Oh thou art an odd little man
Who peirced his **** in a fetish fad
A date from hell it had to be when he started acting very weird!!
Lick my shoes! Go f@@k off. You've no idea what they cost!
You want my tights ! Hang on a mo
I don't like where this is going!
Now the narcissistic little ***** has only gone and unwrapped his ****
Time to pack my bags and leave this one's
not the one for me
Tie me up and call me names! I'll call the police they do the same !!
Don't do that I beg of you
I'm scared of them you have no clue
I can't face the boys in blue
They will ridicule me far too much
Then the truth came squirting out
A ***** FIREMAN
NOW GET OUT!!!!

We risk our lives everyday
every time that we clock in,
it's our way of life and what we do
  its the way it's always been.
  
We wake at 3 am to bells ringing
and sirens blare,
we leap to our feet and go get dressed
to fight deep in Hells lair.

In the darkness we don our gear
******* helmet and boot,
as one these brothers all get up
go sliding down the chute.

We run to the truck now wide awake
and with ease we slide in,
we put on our headsets to hear each other all other noise becomes a low din.

We race to the scene where smoke is showing
no one knows who got out,
we put on our airpacks and our masks
to talk we must now shout.

With axe in hand we enter therein
the Devils home amidst the flame,
we quickly search for everyone
boy, girl, man and dame.

The air is hot we can feel it through
the clothe armor that we wear,
but on we search through the building
till we realize we're low on air.

Another​ crew goes in
In their hands the hose
To find the seat of the flames
It's advancement to oppose

We cut the roof we pull the ceiling
Our hands and feet lose all feeling

We find a child we cover them up
We rush back to the door
We bring them to safety and go back in
To check and search for more

For hours the cycle repeats
Till all is said and done
The fire is out, we've done our job
This time we won

No fire is left and all are safe
We put our tools and hose away
And go back to the station
Where hopefully we'll get to stay

Our gears been scrubbed
Time to rest our exhausted bodies

We wake at 8 am to bells ringing
and sirens blare,
we leap to our feet and go get dressed
to fight deep in Hells lair...

From where I lingered in a lull in march
outside the sugar-house one night for choice,
I called the fireman with a careful voice
And bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch:
‘O fireman, give the fire another stoke,
And send more sparks up chimney with the smoke.’
I thought a few might tangle, as they did,
Among bare maple boughs, and in the rare
Hill atmosphere not cease to glow,
And so be added to the moon up there.
The moon, though slight, was moon enough to show
On every tree a bucket with a lid,
And on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow.
The sparks made no attempt to be the moon.
They were content to figure in the trees
As Leo, Orion, and the Pleiades.
And that was what the boughs were full of soon.

This prose poem is from my collection "Poems from the Island"

Snow flurries rushed between us on the ice.
Two  black shapes without the world.
"Keep seperate!" he yelled.
The wind blew his words asunder...
Instantly, I remembered the sea heather
I'd left to dry by the fire pit.

Idle thoughts like sludge move slowly
in a frozen mind.
And the right words freeze on your tongue.

If the ice cracked, we'd hear it.
That horrible sound when Buddy was ****** down.
I wished I married a fireman.
A fireman would have saved my brother.

My old Dad was crackers living on this island
so far North. Expanding his poetry by writing
sonnets to Shakespeare and Ovid.   Taunting me
into crossing an ice plated pond to test fate.

The time was ****-eyed, too late in the season.
My father was scared. He'd been scared for a long time.
I heard the CRACK! it ripped open my head.
Suddenly, ****** back to our unborn selves. STRANDED...

No time to say, good-bye.
The black curtain on the last call falls sharply.
Those with nothing to live for invent things
to die for--so much for invention...

grandeur

had brought the well outta ground the muscled men and she came upon them when they had split into teams and were rolling it and had not yet become competitive. the hands of her gone infant came back to her to see these men heave back and forth a vanishing. of her many fathers one had said ‘the deep train went even deeper and I could not wake’. he had said it to excuse his one day feat of linking unadorned toilet paper rolls to stretch a rat’s mile. her stomach had yet to go down and she was comforted by such literal remnants as thinking of the last place you had it.

libel

two white boys come outta shack each with a wrist one left one right being ****** at the mouth. their laughing I wouldn’t say manic but still not righted. like certain bible stories seem to tumble outta that book it’s the same with their eyes and ears. their heads each one shrunk so as to be united. I want to say here at least a ****** knows what it’s mocking. I only know one of’em and only as far as this thing being passed and told that he ain’t a foster but he was born in a pan and taken from the offices of the parent company his father got laid from. you think that’s the joke but had I not said white you’d have thought they were anyway. here come two girls grisly with month and I never seen two boys so quick to put down the shack they come from.

