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"fixin" poems
Look what the cat done drug in Slow on down... darlin’! Hol’ yo horses! Don’t go get’n a conniption fit Or get’n your knickers in a knot! Hush up Or’n I’m a goin **** a knot in yo tail! I’m busy as a one legged cat in a sandbox,   but I’m fixin tell what we got here at JuJu’s Now lookie here... we got crawfish mild spicy crawfish medium spicy crawfish spicy spicy we got crawfish with corn crawfish with sausage crawfish with potatoes we got crawfish with red sauce crawfish with pink sauce crawfish with melted butter If y’all a bit dry... we got crawfish with canned soda crawfish with bottled water crawfish with beer crawfish with BYOB Or we gots jus’ crawfish Go on an pick how yo’ want yo’ crawfish spiced, then go on an decide what yo’ wanna add!  I reckon we gots dang near 362,888 ways to eat these here mudbugs You might could get spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage spicy spicy crawfish with corn spicy spicy crawfish with potatoes spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage and corn spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage and potatoes spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage, corn and potatoes spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage and beer spicy spicy crawfish with corn and beer spicy spicy crawfish with potatoes and beer spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage, corn, potatoes and beer I could go on... till I’m plum tuckered out... but... Got it?  You good?? You want mushrooms Well, I’ll be Don’t go axin... what we ain’t got No siree bob, no mushrooms We also ain’t got tea, sweet or unsweet But sweet’s the only way to have tea sweetie If you want soda, you can get Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Dr Pepper Diet Dr Pepper, Hawaiian Punch, Brisk Tea Or Root Beer We also got shrimp... just boiled We also got gloves... half a dollar Well, I’m worn slap out! Watcha have a hankerin for?    Take your own sweet time!   Sit a spell You’ll soon be full as a tick on a big dog! Happy as a dead pig in sunshine! You’ll wanna slap yer mama! Can’t decide hon? I do declare! Aren’t you precious? (now... he startin get on my last nerve) Still...can’t make up your mind? Well... I can’t do it fer ya! (bout aggravatin as a rock) You picky?   (Lawd have mercy!) Bless your heart!   ©  2019 Jim Davis
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Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 11:41 PM UTC
JuJu’s Crawfish Shak
Look what the cat done drug in Slow on down... darlin’! Hol’ yo horses! Don’t go get’n a conniption fit Or get’n your knickers in a knot! Hush up Or’n I’m a goin **** a knot in yo tail! I’m busy as a one legged cat in a sandbox,   but I’m fixin tell what we got here at JuJu’s Now lookie here... we got crawfish mild spicy crawfish medium spicy crawfish spicy spicy we got crawfish with corn crawfish with sausage crawfish with potatoes we got crawfish with red sauce crawfish with pink sauce crawfish with melted butter If y’all a bit dry... we got crawfish with canned soda crawfish with bottled water crawfish with beer crawfish with BYOB Or we gots jus’ crawfish Go on an pick how yo’ want yo’ crawfish spiced, then go on an decide what yo’ wanna add!  I reckon we gots dang near 362,888 ways to eat these here mudbugs You might could get spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage spicy spicy crawfish with corn spicy spicy crawfish with potatoes spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage and corn spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage and potatoes spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage, corn and potatoes spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage and beer spicy spicy crawfish with corn and beer spicy spicy crawfish with potatoes and beer spicy spicy crawfish with Zummo’s sausage, corn, potatoes and beer I could go on... till I’m plum tuckered out... but... Got it?  You good?? You want mushrooms Well, I’ll be Don’t go axin... what we ain’t got No siree bob, no mushrooms We also ain’t got tea, sweet or unsweet But sweet’s the only way to have tea sweetie If you want soda, you can get Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Dr Pepper Diet Dr Pepper, Hawaiian Punch, Brisk Tea Or Root Beer We also got shrimp... just boiled We also got gloves... half a dollar Well, I’m worn slap out! Watcha have a hankerin for?    Take your own sweet time!   Sit a spell You’ll soon be full as a tick on a big dog! Happy as a dead pig in sunshine! You’ll wanna slap yer mama! Can’t decide hon? I do declare! Aren’t you precious? (now... he startin get on my last nerve) Still...can’t make up your mind? Well... I can’t do it fer ya! (bout aggravatin as a rock) You picky?   (Lawd have mercy!) Bless your heart!   ©  2019 Jim Davis
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82
The Oppression of my people can not be summed up in one word A word that flies Flies like a hummingbird He eats soup As I cry he prays As I sigh You Do not KNOW ME You only know my struggle How Dare You come to me? In your time of Need. You need a fixin? God Bless Juan Dixon.
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Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
The Glass Ceiling of Opression
If ya fixin' to start the party in a hurry it's ******* before alcohol! If ya fixin' to stop the party in a hurry it's ******* after alcohol!
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Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Remember, kids! [PSA]
I Blink 182 times, Can I Handle This This is the Sum of 41 reasons I won't smile this holiday I'm feeling like I may Fall Out, Boy do I hate thinking about who's buying your presents this year. It's weird how this holiday season is always a new All Time Low **** this place. I would much rather Walk The Moon fixin for something that warms my heart again. So I hold it in my hands and breathe. And I Imagine Dragons breathing fire onto my skin, maybe someone will call me hot. Maybe Someone will Hear Me. I sit on my Front Porch Step Aware of the Mayday Parade that marches down my spine and I forget how to walk. How to talk how to breathe as I Panic! At the disco music that you seem to really like. You are memories of a ride in a Death Cab For Cutie I Will Follow You Into The Dark. If I'm not already there. And I will Parachute into Owl City and lie in your bed that is a Passion Pit. It entramps me and keeps me hostage and I hate what your sheets feel like. You make me think that love is Of Monsters and Men and that women don't feel that word. You have killed me a thousand times, Queen of ******* over the things I have planned. We are My Chemical Romance a toxic ******** life threatining carcinogen trying to **** me. But this is Kinda Punkish I Guess and again I have my playlist. That sounds like you but it saves me and doesn't **** me. Here's a Simple Plan this holiday. Leave me the **** alone this year.
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Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
Kinda Punkish I Guess (a playlist on my Spotify)
But what about me!? What about my feelings!? What about my needs!? It’s my heart you’re unknowingly stealing! Don’t ignore my love, I’ll make you miss my presence Show you what you’ve lost so you wished you never left it Because I know you didn’t mean to drop my heart, here’s some glue Now get to fixin’ I’m desperate Obsessed and conniving with a plash guile touch When did she get so vigilant with her fussbudget qualities? OH babygirl you’re to much! Stop wanting things you cant have, and don’t force someone to Love. You fell for him big deal, doesn’t mean it was meant to be. Don’t let this one guy devastate you It’s your love and you can still give it out freely. Lets not add another person with their heart locked down ’cause of a few let downs All casually swimming in that Pool of “I don’t believe in true love” crowd They go around shut off from the world Refusing life’s love passion pearls Instead accept the ones who loves you now More love will come your way, quit searching for a when,where & how Let nature take it’s course and follow it Restrict not your love just the need for it to always be accepted Prince charming will be here to scoop up his queen In the meantime enjoy having just yourself, figure out what life’s got to offer Its right at your fingertips nearly bursting at the seams.
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
Needy Girl
Then took her by complete surprise; Bursting forth into hysterics I gazed into her glazed, mesmeric eyes **My intention descending like nightmarish haze; *Said **** that merit badge Grandma ***** let the cat out the bag I wanna play*** She's fixin for a lickin And I'm dying to get a taste That ***** glistening so listen Preheat the oven don't need no glove I've got an addiction finna bore in frictionless! Instantly smitten, Her face turned shades of crimson when I finished with "Lets play genital hide & seek - You're it" It's time to remit demented dementia baby I'm not so easy to forget; & I'm shots of splotchy red like syphilis *Don't front like you won't give me the nookie Girl urrbody had a crack at your world famous cookies & I just can't keep my hand out the jar* Tonight I'll wrestle a cougar with my bare hands
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
Today I helped an old lady cross the street
Tick Tick Tick. 3am. 3am. see. that's when the clock broke and I broke down Put my pride aside and decided I'd take ink to my crumpled up heart to write you a letter with the tainted blood you left flowing through my veins the, clock broke and now I'm wondering when mourning you ends and morning begins again 3am and I'm accepting the apologies that I never received 3am and i'm coming to terms with the lies that I never believed I was always blissfully ignorant to the truths you kept as secrets painfully aware of all the lies you cowered under 3am and I'm simply searching for the truth in real ties and the pleasure in pain Can you give me that? I'm fixin' on how to rewind time, and fix the hands on your clock you know so that they match mine my thoughts sit on a grey cloud in my mind and I realize. I can't write anymore. without you--I can barely even breathe so tell me...how am I supposed to place two words standing together while this whole time I've been on my knees tick. tick. tick. 3am, that's when the clock blocked and my hand stopped how am gonna finish this ?... I guess I'm not. **** writer's block.
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
3am writer's block.
I spoke to your Guardian Angel, He Said you were doin' just great, He said I could visit you sometime, But I can't seem to fit through the gate. I want you to know I miss you, I think of you a lot, But since you're not here With me, my dear, There are lots of things, I'm not. I'm not out there workin the corner Leanin against the wall Waitin for cash, fixin the ash, On a pipe I'll smoke in a hall. I'm not dope-sick and pukin out on the porch floor, Worried how long till you come through the door. I'm sorry I couldn't have stopped you I admit, I didn't try hard, I wasn't aware when you left me there, Death was waiting downstairs, in a car. I know now I couldn't have stopped you, Or even have made you wait, Destiny knocked on the door that night, And told you, You couldn't be late. I spoke to your Guardian Angel, He said I could stop in my mind, Blaming myself, Or anyone else, You were part of God's plan The whole time.
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Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
GUARDIAN ANGEL
Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Osama bin Laden hit us hard he knocked down our buildings in a murderous barrage then President Bushie atop a rubble heap vowed to **** Osama bury em for keeps Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now W and Dickie invaded Afghan soon thereafter disposed of Saddam seven years later casualties swell these wars are nightmares a living hell Bombs destroy civilian homes missiles strike by killer drones collateral damage a cardinal sin hearts and minds we'll never win Oh Mr. Obama this is your war now we don't care who started it it don't matter no how sign the peace papers make the hard call bring the troops home before one more falls to build our country we need global friends fightin for oil is war without end You must think it over give it some thought the lives you ended the horror wrought Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Our country needs fixin there's much to do jobs, health n schoolin and homeless vets too you got a Nobel a prize for peace you said war was hell is too hard to cease to continue the course to bomb and bash hate grows against us we risk a great crash a hope we can believe in you would oft say you win election we don't change our ways these wars are pointless don't make no sense bring the troops home let the war machine rest Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Afghans are dying they take up arms to **** young Yanks and do us harm so think of moms, lovers and friends of young dead soldiers we'll never hold again how are you sleeping? do you toss and turn? do the faces of dead ones make your conscience burn? So Mr. Obama just bring them home now the Good Lord will bless you beat swords into ploughs Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Music Selection: Country Joe and the Fish: Feel Like I'm Fixing to Die Rag jbm NYC 3/15/10
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Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC
Mr. Obama Its Your War Now
Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Osama bin Laden hit us hard he knocked down our buildings in a murderous barrage then President Bushie atop a rubble heap vowed to **** Osama bury em for keeps Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now W and Dickie invaded Afghan soon thereafter disposed of Saddam seven years later casualties swell these wars are nightmares a living hell Bombs destroy civilian homes missiles strike by killer drones collateral damage a cardinal sin hearts and minds we'll never win Oh Mr. Obama this is your war now we don't care who started it it don't matter no how sign the peace papers make the hard call bring the troops home before one more falls to build our country we need global friends fightin for oil is war without end You must think it over give it some thought the lives you ended the horror wrought Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Our country needs fixin there's much to do jobs, health n schoolin and homeless vets too you got a Nobel a prize for peace you said war was hell is too hard to cease to continue the course to bomb and bash hate grows against us we risk a great crash a hope we can believe in you would oft say you win election we don't change our ways these wars are pointless don't make no sense bring the troops home let the war machine rest Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Afghans are dying they take up arms to **** young Yanks and do us harm so think of moms, lovers and friends of young dead soldiers we'll never hold again how are you sleeping? do you toss and turn? do the faces of dead ones make your conscience burn? So Mr. Obama just bring them home now the Good Lord will bless you beat swords into ploughs Refrain: Oh Mr. Obama its your war now war profits are up and so is the Dow we've carried the gun and dropped the plough these wars must end so end them now Music Selection: Country Joe and the Fish: Feel Like I'm Fixing to Die Rag jbm NYC 3/15/10
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If I had a dollar for every poem I ever wrote, I wouldn’t even have a grand. How on Earth would I pay the monthly rent, buy our food, survive darling? I guess a goat & a yurt doesn’t sound so bad after all. We could start a garden, grow some tomatoes & drink fresh unpasteurized raw milk, We could even make soap. Fixin’ a hole in the ceiling would just take a needle and thread. What a simple life we’d lead, we could actually talk to each other. And in the winter, we could spoon, snuggle underneath a real buffalo rug. It would be groovy. You could tug on my ear lobe with your pretty teeth & whisper how much you loved me.
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Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
A Poet Thinks About Their Survival (A Goat & A Yurt)
I woke up this mornin’, All wound-up, down in the deep, Laid-back under the haystack half asleep, When she pulled up In her Cadillac, uh huh, And pointed to the two pillows In the back, uh huh. But will she get to me? We shall see. Out behind the barn We tore thru the broomcorn plots; Then up in the loft, She cut the tops of my bootstraps off; But she fits the bill All by herself, uh huh; All nine-yards on A five-foot shelf, uh huh. But will she get to me? We shall see. When autumn has rolled Past the summer’s fold, If the line goes slack, If the wheels won’t go, ‘Cause I’ve never cried, Not when mother died, Nor this mornin’ When you went away —— —— Was it then? Or was it yesterday? I told her: “It’s not fair! It despairs the spirit of man, To give a slave to their fate Just to pay them to slave on demand!” Then she said to me While she was fixin’ her hair, uh huh: “Some loser’s always tryin’ To make the whole world fair,” uh huh. But will she get to me? We shall see. When autumn has rolled Past the summer’s fold, If the line goes slack, If the wheels won’t go, ‘Cause I’ve never cried, Not when mother died, Nor this mornin’ When you went away —— —— Was it then? Or was it yesterday?
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC
We Shall See
T’was the night before Christmas And in his outhouse Sat Ja quietly listening To waltz’s, by Strauss. (Really, he was leafing thru Penthouse) The ******* was fitted With all manner of lights That couldn’t be missed No matter what heights When up on the roof There arose such a clatter Ja, kicked open the door To see what was the matter So there sat Ja With his pants pulled down His *** in a hole On his forehead, a frown He leaped up so quickly Through the doorway to pass Tripped over his pants And fell on his *** Then flat on his back His bare *** in the snow He looked up to see The roof all aglow Poor Santa had landed On that, small, sloped roof But there wasn’t enough room For sleigh, and each tiny hoof Ja had decorated everything So the outhouse, shone bright And Santa mistook it When he arrived that night The reindeer slid off Were hanging by their straps And Santa had saved them By grabbing, the roof ***** Poor Rudolph fell the farthest Boy, was his nose beaming Just then, losing his grip Santa started screaming Fly Dancer, fly ***** Fly Donner, fly Blitzen Don’t let me fall into This **** Ja was fixin Then just like magic They started to float And Santa, raising his fist Did this warning shout Be very careful old man I’ll get you some day Stay alert Christmas Eve Don’t get in my way Now, each Christmas Eve Ja, won’t step foot out that door Cause he knows Santa is waiting To even the score BOEMS BY JA 18
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
THE NIGHT BEFORE
I've never really thought, about when I do the dishes, I see the crumbs and specks, here and there, is when I come up with wishes. That old dryer machine, is making a little noise again, the cabinet needs a fixin', and the fridge is breaking down and then, the car needs a tune up, but that can wait a little while, I'm worried about the kids, as they pick up the Hollywood style. Washing the dishes, as the water goes down the drain, I'm thinking of the flowers in the backyard, how they bloom after it rains. Roses are read, violets are blue, these dishes need washing, and there are other things to do. The water, it pours, it sploshes, and drips, the dog is running on the hard-wood floor, and is having trouble getting grips. Washing the dishes, I think about the times, when life was good, and somewhat easy, now this poem is... getting rather cheesy. It's kinda funny, about what you're thinkin while you wash, you start to take your time and then the dishes are done. Oh...
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Washing the Dishes
Sweet William,             I've done heard it all be-fore,           You got the looks, got the hair,              that clever draw and more... But sweetie here I am again, Got Momma here, -crying again. Wrecked-up face, my map of men, This time so bad, lad, -you ain't fixin' William!     My sweet Will-i-am, William!     My sweet Will-i-am, ...you ain't gonna hit me no more. Some love is hard/borders on sin, Crying to God, please A-men? Goodbye door, my bags packing, Well-heeled feet, living A-gain, William!     My sweet Will-i-am, William!     My sweet Will-i-am, ...you ain't gonna hit me no more. SWEET WILLIAM!     Sweet William, Hurting no, -no more... Call me up- 'ev-er-y' night Devil at My door, Battle yourself/I'm not your fight. ...you ain't gonna hurt me no more.
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Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 12:32 AM UTC
William!
You had a method for testing the fiction said “God’s not a bad man, but I know you need fixin’ You’re beautiful, you’re underwhelmed, anyway.” There is a hand in the sky holding flames to your eye but it’s not hard to tell there’s fresh swell of sighs on its way to us, expectant, holding sway. A court of flatterers dolled up in tatters, I can hardly hear for the sound of their chatter-- the words they say fumble, they lead astray. Since in the daytime I am soft-spoken and mild, they’re all convinced I have the soft will of a child It’s up to you to explain, I must have my way. See, I’ve got a fine plan for testing the fiction, God’s a good man when he’s free of restrictions So trust in me when I say, I will pray. Talking of sacrament, boy’s got a blessed bent so he won’t hold me when ma says it’s not prudent-- “It’s not for a girl to say, anyway” Here’s my hand reaching; I was born a huntress, Come when I call you, obey when I say undress: Here’s a test for your holiness, here I lay.
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Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 8:44 PM UTC
Method
Rantings now I'm hoping not to offend anyone but this has been a really bad day, and I'm fixin to climb up the *** of someone don't really care if you wanna hear what I say my old dog crapped in the hallway looked at me and gave me this smile, she said I'm gonna do this all day leaving you pile upon pile the mechanic said my vehicle was broken to fix it will cost you more than its worth, he smiled so I thought I might smoke him pound his *** down to the earth my girlfriend said I was crazy I wanted more than she had, from that point my mind went kinda hazy a 12 pack of Pabst and I'm mad Now I'm trying to explain my bad humor understand why I talk like a fool, feels like I have a brain tumor crap, I almost fell off this stool tomorrow I'll have a need for a head shrink I probably won't remember a thing, but right now give me more hard ***** to drink some for you too cause I'm gonna sing well this is my work of wild whining I need me someone to blame, I've been kicked to the curb to drunk for dinning, I was a good guy, I'll stay the same. Gomer LePoet...
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Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 4:12 AM UTC
Rantings
when I was nine, my brother Tommy and I used to walk by old South Bend Sammy on our way home from Sunday school. I used to give him half of my allowance every other Sunday, because I figured that was what God intended. Sammy would send me inside of the neighborhood grocery store to buy him some sterno for a buck 50. I always wondered what he could possibly have to cook, with him being homeless and all. I never asked him, but every other week, as promised, there I was delivering the sterno. when I asked my daddy, he told me that old South Bend Sammy was cooking his insides. “that stuff’ll **** em one day, so don’t go wastin’ your money on a man like that,” he said, but I did it anyway. when I was eleven, old South Bend Sammy was found dead on his corner. He died on Christmas day. Bobby Richardson, who was in the eleventh grade, told us that he saw the body before they carted em off. Said his uncle killed em accidentally when he threw his cigarette **** on the ground by Sammy's feet. Poor old Sammy was burned like someone was fixin’ to make a barbeque. but Lisa Jameson’s daddy was a cop, and he said that old Sammy died from an old fashioned case of a heat poisoning. “I didn’t know that heat could poison you” I asked my daddy later that night. “darlin’, it can if you drink it.”
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Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
the story of south bend sammy.
mucking out my mind looking for buried treasure and making repairs
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
Fixin a Whole
[[This one was written to the tune of Joe's Head by Kings of Leon]] Beware; zombies' feeding Cold and blood and snow They gon' get them a fixin' I say, y'all better go Heavy weighs destruction Breathing are the dead Try to keep up wit' yo wishin' Oh, welcome to the end It's too late for your prayers, dear They're crawlin' at your feet It really is the end of the world, I said Soon, zombies'll be feeding upon my head But I aint thru livin' yet And I sho ain't ready to be dead The walkin' dead are gon' eat us, mayuhn! They caught us off guard with no defense So now we're all dead Zombies are painting our whole world red.....
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Dec 12, 2010
Dec 12, 2010 at 2:04 PM UTC
Livin' dead.........
Here kid, look at this We took all of those star yonder And put um right in this little thingymajiger Quite a sight, ain't it A'course, we couldn't put the stars back Oh well We can whip out some more Just ask whobewhatie He's got all the fixin's for stars A'course They won't be as bright as before And there's no guarantee on how long they'll burn But, well, gee Just look at that there thingymajiger in your hand and tell me that's not worth allthemoneyinyourpocketsandthensome! What'd'ya mean y'ain't got no money? Ah, never mind Have a good life kid Sorry about the stars............
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Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 2:14 AM UTC
On The Value Of Thingymajigers And The Morality Of Ownership
Early one morning, before sun took to sky, they came to take Johnny. It was his time to die. The town had all gathered, the crowd circled in. As Johnny was strong armed, by four big men, and lead to the gallows, to hang until dead. They called for his blood, and he just turned his head. Johnny stayed silent, as the hateful calls came, with no pleas for his life, or innocent claim. He stepped to the noose, with no fear in his eyes, not every man chooses just when he dies. But Johnny had taken, the life of a man- with no explanation, with his own bare hands. The crowd raised their bibles, demanded him dead, they called for his life, and he just turned his head. The priest at the gallows, looked him in the eye, and said to him "Johnny, you're fixin' to die. You've been tried and sentenced, and haven't been heard. You're found guilty of ****** and y'ain't said a word. It's too late for you now, to make recompense, but do you have any last words, to speak in defense?" The crowd was voracious, they wanted him dead. He just cleared his throat, and lifted his head... The silence that followed, was stuck in their throats, as Johnny spoke up, in no broken notes. "The man killed my brother, and then was set free. He was friends with the judges, that execute me. If justice shall fail, then take vengeance instead- so I took the man's throat, and I choked the man dead. Now I face the gallows, I do so with no dread." The crowd remained silent. Each one turned their head. The sun broke the darkness, on the top of that hill. Johnny stopped speaking, and stepped to the **** The noose was pulled tight, up under his chin. He looked towards heaven, eyes vacant of sin. The old oak trap door, creaked under his feet, and with a pull of a lever, the deed was complete, and a peaceful expression graced the face of the dead; and even the hangman, had to turn his head. Later that evening, as the sun left the sky, she sat at John's grave, with no tears left to cry. She dropped a red rose, on the freshly dug earth, and said goodbye to the last child, she'd ever giv'n birth. She'd buried the other, as she buried this one, one died for the other, to see justice done. She sat there and pondered, where the road had lead. Then she stood up, heartbroken, and just turned her head.
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
Turning Heads (John at the Gallows)
Early one morning, before sun took to sky, they came to take Johnny. It was his time to die. The town had all gathered, the crowd circled in. As Johnny was strong armed, by four big men, and lead to the gallows, to hang until dead. They called for his blood, and he just turned his head. Johnny stayed silent, as the hateful calls came, with no pleas for his life, or innocent claim. He stepped to the noose, with no fear in his eyes, not every man chooses just when he dies. But Johnny had taken, the life of a man- with no explanation, with his own bare hands. The crowd raised their bibles, demanded him dead, they called for his life, and he just turned his head. The priest at the gallows, looked him in the eye, and said to him "Johnny, you're fixin' to die. You've been tried and sentenced, and haven't been heard. You're found guilty of ****** and y'ain't said a word. It's too late for you now, to make recompense, but do you have any last words, to speak in defense?" The crowd was voracious, they wanted him dead. He just cleared his throat, and lifted his head... The silence that followed, was stuck in their throats, as Johnny spoke up, in no broken notes. "The man killed my brother, and then was set free. He was friends with the judges, that execute me. If justice shall fail, then take vengeance instead- so I took the man's throat, and I choked the man dead. Now I face the gallows, I do so with no dread." The crowd remained silent. Each one turned their head. The sun broke the darkness, on the top of that hill. Johnny stopped speaking, and stepped to the **** The noose was pulled tight, up under his chin. He looked towards heaven, eyes vacant of sin. The old oak trap door, creaked under his feet, and with a pull of a lever, the deed was complete, and a peaceful expression graced the face of the dead; and even the hangman, had to turn his head. Later that evening, as the sun left the sky, she sat at John's grave, with no tears left to cry. She dropped a red rose, on the freshly dug earth, and said goodbye to the last child, she'd ever giv'n birth. She'd buried the other, as she buried this one, one died for the other, to see justice done. She sat there and pondered, where the road had lead. Then she stood up, heartbroken, and just turned her head.
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46
She's down here, in Dixie She doesn't try, to fix me Her sultry Texas drawl I'm at, her beck, and call She's my sultry ***** Tain't nothing needing fixin Her eyes, can make a dream As honey mixed, with cream She's got a laugh infectious She always, leaves me breathless Her way with me so fine Everywhere, and every time She's my Dixie ***** Tain't nothing needing fixin Her lips, her kisses, mine She's what makes the south, divine
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 12:44 PM UTC
Dixie *****
I say, status seems pychic– How! Za-zoo! And how! O' that brain be electric as a buzz! I'm all a'fixin' to be boxed. These joints are a'sprainin– Winter wind snakes done constricted and strainèd. Out of place. Almost out of time, I swear: Never enough place, barely enough time. Korean girl's all a'watchin' to see how I sip hot tea... Out! Get out! I got them delusions, deliriums– All's done. I'm diluted, sayin': *“Medicine for my grievin'– Aye, my confidence has been gone. Never did speak of leavin'– I met him at the ditch at dawn.”* And left unsaid was better yet, coos all a'whisperin' by waters. Water's runnin' thin now. Creek's gone, ran dry. He's a man of stature, he can't just go! Anthills and ant burrows 'neath sands gone mad– O’ bore teeth! Yea! Where's the meter meeting the rhyme when your bliss'd metronomicist loses pace and dies? Slows and slows and slower yet his heart does beat and the last of his words do run across his teak frame: *“O' bore teeth! Bearing ‘em all; All is a'grinding!”* It’s but a machine to keep one’s rhythm, to help one maintain the desired beat. She kisses me on the forehead. I return the gesture on her cheek. He whispers to me through darkness: “There are many worlds we’ve yet to see.” It is thoughts like that which grant me focus. Where all’s good and wishes, like prayers, be lent. My thoughts lag behind, weighted by you. I strain them through hot water for tea. She watches as I drink. I waited for you– Drank it by the ditch in the morning. I fend off these demons in the courtyard. Winter spells done summoned my greyest thoughts. Here all's good! Yea, all be lent– I tacked your name to the corkboard. Alas, none was meant for you– I fend off thoughts in the courtyard. O’ that mind be broken, still-painted grey! Not much I can do but keep the winter at bay.
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Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
Bore Teeth
I say, status seems pychic– How! Za-zoo! And how! O' that brain be electric as a buzz! I'm all a'fixin' to be boxed. These joints are a'sprainin– Winter wind snakes done constricted and strainèd. Out of place. Almost out of time, I swear: Never enough place, barely enough time. Korean girl's all a'watchin' to see how I sip hot tea... Out! Get out! I got them delusions, deliriums– All's done. I'm diluted, sayin': *“Medicine for my grievin'– Aye, my confidence has been gone. Never did speak of leavin'– I met him at the ditch at dawn.”* And left unsaid was better yet, coos all a'whisperin' by waters. Water's runnin' thin now. Creek's gone, ran dry. He's a man of stature, he can't just go! Anthills and ant burrows 'neath sands gone mad– O’ bore teeth! Yea! Where's the meter meeting the rhyme when your bliss'd metronomicist loses pace and dies? Slows and slows and slower yet his heart does beat and the last of his words do run across his teak frame: *“O' bore teeth! Bearing ‘em all; All is a'grinding!”* It’s but a machine to keep one’s rhythm, to help one maintain the desired beat. She kisses me on the forehead. I return the gesture on her cheek. He whispers to me through darkness: “There are many worlds we’ve yet to see.” It is thoughts like that which grant me focus. Where all’s good and wishes, like prayers, be lent. My thoughts lag behind, weighted by you. I strain them through hot water for tea. She watches as I drink. I waited for you– Drank it by the ditch in the morning. I fend off these demons in the courtyard. Winter spells done summoned my greyest thoughts. Here all's good! Yea, all be lent– I tacked your name to the corkboard. Alas, none was meant for you– I fend off thoughts in the courtyard. O’ that mind be broken, still-painted grey! Not much I can do but keep the winter at bay.
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61
(Song title from Bukka White’s catalogue, by B. White) I saw a young girl standing on the bridge, Golden hair, Rosy lips and frightened eyes, Water runs from deep inside, She stares across the Thames as it flows fast and rough, She’s fixin’ to die; she’s had enough.
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
Fixin' To Die
"Well, do good, but also do well. Listen well. Live well. Eat well. Love well. Mean well. Speak and read well. Should'ya write, write **** well. Oh, and one more thing: iffin' yer fixin' t'be dressin' well, be sure to dress real fuckin' well."
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
A wise man once told me: