her door creaked and in peered her uncle Dan. He walked over to the bed and peeled the covers back just a tad leaving Chrissy's face uncovered, glanced and proceeded out to leave the door open.
She could hear him walk to the back to his son's room to repeat the same actions only changing at the end by closing his door.
Chrissy's heart began to beat fast thinking she would get caught, with ever step he took was another toss and turn she made in her bed. Trying to get just comfortable enough to face him.
Looking closely at the door, chrissy began to question why he left her door open and why was he prolonging it, why didnt he just ****** her phone and put her on punishment?
He stopped in her doorway and pulled his pants down, "what the **** " chrissy thought to herself squeezing her eyes tightly while praying these were tricks and side effects from the **** she and Bryant smoked.
It was over fast and yet dragged along with every groan that escaped his lips. When he finished and finally closed her door she reached under her pillow and called Bryant historical, "i dont know what just happened B, all i know is he pulled his **** out "
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 2:46 PM UTC
Christmas is near,
Summer is here,
Mozzies we fear,
Presents appear.
Bring out the thongs,
And barbecue tongs,
Where Santa belongs,
With our Chrissy songs.
Bondi is packed,
Beer bottles cracked,
Pressies are now packed,
Those, Santa has sacked.
But Australia is burning,
Our stomachs are churning,
A lot we aren't learning,
From how this year's turning.
This is our New Year,
We may shed a tear,
As we live in fear,
As Christmas comes near.
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 6:18 PM UTC
Such were evenings of the type too often marked as sultry,
But sometimes such descriptions are apt
And thus denoted as so;
We would be well into the bottles and cans
To such point as we were not wearing them particularly well,
And so we spoke of things
Which may or may not have mattered,
The relative merits of cinema femme fatales
Dead four, perhaps five decades,
The notion of such women who had it,
(Followed by the de rigeur toasts to Chrissy Hynde,
And long may she wail)
Various things which disappeared with the fog and dew
Once sunrise made its unhappy presence known,
And when the old boiler suggested that sleep and abstinence
Constituted the prudent route to follow,
I excused myself for a walk,
(Nodding to my brother-in-law as he nodded,
Possibly but not invariably still awake)
Undertaken in various shambling states of unsteadiness
Back to my mother-in-law's house
Muttering silent regrets for the lack of bread crumbs
Mixed with somewhat less than sotto voce snippets
Of songs sung earlier with considerable gusto
And nearly adequate fidelity to sharps and flats,
And if I had maintained a relative judiciousness in my intake
(The alternative an unpleasant return to my domicile pro tem,
Usually marked with an entrance featuring mud and mayhem,
More or less forgiven the next morning)
I would, if the evening was clear and still,
Speculate upon the nature of the starlight,
Be it the distress calls of celestial bodies dark and listless
Or something in its salad days, so to speak,
And often it would strike me as somewhat less than fitting
That not a single glass had been raised to their health.
Nov 10, 2019
Nov 10, 2019 at 8:39 PM UTC