"dukes" poems
I tried, x
**
something I get a lot is, “you’re too young to be a feminist.”
too young to be a feminist for you’ve yet to witness a rhyme or reason to believe we lived in a patriarch-fueled
society where the erectile dysfunctions of men are paid for by health care but, God forbid a
woman seeks birth control to help herself
God forbid a woman does anything to help herself
a society where women are taught to be happy with what they can get
yet to be ashamed when they get it
a society where I grew up being taught not to trust a man for he’d hurt me but
taught to have the house clean and his dinner on the table when he got home
a society where a woman in a tank top and a pair of daisy dukes is a ***** who is asking for it”
when the same woman is what’s used to market the male population who are taught that this is the woman they deserve
a society where a woman is unworthy and ***** if she isn’t a ******
but a man is a man so long as he is “getting the hoes”
a society where women are taught to protect their innocence and their virtue
and the society where they are ostracized and ridiculed for not being ready
a society where consent is hopped, skipped, and jumped around and the so called “fact” issued by
Scott Johnson that says men can’t control their issues
a society where a woman’s womb is not her own whether she wants this baby or not
I was taught *** was shameful and wrong unless you were married
but please, give him a baby and keep him satisfied
we glorify teen pregnancies and ignore the accomplishments of women
if I’m too young to be a feminist,
then it’s quite **** sad I can point out what’s wrong in the world.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
Every couple 'a years or so
Our family reunites
It takes a couple 'a years or so
To recover from the fights
A family like our'n
Doesn't party like most do
Ours gets a little out of hand
That's why we have so few
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's daisy dukes and forty Lukes
They're racing trucks and burning rubber
There's jugs of moonshine everywhere
And at least a hundred bubbas
There's a smoker fired for the food
the size of two large trucks
It hold 4 cows, and fourteen pigs
And at least a hundred ducks
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's pickled this and pickled that
And things you just can't swallow
That used to live down in the swamp
Way back there in the hollow
There's at least ten shotgun weddings there
And the groom might be rail roaded
But, the wedding isn't legal
If the shotgun isn't loaded
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's greased up pigs and muddy runts
And at least ten bobby sues
and when they all get greased up
You can't tell which is who
There's horseshoe pits for tossing shoes
And games of every sort
Most of them aren't legal
And would get you into court
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
But, it's the way we like it
Drinking shine and acting out
Tossing things that aren't tied down
And wrassling about
There's music there of just one kind
It's country and that matters
Any other sort of sound
Sets the crowd off like mad hatters
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
There's always someone who's so drunk
And it's normally the preacher
Last year we married him off
To the back up first grade teacher
There's Chevy trucks of every kind
And one covered in sod
Mary Lou showed her tattoo
"Jeff Foxworthy is my God"
It's the best time of the year for us
And it's sad when it must end
but, you gotta haul your *** away
When the cops come round that bend
It's a redneck family reunion
everybody has a grand old time
eating grandma's cooking
and drinking grandpas shine
You never go home hungry
If you make it home at all
You go home bruised and battered
And you surely had a ball
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
"Redneck Family Reunion"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v;=jfHwg22ZqhU
(Verse 1)
A family like ours don't party like most
Ours gets a little out of hand
They're racing trucks and burning rubber
And tearing up all the land
There's jars of moonshine and daisy dukes
Everywhere you look
Ol' Bocephus on the radio
And catfish on every hook
(Chorus)
It's a redneck family reunion
Everybody has a good time
Eatin' all of grandma's cookin'
And drinkin' all of grandpa's shine
You're never gonna go home hungry
If you make it home at all
Yeah, it's a redneck family reunion
And everybody has a ball
(Verse 2)
There's horseshoe pits for tossin' shoes
And games of every sort
Most of them ain't legal
And will land your *** in court
4 wheel trails that will lead you to
Way back in that hollow
Don't you dive head first into that pool
You know it's way to shallow
(Repeat Chorus)
(Bridge)
It's the best time of the year for us
And it's sad that it must end
But you know it's time to head on home
When the cops come round the bend
(Repeat Chorus)
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
This Ain't a ******* Country Song
You know I love my Rock and Roll
I wouldn't write a Country Song
'Cause that's not how I roll
This song it ain't bout country things
Like pickup trucks and cars
You'll never find me writing
About getting drunk in bars
There's no mention here of Taylor Swift
or The Charlie Daniels Band
I wouldn't write of how the banks
are taking our farmland
This Ain't a ******* Country Song
You know I love my Rock and Roll
I wouldn't write a Country Song
'Cause that's not how I roll
I don't know **** 'bout Redneck stuff
like hunting dogs and guns
I wouldn't write of Daisy Dukes
showing off some hot babes buns
I won't write 'bout the Opry
I don't know all that stuff
Of Minnie Pearl and Grandpa Jones
And Mr. Roy Acuff
This Ain't a ******* Country Song
You know I love my Rock and Roll
I wouldn't write a Country Song
'Cause that's not how I roll
There's nothing here 'bout Bourbon
or of Racing through the fields
I don't know much about farming
or crop futures or of yields
I listen to The Rolling Stones
Trace Adkins I don't like
Lady A can go away
Kid Rock can ride his bike
You won't hear much about Zac Browns Band
or of food thats Chicken Fried
I might go to a hoedown
If I'd just up and died
My music, it fulfills me
It makes me who I am
But I'll stay away from country
songs, Cause I don't give a ****
No Oak Ridge Boys or Hee Haw Here
Hank Williams I won't buy
I'll never buy a Dixie Beer
It's a drink I'll never try
I won't sing about Kentucky
or of a Texas Yellow Rose
you know this aint no country song
Good god I hope it shows
There's no mohter, dogs or applie pie
no fishin' in the dark
No Everything is Beautiful
No songs by Terry Clark
I'm really open minded
My friends they are the same
We won't buy country music
To us it's just so lame
This Ain't a ******* Country Song
You know I love my Rock and Roll
I wouldn't write a Country Song
'Cause that's not how I roll
I won't mention stuff you'll find
in songs by Nashville bands
There's nothing here about
watching football in the stands
I'll never write a country song
Cause country just ain't fun
Oh crap I just read this thing
And I think I just wrote one
This Ain't a ******* Country Song
You know I love my Rock and Roll
I wouldn't write a Country Song
'Cause that's not how I roll
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 10:33 AM UTC
She's my pretty city country girl
She's something I can't lose
Is she livin' in the country
or the city, she must choose
You know I really love her
She's the one I really want
But if she moves off to the city
It's my heart she'll stay and haunt.
When I first saw her smiling face
It was a good old summers day
She had moved down from the city
And I hoped that she would stay
We played games out in the haystacks
We ran races through the corn
Turn left and hit the river
Turn right, you're lost till morn
She's my pretty city country girl
She's something I can't lose
Is she livin' in the country
or the city, she must choose
You know I really love her
She's the one I really want
But if she moves off to the city
It's my heart she'll stay and haunt.
She occupied my dreams then
And still does to this day
Back then I hardly new her
I just hoped that she would stay
Short shorts and Gingham dresses
made her look the country part
But high heels and silk organza
Tugged the city in her heart
She's my pretty city country girl
She's something I can't lose
Is she livin' in the country
or the city, she must choose
You know I really love her
She's the one I really want
But if she moves off to the city
It's my heart she'll stay and haunt.
We'd go to high school hoedowns
And dance like no one else was there
But when she heard Big Band Music
She was dreaming of Times Square
She loved to go out touring
In my pickup through the crops
But in my heart I knew she missed
The sounds of taxi cabs and cops
She's my pretty city country girl
She's something I can't lose
Is she livin' in the country
or the city, she must choose
You know I really love her
She's the one I really want
But if she moves off to the city
It's my heart she'll stay and haunt.
She stayed here all through high school
But I knew deep down it had to end
I knew if I tried to say "I Love You"
she'd say "I love you like a friend"
She knew I'd never leave here
And I knew she had it made
If she went back to the city
And stopped her country masquerade
She's my pretty city country girl
She's something I can't lose
Is she livin' in the country
or the city, she must choose
You know I really love her
She's the one I really want
But if she moves off to the city
It's my heart she'll stay and haunt.
It was two weeks past commencement
When I told her what I thought
Then I dropped down to me knee right there
And I showed her what I'd bought
I looked into her smiling eyes
And prayed that she'd say yes
Would she choose to stay in Daisy Dukes
Or go back to her chiffon dress
I'll let you guess the answer
By the way I end this poem
But I'm still here in the country
And she's waiting now at home.
She's my pretty city country girl
She's something I can't lose
Is she livin' in the country
or the city, she must choose
You know I really love her
She's the one I really want
But if she moves off to the city
It's my heart she'll stay and haunt.
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 7:08 PM UTC
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
Sometimes
(Just like these days)
When my heart
sang a placid song
the speaking brooks
meanders my soul
Wild hounds
hovered the meadows
And the sky was blue
ethereal as the billow
strews in shades anew
For Daybreak
is awake
On the fields
of glowing weeds
a subtle flower blooms
through the breeze
And to thee,
it kisses the gentle mist
Oh! what a Morning
Oh! what a day
When trees glistens
from beams
of never ending sun rays
made me so gay
so yes, it can be.
Sometimes
(Just like these days)
Like Diamonds & Gold
upon barren land
and rubies worn
by a maiden’s hand
Oh! what an Evening
Oh! what a way
When monarchs flew
from voluptuous crooks
dodging witches
and evil dukes
Callous, Treacherous
"A Foolish Irony"
might I say
but yes, it can be.
Sometimes
(Just like these days)
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
I stand here on a street corner,
daisy dukes and fish nets,
my favorite Metallica crop top
floating up on moonlit skin.
Monster truck inching close,
breath pacing through the city streets,
I walk to the edge of his dark lair
to bite any hesitation.
With curt words and close heads
I smell the whiskey in his breathe.
Pulling into the alley's grip,
I let him lead and grit my teeth.
"Shhhh, I won't get busted again."
the whiskey whispers against my ear,
"Don't make a peep."
Then I'm not sure if it's man or whiskey
who turns me around in callused hands.
He spits first,
entering with a grunt,
and my hands slide down the window with each ******
5 minutes.
I horn honks in the distance, long and mad,
as whiskey man unloads on my back,
along with his long, satisfied growl.
That's it, with a reluctant 20 bucks,
and I'm back biting the wind.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 9:20 PM UTC
Everyday I wake up,
thinking sleeping seconds take up all the space up
in a mind that wont shut up!
So don't get up, don't stand up,
for sure don't put your hands up.
I got so many heavy feelings I wont ever touch the ceiling.
But I throw the blanket of me,
all the shaking and the tossing
lost me seconds and it threatens that by end of the sentence,
with the dot a tock will deaden all the world here of this presence.
Ya I guess that you could say I'm afraid of death,
and that by the time I get to hell there wont be anything scary left,
so I take aim and shoot at life like it's the wild wild west,
I count on chaos, okay, I don't live for the blessed.
Get me out of this feeling, my head is messed.
Get me out of this feeling, my head is messed.
Oh, get yourself into some sunshine,
relax in the feeling unwind,
let the warmth settle inside.
It's alright, it's alright.
Put your dukes down, love. There's no fight.
Relax in the feeling unwind,
let the warmth settle inside.
It's alright, it's alright.
I gotta say I'm feelin' pretty dark here tonight,
but she's dark and she's pretty,
so I guess it could be alright!
Maybe she can replace this feeling that always makes me wanna fight.
I bite lightning, spight right wings with shocking mockings
that got me walking away from any kind of kinder light
Tell me to bare some arms I might!
But then I take a second and remember all the reasons it is that I come back again and fight.
Ya I guess that you could say I'm afraid of death,
I take aim and shoot at life like it's the wild wild west,
so by the time I get to hell there wont be anything scary left,
I count on chaos, okay, I don't live for the blessed.
Get me out of this feeling, my head is messed.
Get me out of this feeling, my head is messed.
Oh, get yourself into some sunshine,
relax in the feeling unwind,
let the warmth settle inside.
It's alright, it's alright.
Put your dukes down, love. There's no fight.
Relax in the feeling unwind,
let the warmth settle inside.
It's alright, it's alright.
Imagine what it is you could do,
if everybody in your life was in support of you,
and were the wind up on which you flew
wouldn't you do all the things that you imagined you could do?
Imagine what it is you could do,
if everybody in your life was in support of you,
and were the wind up on which you flew.
Wouldn't you do all of the things that life inspired you to do?
Imagine what it is you could do,
if everybody in your life was in support of you,
and were the wind up on which you flew.
Wouldn't you do all the things that you imagined you could do?
Oh, imagine what it is they could do
If all your friends and family were supported by you,
and you were the wind upon which they flew.
You'd be a little scared to imagine them without you. Wouldn't you?
Oh, get yourself into some sunshine,
relax in the feeling unwind,
let the warmth settle inside.
It's alright, it's alright.
Put your dukes down, love. There's no fight.
Relax in the feeling unwind,
let the warmth settle inside.
It's alright, it's alright.
Oh, imagine what it is they could do
If all your friends and family were supported by you,
and you were the wind upon which they flew.
You'd be a little scared to imagine them without you. Wouldn't you?
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 4:40 PM UTC
I have done many exceptional things in my life.
I have traveled to far-away worlds with effervescent seas.
I have fought alongside rebels and mutineers: against oppressive dukes and deities.
I, so vividly, remember the times I danced on the tops of skyscrapers. Thereafter howling at the moon with my fellow gypsies. But more than that, I remember the gentle laughter of friends.
I remember the soft hands of those I love on mine, while the sunsetted on an entirely unforgettable day.
I find my grandest adventures after the sun has dipped down out of sight, and the moon has risen to illuminate my so out of focus world.
I find them as I’m hunched over in my bed.
I find them as my fingers are trembling over the keys of a laptop; the glow of the screen burning in my eyes.
As I rip post-it notes full of ideas off my walls and mesh them together, I become some sort of enchanter; thus beginning yet another journey.
Although I may have not truly gone on such adventures, the feeling would remain the same if I had. Because, as I’ve come to realize, the truest of grand adventures starts with simply a single blank page and the desire to tell an earth-shattering story.
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
Slashers Defined
In response to my piece, Slashers, it was requested that maybe I could
reveal at least which band or other info these great guitar players performed for to gain their claim to fame. I don't want to spend too much
time on this defintion, but will give what info I think is pertinent. If you do not know some of the names I have presented to you, and you are a blues,
rock, jazz, fusion guitar fan, I suggest you take the time to listen to some of their work. I have included some of my favorite incredible fusion players that do not have a super star following, but are renowned in their group of fans, probably mostly musicians to some degree.
If you are a frustrated guitar player like I am, do not listen to the likes of Holdsworth, Johnson, Gambale, or Morse unless you love being tortured.
Anyway on with the show.
Eric Clapton – Yardbirds, Cream, Blind Faith, Derek and the Dominos.
Jimmy Page – Yardbirds, Led Zeppe, The Honeydrippers, The Firm
Jimi Hendrix – not only what is, but, what could have been
Alan Holdsworth – Solo jazz fusion player – hot
Steve Howe – Yes, Asia - Progressive rock, jazz –
Bill Nelson – BeBop Deluxe, Solo
Terry Kath – Chicago (25 or 6 to 4) – another sad early departure
Ted Nugent – Amboy Dukes, **** Yankees – The madman
Jim Krueger – Dave Mason Band – solo progressive rock
Eddy Van Halen – Van Halen
Ritchie Blackmore – Deep Purple, Rainbow
Jerry Doucette – Doucette (Mama let him play)
Eric Johnson – Solo – New Age, jazz
Frank Gambale – Australian- Jazz, fusion, rock
Goerge Benson – Jazz
Larry Carlton – Jazz, new age rock
Marc Farner - Grand Funk Railroad
Peter Frampton – Humble Pie, solo
Joe Satriani - New age – solo
Johnny A. - jazz, new age – solo
Danny Gatton – jazz, rockabilly – solo
Chet Atkins – jazz, country
John Mayer – Pop, blues – solo
Neal Schon – Journey
Steve Lukather – Toto
Masyoshi Takanaka – New age, jazz – Japanese solo
Lee Ritnour – Jazz, new age – solo
Leslie West - Mountain, West Bruce & Laing
Monty Montgomery – jazz, blues (accoustic you have never heard)
Wes Montgomery – jazz 40's – 50's
Phil Keaggy – New age Christian
Robin Trower – Procul Harem
Brian May – Queen
Rick Derringer – Montrose, Edgar Winter Group, Steely Dan
Robin Ford – John Mayall, Chick Corea, solo jazz, fusion, blues
Carlos Santana – Santana
Ronnie Montrose – Montrose
Steve Morse – Dixie Dregs, Kansas, solo jazz, fusion
Trevor Rabin – Yes, solo new age
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:19 PM UTC
Clicking their way forward and back,
Flip-flopping into or hearts
If a girl can con money
Out of their fathers’ pockets,
who’s to say
They can’t sway politicians?
Their lips kiss pictures.
Pictures of cannabis leaves, yellow and smiling
They live until they die,
don’t live until they’re married
And if they don’t find what they want,
what else do they need
besides a crowd of fellow millennials
Caring, caring?
Caring about cannabis’ rights
and the right to carry a GBF,
their money, their frame
and, above all, pepper spray
These girls are the new
honest, hard-working man,
Their sweet scent is coming.
Sweet pea and Moonlight Path.
the top-selling fragrances at
Bath and Body Works
Their battle-cry is only
as loud as their looks
Daisy dukes and Katy Perry
whispering, “What the hell is she wearing?
She dons thin, rose-gold underwear
and she’s lazy yet keyed-up
in her own skin
Her lovers are all the same
but she blames all men.
Her wings are Pink,
they protect her from catcalls.
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 1:04 AM UTC
If you have money you work
and if you work you have money
and the cycle continues
especially in a place like New York
that do the same thing over and over again
But there is a difference between workers
I am a worker
I look at the tall buildings in New York
Like a medieval anarchy
the top full of kings and queens,dukes and knights
the bottom full of peasants and slaves
and at the bottom full of witches burning in hell
those witches burning in greed and sin that they did not commit
there feet burning in ashes from their work from surrendering to the higher ups
crying to be release to the surface
but knowing they will always be chain to their hell.
So while I was sweeping the floor for greedy saints
I look up, took my broom and fly
fly just like a witch
breaking my ties with eternal hell
forever severing the bonds of surrendering and greed
of work and money
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 4:30 PM UTC
it is tempting to lose yourself
in the pleasure of wordly possessions
money, cars, yachts, beautiful things
the Dagobert Duck syndrome
as we know
even the pharaos of ancient times
together with assorted kings and emperors
chiefs, dukes, presidents, popes, & cetera,
could only take their toys
into their graves
and not beyond
we do not know for sure
although we may believe
if immaterial possessions
have a better fate
yet even though we do not know
what our final moment brings
a thoughtful wrinkle on your brow
looks always better than
a bleak array of orphaned things
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 2:51 PM UTC
Amerikeisha tapping out the drumbeat with her see through plastic mechanical pencil
Me sidewinding my way through highschool
Dizzy Gillespie's trumpet waking the souls that are buried in the lockers,
Chick Corea and I are returning to forever
The land where summer is the only season
And daisy dukes are greatly appreciated,
John Coltrane is helping me realize
How beautiful girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes are,
I've been dancing to Dave Brubeck since this morning
And I can't get Maria out of my head
I just picture Maria
As this girl
Feeling Pretty
Oh so pretty
I imagine if I saw her in the street
I wouldn't double take
But Take Five
Charlie Parker playing saxophone like
It's as easy as brushing his teeth,
Nat King Cole
Serenading Hispanic women with his soothing tone
Robert Glasper experimenting with his music
Burning you brain like mentholated cough drops
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 8:57 PM UTC
Calender Girls
Miss January, keeps me very warm,
make me glad, that I was born.
Miss February, covers me from snow,
oh man, can she really blow.
Miss March, knows her wrong from right,
never had a ***** so **** tight.
Miss April, is a famous **** star,
she likes to take things a bit to far.
Miss May, gives me an all day smile,
all month long, we walk the mile.
Miss June, looks good in Daisy Dukes,
I'm waiting on the line of Bo's and Luke's.
Miss July, blows me a birthday kiss,
she likes to hold it while I ****
Miss August, wears a bikini thong,
then we smoke a big fat ****
Miss September, wears a back to school skirt,
not sure if she even owns a shirt.
Miss October, likes to trick or treat,
her body tastes oh so sweet.
Miss November, lets me fill her turkey with stuffing,
at first I thought she might be bluffing.
Miss December, likes to sit on my lap,
her sweet *** I like to slap.
I love, I love, I love my calender girls,
triplets with the youngest one in curls.
I love my calender, that hangs on my wall,
it makes my ***** stand so tall.
Even though it's all my imagination,
my train always leaves the station.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
197
Morning—is the place for Dew—
Corn—is made at Noon—
After dinner light—for flowers—
Dukes—for Setting Sun!
1.6k
8yrs young
lo0000nnnnnnnnggggggggg
thick shiny blue black hair
Air Force Papa wanted a Wash N Wear
He wanted mija* with Dorthy Hamill hair
So I was ordered to March down the street
to Emilias Holy Carport
Emilia La Bautista Mexicana*
She knew no english but she knew Jesus
She'd cut your hair and save your soul
That day i requested un "Dori Hamel" Cut
She smiled and charismaticly said Amen! Te vas a ver muy bonita*
Her holy * tijeras snipped
my hair glided to the cement floor like feathers off angels wings
She made me look right
she made me look left
and when i looked up...
I HAD A MULLET
my tears came down
because of my Dukes of Hazzard crown
and I marched home to Dixie
Feb 4, 2011
Feb 4, 2011 at 7:32 PM UTC
Relax.
I know your instincts are screaming to fight.
This is a mistake.
You will only hurt yourself.
Just relax.
You are frightened, confused, and angry.
This is only natural.
You will tell yourself to not feel these things.
This is a mistake.
Feel them, own them.
They are yours.
It is only natural.
You are being dragged backwards through a hedge.
You say,"Stop it!
The branches are tearing my shirt!
This is my favorite shirt!"
This is a mistake.
**** your shirt.
Tear it into bandanas,
sell them on Etsy.
Just buy more shirts.
Pack of four. $9.99. Wal-Mart.
Tell a stranger a story
about the scars the hedge gave you.
Maybe he'll trade you
a shirt for a good story.
But you say,"My pants!
The hedge is covering my favorite pants in grass stains!"
Stop that.
This is a mistake.
Cover your pants in new and interesting stains.
Paint in them.
Spill food on them.
Comfort a dying animal,
let it bleed on them.
Do too much *******
**** yourself.
Get bored, cut them into daisy dukes.
Try wearing a skirt, a sarong, a loincloth, the wind.
Calm down,
they're just pants.
"But what if I break the hedge!
The Homeowner's Association will **** me!"
This is also a mistake.
**** the Homeowner's Association.
You did not choose the hedge.
The hedge did not choose you.
And once you're on the other side,
you won't to answer to them.
No one will find you, and
you don't have to come back.
Unless you want to.
But that is your decision.
Yours and the hedge's,
no one else.
Remember that.
"But who is dragging me through this hedge?
What kind of hedge is it?
Why is this happening to me?"
These are the wrong questions.
You are being dragged backwards to through a hedge.
That is all that matters.
Concern yourself only with what matters.
Making it through.
Landing on your feet, or
barring that, getting back up.
Seeing what's on the other side.
So you ask,"what is on the other side?
What if I hate it?
What if it's a parking lot?
What if it's all sticky?
What if everything's on fire?
What if it's just more hedges?"
Relax.
You're looking at it all wrong.
Maybe your friends are all there.
Maybe it is all sticky.
Maybe it's a combination liquor store,
ice-creamery,
minigolf course,
and you can pour whiskey on your face,
and eat Rocky Road,
and finally get a hole-in-one on that ******* windmill.?
Maybe it's the way home.
You're still looking at it wrong.
This, too, is a mistake.
You were dragged backwards through a hedge.
Dragged.
Backwards.
And you made it.
While you were worrying
you didn't notice you already made it through.
So now you're here,
on the other side.
Now it's your call.
You can do as you wish.
Watch the sunset.
Or dive into a new hedge, maybe
headfirst this time.
Or walk home.
Or make a new home.
It's your choice.
And really, who's going to stop you?
Some puny ******* bush?
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
work, and work, night and day
no sleep, no rest, no small getaway
sick, and sick, and violently ill
sick, still sick, pop a pill
dream, a dream, a beach so clear
dream, and dream, a sunbathed dear
warm, so warm, so smooth to touch
warm, so warm, so very much
sunbathed beauty, in the sand
sunbathed lover, take my hand
warm, so warm, almost too much
warm, and warm, i'm warm to touch
fever, haze, and dream awake
sick, so sick, more pills to take
drowsy, dizzy, daisy dukes
again, again, again she pukes
sleepy, sick, and a sunbathed beauty
this medicine is kind of fruity. . . .
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 2:50 AM UTC
1 "I've given up on giving up slowly."
2 "You say yes, I say no."
3 "When you're on a holiday, you can't find the words to say."
4 "I'm feeling **** and free."
5 "I can see our fingers are intertwined."
6 "Nice legs, daisy dukes..."
7 "You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war."
8 "Everybody's trying to get to me."
9 "Hey, babe, I got my eye on you."
10 "I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard"
11 "Hey, girl, you know you drive me crazy."
12 "This is the story of a girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world."
13 "In the time of the chimpanzees, I was a monkey."
14 "Honestly, why are my clothes out on the street?"
15 "Oh, well imagine, as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor....."
16 "The static comes in slow.... You can feel it grow."
17 "You promise me starry night skies..."
18 "Never win first place, I don't support the team."
19 "Tell me where our time went..."
20 "I dreamed I went missing, you were so scared."
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 10:13 PM UTC
Roddy's Rooster, man! you couldn't
oust her
Standing up there on his dunghill fair
Announcing to the whole world, to All
everywhere
My **** He's the greatest doodle doer
O! that Roddy's Rooster.
He don't need no booster, does
Roddy's Rooster
He'd even go after the goose sir
Don't you fouster with this Rooster
You'd only lose sir
Now vamoose sir.
Very dapper and quite the scrapper
Patrolling his perimeter
Strutting around the farmyard pound
Invariably, henhouse bound
If you were to meet him
It'd be "Put up your dukes sir
Me! I'm Roddy's Rooster".
With his tail feathers all fluffed up
Like a feather duster
And his chest all puffed out
Quite the Dandy and always randy
What a Suitor that Roddy's Rooster
And O! what a Wooer, that wooey
doodler.
I I
He came a cropper though one day
When he fell in the Hopper
Now he's a good deal shorter
And not half as cocky as before,
Now he sits on his wall lamenting his
fall
Thinking of the days when he used to
have a ball
Has Lady Luck that Grand Old Duck
deserted him I wonder.
Sad to see, now he's a bit gammy
More Bandy than Dandy
He still South's in the Summer
But has doubts in the Winter,
Now he likes to crow his woes and
lows away
Climbing up onto his dunghill, he
greets the day
But now in a high shrill falsetto
voice
He sings in a whole different way
" I've been round the Ringer but I'm
still quite a Dinger
**** a Doodley Doo"
Now... now he's a ****** Blues singer!
O! that Roddy's Rooster.
Roddy's Rooster Yeeaahh!
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 10:29 AM UTC
I'm not a manufactured cowboy
Don't you dare call me one
I'm just a simple man
A tattooed hellbilly from a small Illinois town
I know of loss, sorrow and woe
And I don't give a **** about tailgates or daisy dukes
Too many folks talk too much
Throwing words around, saying they're outlaws
You ain't no outlaw and that is plain as day
There's many dues that you haven't paid
Country radio all sounds the same
Not one true, blue word in anything they say
When did so many people lose their soul
Become cookie cutter, and not care anymore
I miss the sound of real guitars and fiddles being played
Not interested in the trash that's get peddled these days
I'm not turning coat, not softening my stance
I'm a real **** hellbilly, and real **** proud
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
Hey there, are you new here?
So how come we never met?
Me, I'm always late for work
No matter which alarm I set
So tell me whats your name?
I'm Heloise, sorry, you go first.
After Heloise the writer,
hey you were close, could have been worse.
I'm soaked I wasn't thinking,
we were gonna get some rain.
And in the rush to get the bus,
I dropped my fare right down the drain.
You look like you walked miles.
You must be soaked through to the skin.
I am a waitress at Dukes Diner.
You should try us, come on in.
So how come I haven't seen you,
Are we talking the same place?
Cos I'm sure I would remember,
such a handsome face.
Say what time is it you come in?
Because I get a break at two.
I could come and join you in the park,
if thats ok with you?
How about tomorrow?
Are sure that its ok?
I dont want to be too pushy,
If its not ok just say.
Ok so now I'm blushing.
Are you sure that you dont mind?
You are? I know, I'm rushing,
But it works the best I find.
Apr 28, 2010
Apr 28, 2010 at 7:07 PM UTC