prayer

I like it best when my girl is pregnant because I get the sympathies. on her hand, she likes me drunk. at any one time, I can remember seven of our eight kids. this means of course one gets left home but also that not a one gets left grocery. I’d tell you their names but then I’d have to split this saying into parts. but I can tell you seven are boys. now and again they’ll slip on sister’s dress to **** up my math. a good joke I start with is that they take after their mother and if they take after me it’s with sticks. I change the batteries in the alarms for fire and carbon monoxide every two weeks mostly outta fear that I’ll lose them all and have to recount them to some fireman I went to school with. I don’t know if batteries are cheap or not, I don’t know anything about them, but I know I spend a healthy chunk of my portion to have. wife and I are keeping the ninth at bay the ways we know how. she don’t ask me and I don’t her. one kid a week goes with her to church and it’s up to me to remember who in my charge caught a fish the week previous. but I’m not wrong with god; no book is the bible, I believe that. at cemetery by which I am lack whelmed: I wish I had his memory.

nativity

wonder they ever told him grown, that black foster, how he'd been at three years dropped manger while crying for the congregates. straw in everything. back a throat, bottom a shoe. pop said he just about caught himself afire at work, straw sticking out his pocket. pop unable to split work clothes from churched. some wanted to resurrect a fuss about color; don’t go resurrecting a fuss and waved his hand he did that pastor ingénue. heard then I the word negress and after its saying the sayers looked about as if she would appear. this was our town after god and many were still making their own. this answers how the black foster needn’t audition. the gold I brought was soft on my thumbs and the flakes stayed in my nails weeks after. pop could tell for that time what I’d been touching so I’d cover when I could. we were quite a pair in our fooleries what with his straw and my gold. he stopped going on about the blacks and I was able to skip school with your sister the ****** mary. the town was never up for nightmares or for dreaming so I kept your share to myself until now how you seen mary fingered by a man with seven. heard him saying it's okay baby, this one's asleep.

holy ghost!

I will cut myself, Horror Film. will fidget my nethers a last time. maybe make the snow an angel with a third leg. which means I have gone outside. maybe my father will happen by you and put his beers together. but I will be gone. into the woods dragging my feet so some will think it took two to take me. I will whip branches about me and generally scuffle so the some will better convince the left. my poverty will be confirmed by your presence on videocassette. my father will hold you aloft and your tongue will droop above the depths of his hair. my father will claim a vengeance he owes on and the some and the left will follow him over the states of my angel and into the woods. when they find me I will say I had an in body experience; that the two men nearby sleep and it’s what we’re walking in.

haptics

little he knows that in holding them hoppers until they spit and before they go wing he is making hitch the upcome carriage of his *****. his future nudes are backtracking and the gravity of this has been diagnosed as your emphysema. he is your, nothing more, son. he will rub your back and worry his thumbs orphan. oh thumb; toe six. the way you deeply stand arms folded he sometimes thinks you have been replaced by a statue of his mother. it is then he remembers the fence his father built and the collective plank his father carried under his arm. you want life to be good again; your son’s low hand and the pups it could feed.

verbal abuse*

she has brought with her a shoplifted teddy bear. on a good night her age is seventeen. two days ago the voices in her head moved to her mouth. she has seven teeth that remain quiet. she fears so much how this third day will go. she has been told, and she believes, I am only in her mind. but there she is, at the sitting rock where we met, the rock I told her I could see things in. unprepared for her faith, I am unclothed. I am glad she has the bear and glad for my part in her having it.

spiders

we got some kind of plague in our toilets mama.*  that’s my dad calling her mama, my mom. that’s him declaring another plague. week don’t stop until a plague has been pieced together by this man so named Paff Snull on the subscription stubs of any number of unread magazines mom uses to swat dramatically at imaginary flies and wasps and locusts depending on the week. this time though I’m ******* because when dad cracks his knees and ***** himself to fetch mama from silence, I look in the toilet up and it’s true and in the toilet down and it’s more. spiders grey and black and off white. with our low water pressure, spiders having a ball. mom and dad they get tents and tell me twice to get inside mine once it’s on the front lawn. I get told things twice because I was born thick and I haven’t the heart to tell them that after the first saying the saying of it is diminished. I mumble to myself in corners, sure, but it’s the same mumbling. our dog gets a separate tent and I sneak into it when dog allows. seven nights so far outta three weeks I haven’t. mom says it’s because of my acne dog don’t recognize me sometimes. ******* bit the meatsy of my right hand a month ago and my handwriting got so neat I was sent from school for cheating. it’s most of my summer and the house is still spidery. the dog has gone to the river to drink and seems okay with it. mom, dad, and I **** in the backyard in shifts. mom ain’t swatting anything, she doesn’t have to on account of the spiders. when right now I mess up my shift I find myself next to dad and he’s just some guy telling me them glass-full people got the joke on them because the water is contaminated. he’s so happy it makes me think I’m the devil to be grinning so big. long wasn’t the reign of Paff Snull.

there was a little rabbit and he just longed to be
a fire engine  driver a fireman was he
putting out the fires with a fire hose
and his little mask hanging from his nose
going in to buildings that were all a blaze
with his great big torch shining through the haze
climbing up the ladder right up to the top
spraying lots of water till the flames did stop
setting people free from the burning mess
taking them to safety while they were in distress
this is what he longed and he hoped to be
a servant of the public a fireman was he

One life by flames a Hero made

This just became a lot harder by its very nature I must cloak one identity shine all the light I can on the
Other harder because I was just reminded people find my writing hard to understand brothers at church
Out home can you be more simple use smaller words I could be stupid I’m a high school dropout I don’t
Know any big words well I did use imbecile in the seventh grade that was cool and got a reaction this
Started to be a tribute to a person who was rare although you can surely see glimpses of your dad
Brother or other male members of your family as I said to write you must follow truth strictly no
Deviation but before I could pay and honor the visible one another comes into view from the past with
This twist then he was the dark kight now he is a knight in shining armor the dark knight have him on
The Cross bar of a bicycle both of you have swimming trunks on you pass some tuffs with extra powerful
BB guns while your body shields him he lets off a litany of sailor inspired words directed at them they
Don’t return insults they open fire I have welts and his mother picks three B Bees out of my back did he
Feel any pain he was too busy laughing that was just one time not enough room here to give you the run
Down let’s just say as the only identifier he was a short racer came in first braver than the others but I
saw him in a class picture there is the strange part it touched my heart and then speaking to him on the
Phone my feelings were correct he is a great wonderful person then the stranger yet he so embodies by
Appearance and voice of the one I choose to honor here Stevie Rucker was about eleven that summer I
Met him his mother went to my wife’s church he was bright kind and melted people with his soft and
loving nature quite a contrast to his father a six foot four hard nose FFA inspector we were out at a
Restaurant in the city a foursome in the next room with a booth were using foul language I don’t know
The dim lighting could have been a factor but when this giant shadow fell on them and asks them to stop I
Don’t think they even talked loud after that. But this sweet little boy harbored a dream one day he was
Going to be a fire fighter then as dreams go it was shattered bad eye sight disqualified it was a dream
Worth fighting for so he took action a risky costly eye operation was the answer victory he moved to
Patoka California by now a wife and two toddlers a boy and a girl three boy five they lived in the foot
Hills of the Sierra Nevada mountain range ever where you were in great growth forest of course the
Red Woods get all the glory but take a stroll red clay earth and some of the most gorgeous nature you
Will ever find although the Great Smoky Mountains will give it a run for the money in a later story I will
Tell about them and the gnome mobile and the huge boar black bear that I thought I was going to have
To run to the car pull out my thirty thirty Winchester and start working the lever action to save seventy
Five tourists I put in Jeopardy by getting him out of a deep gully. Well life was good for Steve and his
Family he was living his dream our paths would intersect we stopped at Paso to break the trip in half to
Southern C and Disney land were heard about the fire in Dego it was bad enough that the whole LA
Basin was fogged in for two days the Santa Anna winds finally pushed it out to sea and up the coast I hit
It on the other side of San Louis Obisable in a gorge it was banked in and because of youthful lucky strikes and
Later sleep apnea I couldn’t breathe in the car until I hit the air conditioner well by the time we got
Home to check in at the hotel it was clear home is what Anaheim means in German then there was that
USA Today News paper again I looked and a face was staring at me older and thicker heavey set but I knew the face and then at
The bottom of the picture emotional train wreck a child so giving now as a man had given his life for
Strangers five to six hundred miles south from his home he died trying to save their homes he joined
Many others but these were fresh in my mind the folks who died in the fire storm in Oakland from the
Conflagration that took lives and homes and four lane highways on both sides couldn’t slow it down and
You have as much chance as out running a bullet as you do a fire as twenty five Idaho smoke jumpers
Found out they were racing out of a gorge scrambling to get over the top this natural configuration had
Become a chimney of living flame thirteen died instantly those others rolled over and away on flat
Ground at the top was spared. What could I do I wrapped myself in the only protection I could find he
Died a hero that kept the pain at bay how many times I invoked that statement it worked so well until at
The community center in Patoka where they honored Steve’s sacrifice it was televised Governor Arnold
Schwarzenegger and other state dignitaries his fire house buddies and other fireman from everywhere
Was there and then they panned down to his mother and father his father wasn’t so large anymore and
It was the last time I could use my shield as I looked and watched Pat weeping Uncontrollably over her
Lost son I thought you would like to know of this wonderful person I will close with a thank you in the
Language of the Lakota Sioux as his service had part of it in the native language of his tribe Pilamaya means thank you
Steve you are an inspiration we bow to greatness beyond our understanding

Staring at the deep blue sky
Often I make a false attempt
To find her face behind
The dark black clouds

I extend my weak hands
To grab those dreams
Which hav pasted
Over those small patches
Since decades over decades
But get only gush of hot air in return
Which passes over my head

Limping beneath the sands of night
Often I make a false attempt
To live that sweetest moment
Once more............

I lit the candle of adoration
To eradicate the darkness of hate
Which hav diffused
In the air of love
Since when I never know
But only to get professional fireman
To extinguish it mercilessly
Appointed specifically by fate

Stripping the shifts of night
Often I make a false attempt
To cover my face with pillow
But in vain I gather it by palm
I land myself on the desert of patience
To wait fr her comeback
Which will never happen though
Still I believe
She will come atleast once
To Compensate the past
Which she skipped once

Still I plunge myself
In those dark shades of night
To stain my sleep
With her existance
Which meant world to me
In past,now and will be till eternity............

My hearts made of tinder
And every word you speak
Is another match ignited
Every empty glance you give me
Produces sparks
I'm highly flammable
Please stop trying to burn me to ashes

Mystical Fire

God is fire holy without equal then you have glory boy that burns with every despicable evil in his favor
Our make up by fallen nature is in the same area and has a willing bent that favors signals that come
From Satan so the need that came about through the cross for the great alignment it works only when
You are truly engaged indentified by actual action of dying to that enemy of your own self then you find
What I will try to convey in this piece giving you the two pictures of this glorious burning then the awful
Burning only hell can stoke and purposely mix among the tender of ready to burn substance found in human nature

A wonderful place to draw this contrast is Los Angeles called the city of angels but the most beautiful is
Its Spanish interoperation Low hovering angels this loses if we say it but let a Mexican say it with his
Inflection most perfect if he is saying it from love. Is there a seriousness here our blessing is not being in
That crucible even New York is called the big apple but those in the know call it the volcano with all its
Eruptions and pressures so does L A fall into this category in fact if you live on Pico Ave it’s a category
Five tornado this is one of the most fought out streets in the turf war for space to sell the Bain to all
Society drugs see the flame it consumes the guilty and the innocent view this common occurrence way
To common how many small neighborhood chapels were filling with caskets instead of wedding
Ceremonies look and listen a Mac Ten pistol grease gun thirty round capacity it has just started its
Deadly chatter laying down a withering fire this isn’t battle ground conditions this is a neighborhood
Strafing a car the widow’s blow out the shooter keeps the fire steady it starts plinking metal as it moves
To the front of the car off the car into a white small picked fence wood matching the spray of bullets as
It Flys in all directions Chicago revisited instead of the Tommy gun chopper of probation you got a
Crazed dope fiend punk without emotions the sight of fourteen year old Maria standing on the side walk
Never registered or didn’t matter three red dots appeared on her bright blouse across her back the
Center spot stopped her heart forever now these precious Spanish eyes closed never to see her rightful
Future instead of one day walking the Church isle in a wedding gown now she would lie in repose in
White with the flowers not in a bouquet but neatly fixed in her hair. So robbed of youth and life her
Budding life so filled with promise where angels hover no more demons work overtime however evil is
Carried and delivered believe me they have it more together than the sleeping church self satisfied the
God of mercy and love restricts himself to mans efforts the Devil endlessly prowls about seeking who he
May devour

In the Christian life death is the pivotal point only through this experience can success be found this is
Dumbfounding to our fallen nature I want to show through the natural death of two precious teens it
Seems a stretch but you can disagree but you didn’t see what I saw I don’t desire to take you on a
Journey that disappoints you but just listen to my accounting I didn’t ask to see this scene it was shoved
In front of me by an L A fireman his story deserves telling at a later time the picture to me it seems God
Himself finally said enough is enough the killing of Maria and others have occurred hundreds of times
These teens died and then fire consumed their natural bodies but an intervention the light of heaven
Had to bathe them and in that light fine particles of gold had to enter our world forming this thinnest
Sheen enveloping them in a golden cocoon their spirits ushered into the father’s presence their bodies
Would not be marred disfigured no they would pass from clay to immortal gold comparable to king tut I
Viewed both subjects through the record afforded by photography these two youthful companions in
Life now side by side they are cast in breathless beauty to me one instance of death being over ruled the
Promise given for future times in this case the promise inserted in real time that will be common in the
Heavenly tomorrows the beauty of God had to have a hand in what I saw those precious children went
Beyond the earthly outcome were transformed they had the shinning of a vision that one day will be our
Common experience glorified bodies are the language God who cannot lie says will be everyone’s
reality.

"Boy toy
or girl
toy! Don't
make me tell
you again, Pedro!"

I have committed a felony
within the land of the Golden Arches.

I have gone through
another patient's order
and forgotten which gender
to assign to the child
standing right next to them,
as if in need of another
fresh new coat in
traditional roleplay,
as if these little ones
were the cattle of tradition.

How foolish of me to assume
that the tiny calf in pigtails
would enjoy the strong-willed,
goal-setting, leadership-evoking
action figure instead of the sanitized,
goal-admonishing, vapidity-provoking
fashion doll.

I wouldn't want to lose
another valuable customer.

i am leading an undefined life
on a kite string
full of fake faces, staged greetings,
and smiles
that don't quite extend to the eyes.

it is as full as a predated diary kept until now.

my childhood went missing in rose gardens
and the space between
the goals.

i had a chalkboard that wouldn't erase.

i have read between the lines of love notes
i have read emotion in only seven letters
i have read passion in fourteen keys

i thought i was untouchable
              ...and i was...
                         but not unwillingly.

i got caught writing nursery rhymes
on my desk
           in the middle of an exam.

and now, at eighteen, i have seen
the carriage stop, and slowly drive away.

i have heard the beauty
in john cage's
four minutes and thirty-three seconds.

i don't know why, but i have chopin's
nocturne in E-flat major
stuck in my head.

i hate not being able to say the right words
          when i need them
instead of when
                i find them.

i love the woven metal
embracing my finger;
       that makes us almost sisters.

i've lost a heavy golden crucifix
     with an anchor as its back,
and a tiny bundle that tore me up inside.

i'm looking for a fireman
named greg
just to see how he's doing
since 1997.

i wish that everything i wrote would become truth,
    because then
          i could make people come back.

and my heart is strong.

Ten minutes now I have been looking at this.
I have gone by here before and wondered about it.
This is a bronze memorial of a famous general
Riding horseback with a flag and a sword and a revolver
     on him.
I want to smash the whole thing into a pile of junk to be
     hauled away to the scrap yard.
I put it straight to you,
After the farmer, the miner, the shop man, the factory
     hand, the fireman and the teamster,
Have all been remembered with bronze memorials,
Shaping them on the job of getting all of us
Something to eat and something to wear,
When they stack a few silhouettes
          Against the sky
          Here in the park,
And show the real huskies that are doing the work of
     the world, and feeding people instead of butchering them,
Then maybe I will stand here
And look easy at this general of the army holding a flag
     in the air,
And riding like hell on horseback
Ready to **** anybody that gets in his way,
Ready to run the red blood and slush the bowels of men
     all over the sweet new grass of the prairie.

For years she lived
in a quiet hell
that nobody knew
she lost herself
withdrew because
she was made to feel
that she was nothing
there were affairs
and lies and empty promises
often times she'd cry
herself to sleep
because she only wanted
to be free
of all the darkness
and the emptiness
so she stayed for too long
until there was little left
but a shell of who
she once was
it progressively
got worse
each and every day
until she knew
this life wasn't meant for her
and that she was so much more
than what she had accepted
the deceit, the hurt
the feeling of entrapment
and abuse, over and over
she carried such a heavy shame
underneath a pretty smile
until the weight of it all
felt like it would crush her
until one day
one fateful day
it was enough
it was finally enough
and the fireman came
but they never saw her
holding the matches....

We come before you Almighty God,
Policeman, Fireman and EMT
to say a prayer before we go
Our ways to each his own Duty

Together now we've come to pray
In case we forget to
During our busy day

The Policeman steps forth,
“Dear God above
Keep us save
and also those we love.

We pray for your unending favor
that we never need use
the rounds we chamber

Our Vests that we wear
for our own protection
please keep 'em bullet proof
and our safety never question”

The Fireman steps up, and then takes a knee
“Dear God above I need you now
I know you're always watching me

In the Fires of our Hell
or on the highway to there
Please keep us from hurt
and not singe a single hair

Give us the strength to lift a wall
or tenderness to pick up a tiny child
give us peace when others are losing it
and peace if the scene starts getting wild”

The EMT takes his stand
“God I guess it's my turn
Not really safety out there
or the protection from a burn

But rather Lord I need your help
let me make the right decision
on every patient that I care for
Their lives in my hands I've been given”

Then all Three stand together
with their heads all bowed low
Dear God above, to all of us
please your mercy would you endow

Keep us safe and bring us home
to our wives and our children
And each time a truck roles out
let it come back safely to it's building

her warm eyes of
wonder and kind skin
kindle
a crackling aortic inferno
further fed
by a voice that feels
like water going down
but like a fireman
from Fahrenheit 451
sets my words aflame
with kerosine kisses
I can't and
I won't try
to ever tell you
what this is exactly
because we never really know
where we're growing
but this is different
this is painless
and it tastes like
nothing my tongue
has ever known
and it takes me to places
I've never been

I hadn't realized
just how parched I was
until she filled up my cup
as she poured out her heart
and I drank it down

You look back at a life of forgotten dreams and empty promises.
You wanted to be a doctor, a fireman, an astronaut, and an artist.
All at the same time.

You wanted to fall in love with Prince Charming,
Handsome, intelligent, strong, courageous, loyal.
Perfect in every way.

You wanted to have four beautiful children,
Two girls, two boys, obedient and kind, who love you,
As much as you love them.

Instead, you wait tables for meager tips,
You divorced your husband,
And your children hate you.

You cry for dreams you never worked for.
You cry for a man you didn't deserve.
You cry for children you didn't love.

Life will never be what you want it to be.
Get over it.

Gone unto Heaven

Unto the Heavens she hath gone
Leaving me with an only bun
My mother has passed away
So got no more time to work on clay
With her death, time recalled all hert past
While I sailed alone in a boat with one mast
I remembered all what she didwithout a fee
And how much she eagerly wished to see me
Her words are still alive in my mind
A lady like her is so hard to find
So mother rest in peace
We all miss you even my niece

Sam Burton


Today is Friday, Oct. 3, the 275th day of 2014 with 90 to follow.

The moon is waning. Morning stars are Jupiter, Mars and Uranus. Evening stars are Mercury, Neptune, Saturn and Venus.f



In 1950, the Peanuts comic strip by Charles M. Schulz was published for the first time.

In 1959, The Twilight Zone, with host Rod Serling, premiered on U.S. television.

In 1967, Thurgood Marshall was sworn in as the first African-American justice of the U.S. Supreme Court.



A thought for the day:



The upward course of a nation's history is due in the long run to the soundness of heart of its average men and women. -- Queen Elizabeth II





Quotes for the day:



A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere.

------------------------

A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five.

------------------------

A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running.



J. Marx





Every instance of heartbreak can teach us powerful lessons about creating the kind of love we really want.

Martha Beck





"With the exception of women, there is nothing on earth so agreeable or necessary to the comfort of man as the dog."



Edward Jesse



"Efforts and courage are not enough without purpose and direction."



John F. Kennedy



"All you need is the plan, the road map, and the courage to press on to your destination."



Earl Nightingale





Poetry


PLAYBACK



Lauren Camp



Let there be footfall and car door. Let me
be finished with fire. Let
the man get on a plane for his morning
departure, erasing each reverie. Soon
there will be only daylight,
maybe a blue envelope, torn. Maybe bracelets
of color from the petunias. I will need
to know how to recover
the familiar, how to open the door
in the evening. How to again lock it.
Almost everything about me goes unspoken,
but commas and colons. I live with this
heart rate, multiple times, its direction,
its tempo: my 4/4 with acceleration, sometimes
tuned to an alternate signature. Think of Brubeck's
"Take Five." Those blocky chords were the result
of an accident-dead on arrival, they said,
after he smashed to the surf. Think how
he switched it around, made his hands
do what he wanted to hear, and forgive me
for the analogy. May I never
rush a surge for a better experience.
Every Sunday all over the country,
apologies gather. When I'm not in this
small cottage, unreacting, I cascade sound
and a few sentences from a cramped
room to whoever will listen. I know some
people think it is sinful to love such temptations,
but I stay with my face soft against
microphone, announcing my moral
directions. Sometimes, I'm convinced my blood
needs all those crossings. I'm not after
absolution. The man I love taught me to want
without lyrics. Remember I haven't
gone anywhere. I'm in a thirsty way
sort of possessive. I shouldn't show you this
side of myself. Try to remember I'm also praised
for my kindness. We each need to learn
to turn off some dreams so we can play
hours without creases.


About this poem


"Sometimes my poems are clearly focused on a single topic, but more and more they seem to need to be about many things because that's how I experience the w orld-so much going on all the time. Given the chance, I'll always try to make c onnections-in this case between jazz, love, humanity and potential error."
-Lauren Camp

About Lauren Camp


Lauren Camp is the author of "The Dailiness" (Edwin E. Smith Publishing, 2 013). She hosts "Audio Saucepan," a global music/poetry program on Santa Fe Public R adio, and lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

*
The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience.


(c) 2014 Lauren Camp.
Distributed by King Features Syndicate




Health and Beauty Tip



No matter what kind of ****** cleanser you use, check what kind of water you have access to. Hard water can be just as detrimental to skin as plain soap, and can dry it out.



JOKES



Toddler Property Laws



1. If I like it, it's mine.

2. If it's in my hand, it's mine.

3. If I can take it from you, it's mine.

4. If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.

5. If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.

6. If I'm doing or building something, all the pieces are mine.

7. If it looks just like mine, it's mine.

8. If I think it's mine, it's mine.

9. If I... Oops! I'm sorry, I goofed! Instead of typing in the Toddler Property Laws, I've been typing in Bill Gates' primary business plan.





Phone Call



A young boy answers the phone.

A man says, "Hello is your dad around?"

The boy whispers, "Yes."

The man then asks if he can talk to him.

"He's busy at the moment," the boy whispers.

"Then is your mom there?"

"Yes" the boy whispers.

"Can I talk to her?"

"No, she's busy," the boy whispers.

"Is there anyone else there?"

"Yes" whispered the boy.

"Who?" the man asked.

"A policeman," came the whispered reply.

"Well, can I talk to him?"

"He's busy too," the boy whispered.

"Is there anyone else there then?"

"Yes" whispered the boy.

"Who then?" the man asked.

"A fireman," the boy whispered.

"Can I talk to him?"

"No," the boy whispered, "he's busy."

Annoyed, the man asked what they were all doing.

"Looking for me." the boy whispered.





Hard Working?



A business owner decides to take a tour around his business and see how things are going. He goes down to the shipping docks and sees a young man leaning against the wall doing nothing.

The owner walks up to the young man and says, "Son, how much do you make a day?"

The guy replies, "150 dollars."

The owner pulls out his wallet, gives him $150, and tells him to get out and never come back.

A few minutes later the shipping clerk says to the boss, "Have you seen that UPS driver? I left him standing around here?"



Presidential Quotes



"If Lincoln were alive today he'd roll over in his grave." --Gerald Ford (president, 1974-77)

---

"A friend of mine was asked to a costume ball a while ago. He slapped some egg on his face and went as a liberal economist." --Ronald Reagan

---

"I want to make sure everybody who has a job wants a job." --George Bush





Football and Confession



Years ago, the chaplain of the football team at Notre Dame was a beloved old Irish priest.

At confession one day, a football player told the priest that he had acted in an unsportsmanlike manner at a recent football game. "I lost my temper and said some bad words to one of my opponents." "Ahhh, that's a terrible thing for a Notre Dame lad to be doin'," the priest said. He took a piece of chalk and drew a mark across the sleeve of his coat.

"That's not all, Father. I got mad and punched one of my opponents."

"Saints preserve us!" the priest said, making another chalk mark.

"There's more. As I got out of a pileup, I kicked two of the other team's players in the . . . in a sensitive area."

"Oh, goodness me!" the priest wailed, making two more chalk marks on his sleeve. "Who in the world were we playin' when you did these awful things?"

"Southern Methodist."

"Ah, well," said the priest, wiping his sleeve, "boys will be boys."




Have a super nice Friday and a very dazzling weekend!

******

god the claustrophobe



clean

as rainclouds
pause
beneath
the disoriented
heaven
of our
beloved
thinking woman’s
fireman
a cat
grooms itself
in the manner
we’ve been
to vanish



object permanence**

rabbit
named
vertigo

I wanted to be

I wanted to be a cowboy, rassle cows to the ground,
I wanted to be a pilot, fly those airships all around

I wanted to be a star, hit the ***** so very far,
I wanted to be a driver, burning rubber in my car

I wanted to be a doctor, save the lives of those in need,
I wanted to be a lawyer, when I was thinking gr eed

I wanted to be the mayor, take my city to the top,
I wanted to be an actor, hope I don't appear in a flop

I wanted to be a fireman, save the children from the fires,
I wanted to be a copper, catch the robbers, cheats and liars

I wanted to be a priest, help the sinners save they're souls,
I wanted to be a lover, playing the lead man roles,

I wanted to be a father, raise my children to be proud,
I wanted to be a weather guy, explaining the evening cloud

I wanted to be scientist, discover new things in this life,
I wanted to be a husband, have me a pretty wife

I wanted to be a builder, bridges, and buildings reaching high,
I wanted to be a  analyst, wondering why people cry

I wanted to be a soldier, keeping my country from harm,
I wanted to be a human, helping my fellow man stay warm

Gomer LePoet...

The after life part 9


Today Cronus was even more busier than ever sending people to their next lives and his latest person was 14 year old beryl stone with her two sisters Harriet and sienna who were on their way to get ice cream when a drunk driver came out of nowhere and hit them and killed all 3 of them together and Cronus said beryl, Harriet and sienna, who do you want to be in your next life, do you want to be together or seperate and you will lose everything in your next life and sienna said I want to be with beryl and Harriet but if it can’t be done we want to be together as best friends and Cronus said ok, is there anywhere you will want to go in the world and Harriet said, not in Australia, that’s for sure because people say it is the lucky country but we weren’t lucky in that car, I like to go to the USA, where we could have anything we want, and beryl and sienna said yes, USA for us but beryl said in different families because I want to meet one of them and marry them and Cronus said well I can’t guarantee that but that is something you must work towards doing and sienna said, what is going to happen to the crazy drunk driver and Cronus said well I can’t do much there but I will guarantee he will get what is coming to him and then Cronus sent beryl and Harriet and sienna to Athena for a soul check and after that they went to Saturn for a methane ice cream spider and then travelled around the universe hoping they can have a forfilled life and then Cronus saw famous horse trainer Tom Barclay and said who do you want to be in your next life and Tom said I want to be a racehorse so I could win races and be cared for by the next generation of little girls and boys and make my jockey win a lot of races and my fans win a lot of money and Cronus said yes but we are supposed to mend each blade of grass by helping people, you seem to encourage gambling and Tom said yes, I know but it was hard to be a human, especially after I got sick and had to get away from the horses and if I was a horse I will be around horses all the time, and I can mend heaps of blades of grass that way, I won’t live as long as a horse, maybe I will want to be another person after that and Cronus said, what could you offer people as a horse, I could ride children and adults around and I could keep horses from not going extinct and Cronus said that is mending blades of grass so he sent him to Athena for a soul check and Tom went to Saturn to ride dinosaurs high on methane and then Cronus had Kenny Harrison who was a volunteer fireman who died tackling the south coast fires and Cronus said what do you want to be in your next life and Kenny said I want to make a difference in people’s lives by helping people to rebuild their lives from natural disasters and Cronus said yes but I can’t give you much there except give you the helping people spirit abs put you in a family who wants to make a difference as well, so you could learn when your next life becomes an adult and Kenny said ok I will hopefully won’t get bullied into helping people by them though, I want to make a difference in what my calling is, and Cronus said ok no worries and sent him to Athena for a soul check and then to Buddha to get a helping people spirit and then Kenny went to Jupiter to help stop evil spirits from causing hurricanes and Cronus said it is great that he wants to mend each blade of grass

When I am all grown up
There's lots that I can be
A million different choices
And the choice is up to me

I can be a fireman
And drive a truck all painted red
I can work inside a kitchen
And make sure that folks get fed

I can be a sailor
And sail from sea to sea
I have a million different choices
And the choice is up to me

I can be a teacher,
and teach children to write
Or I can be a singer
And sing on stage each night

A footballer, a builder
or a worker in a zoo
It's up to me exactly what
job that I will do

A dancer, or a dentist
A scientist or vet
It's up to me and no one else
What kind of job I'll get

A painter, or an acrobat
A lifeguard on the beach
I can be an astronaut
And to the stars I'll reach

I can be most anything
There's lot's that I can be
There's so much for me out there
The choice is up to me

I can drive a race car
Let my imagination soar
This is just a short list
There's a million, million more

I can be most anything
There's a lot out there for me
For I am just beginning
And there's lots that I can be

An astronaut, a soldier

it showed
an utter disdain
for the conventions
of such an event
that they would
not toe the line
like the others
they proffered
none of the standard
shoulder-dipping
sidestepped shuffles
nor the exuberant
failing of arms
that have come
to be expected
of "good" dancers
those overused staples
that accompany such
predictable song choices
outdated and enjoyed
only ironically
this dance could not
faithfully manifest
their truth

they danced
not for that unnoticed
peripheral audience
but solely
to tell a story
to one another
instead they chased
cavorted and capered
with piggybacks
and fireman's lifts
arms-spread spinning
they became fireworks
their bodies
exploding apart
pulled together
breathlessly
slipping
   and stumbling
without a care
leaping shoelessly
from place to place
from song to song
ending always
in each other's arms

The prehensile snout of a Tapir
is  posturally renowned,
but  I am no caricaturist
unless I required Rhinoplasty
Neither am I an
Air Force Major or a Fireman,
never having shot or doused in anger
never clanged quid pro quo,
I am a wordsmith, without  a necessarily  dangerous  course,
a wedgeless door stop this side of juxtaposition,
trying for a profile,
riding on a buzz,
to think so few images
could  conjure so much verdure

You are a study in

contradiction,

(Filofax looks and

roller coaster smile.)



You've patience short

as a fireman's hosepipe,

eyes that you

narrow like the Nile.



You walk like you're dancing

at the Pope's wedding;

talk like you haven't

got the time to stop.



You're always grinning

when it's raining

(down from the bottom

and up from the top).



You mock like a bat

but you're scared of darkness-

scared of losing

your own two feet.



Your misplaced faith

In your own self-loathing

lurks in the sun

taking pride in defeat.

The fireman there dressed in black
With a helmet hiding his shame
They've hidden their words from ageless sages
But he can smell their decaying pages

Spilled ink is old and unimportant they say
It's contagious pages are flammable
For one second he reads the ancient script
Mesmerized by ghosts from the crypt

He collects the books to earn his paycheck
Weeps silently behind his mask of lost humanity
Building a fire with his blowtorch
He's sickened by praise from his cohorts

He hangs his head in his pitifully gray home
and remembered his grandfather's Holy Bible
The hidden truth between the ancient lines
Truth that hangs from a broken spine

The talking faces from an electronic scroll
Hanging from the plastered wall
Repeats lies between razor blades
Invading lies buried within its rays

He keeps an eye on the glowing eye
That surveys his every move
The dark faceless ****** creeps into his life
Even as he sleeps beside his wife

He closes his eyes in search of his Creator
But He's hiding or busy or dead
There must be others who search like me
Who are praying for serenity

The Blast of wood and glass
Erupts Like Blooms of Flame
The First responders Arrive
Purely for the Clean up and Blame

It Came from the Kitchen
Investigators search debris
Hot ash and Smoke hover
Embers glow and Flare over

A woman rushes up
Begging a Fireman
Please tell me...
Did my mother Live?

There were no survivors
I am Sorry to say
She began Crying away
Sobbing Through tears to say

Mother Texted me today**
Cancer... they say
I just want one last cigarette
Before I go Away..........

All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack