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Lawrence Hall Jun 2019
With its four-beat
Putt-putt, putt-putt
Continental rhythm
Putt-putt, putt-putt
It plows and putts
Putt-putt, putt-putt
It pulls and putts
Putt-putt, putt-putt
It plants and putts
Putt-putt, putt-putt
It digs and putts
Putt-putt, putt-putt
It mows and putts
Putt-putt, putt-putt
It rakes and putts
Putt-putt, putt-putt
It bales and putts
Putt-putt, putt-putt
A little oil, a little gas
Putt-putt, putt-putt
A sweet machine
Putt-putt, putt-putt
Upon the grass
Putt-putt, putt-putt
When all is done
Putt-putt, putt-putt
And all is said
Putt-putt, putt-putt
There’s nothing like
Putt-putt, putt-putt
Massey-Ferguson red
Putt-putt, putt-putt!
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
I used to be a golfer once
But, now I am a hack
I swing around a waist of jello
I only play the middle tees
I used to play the back
I only use ***** that are yellow

My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else

I used to have a short game once
I used be real good
(Where do you think you might have lost it?)
I used to have no fear at all
I knew all that I should
(Is it with your sand wedge, where you tossed it?)

My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else

I used to split the fairways boys
I used to sink the putts
(What ever happened to the feeling?)
I can't hit a **** fairway now
I only hit wide cuts
(It's enough to send my mindset reeling)

My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else

Now, I am afraid most days
I can't hit it off the ground
I only hit well when I drink some
I know each tree out on our course
I know the ball hits tree bark sound
I only play good when I've got ***

My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else

I used to be a golfer once
I wish I still could play
I wish so hard for that sweet feeling
I once was good
But not today
If I could find Diablo, I'd be dealing

But, my game is up on the shelf
And it's funny
How, I play only by myself
No money
I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play like myself
Jeremy Betts Sep 2022
Listen closely when I say this, I don't want to be this, seemingly utterly and socially useless, maybe I spoke it into existence
Best case scenario, this is a ridiculous place to claim as my residence but I never bothered to put forth any resistance
I sit motionless yet some how makin' progress but of course it's lackluster at best, barely a measurable distance
Still forced to press on through 39 rounds of this rigged contest, feeling foolish in lue of my new found cluelessness
Pretending my grip on reality isn't bogus, wishing it was possible to possess more than just a faulty compass
And what good is a shoulder angel drunk off two fifths, ******* me with the devils fist and a strap-on apparatus
How'd it get like this? Was there an exit I missed? Who put destiny up to this?
It's been a continuous loosing battle with this mentality of a defeatist and it means business with tape from wrist to fist
Feel as helpless as a fetus once outside the ****** in the eyes of half of Congress, ******* preposterous
An optimistic pessimist trapped inside a pessimistic optimist, chew on this, I claim the glass itself is a myth
Flip flop from avoiding to chasing deaths kiss, back and forth with reckless abandon that's settin' dangerous precedents
Hiding this incurable, terminal illness in plain sight, a relentless and ravenous sickness
Cancerous thoughts are more than an irritating noosance, it's a merciless menice encased in madness
What am I supposed to learn from this? They say everyone plays the fool sometimes but this is ridiculous, plus, I don't see the purpose
A phony realist, a visually impaired key eye witness. Who hears the crys for help from within the shadows of darkness?
Don't tell me it's the same heartless putts in charge of forgiveness, I need real help so I'm gonna pass on the self-righteous
Is there anybody who knows and could possibly tell me if then why I actually exist
Could they, would they let me know how long all this bull shiits gonna persist?
An existential crisis, I'll give you the knife if you promise to twist and leave it in my back for others to witness
There I am, atop of my own hit list and shiit list, racing toward the top spots like it's a goal I refuse not to witness
Take a shot, I insist, do or do not, there is no try with a mind overwhelmed with sadness
Tripped and slipped and fell head first into madness, it's my ****** up opus, I don't know where hope is
The line between good and evil seems seamless, can't beet 'em join 'em so I tried to harness the darkness, obviously a swing and a miss
I'm the catalyst of my own demize, an apologist for this Hyde side I can't evict with any permanence
Utterly incapable, physically and mentally unable to trespass him from the premises
So I come unglued at the seems and fall to pieces below the surface, letting life continue it's nonconsensual coitus
Here's my thesis, it's better for the masses if I continue suffering in silence and not be anyone elses regrets
Build a wall around this temple, turn open boarders to a closed fortress
No exit or entrance, not allowing me in your presence while keeping life at a distance
Not sure I'll survive this but let's be honest, I don't really need to venture a guess
Let's just say the answer is not a simple yes but it's my reality none the less

©2022
DAVID Mar 2015
my everlasting eyes,
shine, at the sight,
of you, and your eyes,
deep as the sea,

mi everlasting soul,
bares a curse, heavy
and strong, the shine of
those eyes, in a time,
give the broken heart hope,

the chance was given, and
not accepted, now is all over,
almost lose my freedom, the pedofile's
cousin, and your corrupted and
lying **** up world, disgust me.

the backwards world,
and the loss of freedom,
was the end, of it, you lose
me, now you know, what
you want.

finding, what you lost,
is a chance, but find it in
someones elses eyes.

my everlasting heart, can't died,
but, suffers like a human heart,
the zen monk in me, is out
of your lying world, out of my life,

never a friend, or a lover, just
a lying world sended,
trying to con me, not interested
in a crying game,
je sui templer, mon chere.

truth is part of me,
she is my faith, mine,
and the world's renaissance,

the sacred ancestor,
of some of my family,
your world,
the transginger world,
girls on ties,
playing dodgeball,

burning templars
like if i could be burn,
or destroyed,
i shot my head after 22 years,
of pain and deceit,
not even i, could **** myself,
you putts

and maybe in some way ,
i could love you.
and still miss you,
but not a gay boy mate,

so keep the gay boys,
and carrie on, find some truth,
in your life, truth is more,
than the ****, is a state of mind.

is the sacred moto, on the heart of a lion.
keep the chu chu train, the give and take crap,
and be free, and out of my life.
after all, i'm too sweet for a tv girl.

my soul is everything,
don't know if you even have it,
or lost it, for being there, but c'est fini
mon cheri, c'est fini, je sui templer,
even science is templar, under the new
brake truths.

so, all is forgiven,
even the pato yañez, even the lies,
i can see you love me ,i know,
but sometimes, we lost what
we don't know we want.

cause, after all the lies,
after all those gay boys,
still you want, a man in your life
all is over, and keep the faith
relax and be free, away from me.

no favors, from this,
old everlasting soul, maybe i
could find some love, know what you want
alive and kicking, and ready, for it all.

nothing to say, if you have something to say,
say it to my face, and vaya con dios,
away this everlasting ship, has sail.

from the other side of the world,
i say, keep those friend's of you,
and stay, the **** away from me.

and make it count,
i can see your end mate,
alone and wrinkled,
and bitter to the bone,
like the wife of the creep,
the male dog on a wig.

my everlasting heart, is ready
for some truth, after all the lies, of
your creepy, world of WANKERS,
NEVER MIND THE *******,
SOME OLD FRIEND SAY,

my heart is  healthy,
and operative,
this everlasting heart, and this
everlasting soul, is gone,
from your beautiful, but deceiving eyes,

maybe some sweet sweet barbie ,
with a mind and soul, and a heart,
or some bellissima, or even
that **** and sweet clown.

farewell,mi bitter sweetness,
keep the one, who think is me,
that crazy transginger, whose
fatal attraction,made a titanic,
of the droit ship,

they are out of my life,
and with them are you,
out of me.

you lose me, at pato yañez.
you and all your gay boys.
this heart is deep and black,
and ready for use.

can't help, but not look at you anymore
listen avientame, by cafe tacuba,
the urban myth wrote that,
but he's not writing no more,
no calls and no favors, for the one
trying to save a creep, ask paula ***** for help,
or the little ****, no wait, they are inside me,

after the rapes and the harassment,
trying to save, what they destroy,
but keep on rapping, that is out
of my life.
and you are proud of defending a child molester

vaya con dios.
lose me , can't be with you, adios.
Phil Lindsey Mar 2015
There was a good golfer named Jim
Whose hearing and eyesight were dim
With the match on the line,
He started to whine -
Because he wanted putts given to him.
Phil Lindsey Mar 2018
He left the bases loaded
He left a lot of par putts short
He left friends laughing at his tales
Of how he failed at every sport.
He left a girlfriend at the altar
He left an ex-wife home in tears
He left his brother on a barstool,
Paying for his beers.
He left money on the table
He left well enough alone
He left his job before the quitting time
Told his boss, “I’m headed home.”
He left a scrap of paper,
With a short conclusive note
It said, “I think we’ve got it wrong,
But I am just one vote.”
He left some pictures on the table,
Arranged in a collage
He left his pick up running
That night in his garage.
PwL 3/20/2018
Matt Jun 2015
I had ceral for breakfast yesterday

I went drove over and put seven dollars
Worth of gas in my tank
That's all I can really afford

Then I drove over to the golf course
I was going to hit a few putts
But instead I just parked in the shade
With my feet out the window

I drove by my house
To see if they had left yet
I wasn't in the mood
For a family outing

I parked a few block beneath
My street in the shade
Covered my car
With the cover

And made my way
To the trail
By the golf course

I used a long branch
To reach golf ball
Above me
On a little hill

I am a golf ball collector
I sat on my yoga mat
Underneath the shade
Of a tree

I noticed a sparrow hawk
Land in an oak tree
I zoomed in to take a picture
And it flittered away

I made my way back to the car
And drove home
I figured I would have
An hour or so before
They got back
From the movie

I had the other half
Of the double double
And small chocolate milkshake

I consume those items
Over two days
Because they are
A bit unhealthy

I began my walk down
To the gym

I wrote "America is doomed"
And Jade Helm
With a fruit and that green plant

Jade Helm is a cover
For the military takeover
Of the southwestern U.S.
Alex Jones has been told
By hgh level military sources

I stopped and sat underneath
A tree on the median

Small pink flowers
Had bloomed

And these little white
Fluffy seeds were falling
As I looked up

I climbed the tree
Look at me
I'm a monkey in the tree

I laid back againt the tree
And put my legs up

I spent quite some time up there
Waving to the people as they drove by

To be continued...
Matt Jul 2015
My body is unattractive
And women don't like me

Oh well

The body is a tomb
Anyhow

Sometimes I think
Life is incredibly dull

And what's the point
I can't seem to change
My situation

A changing time
A changing place
A changing name
A changing face

But it's really all the same
All the same
It's all a game

It's all a big matrix
A big matrix computer

My plain dull expression
In the reflection
Of my Kenmore fan

Reading articles
Hitting putts
On putting greens for
Hours alone

This must be
What it is all about

As our miserable nation
Teeters on the edge
A nation in economic ruins

Let it fail!
Let the whole thing fail

Lousy politicians and banksters

And all I have is this life
It's really nothing
To get excited about
You know

Heaven better be fun
There better be golf there
Or peace

And there better be women
There to give me a hug
And I better have good friends there

These are the things I want there

The body is a burden

I have become close
To an island

A lonely man
On his lonely island

Wandering wandering
Somewhere random
Banging hiking sticks
On the ground

And look at all the fancy cars
And all the well to do Americans
And aren't they so sure
So confident
In their worthless American dollars

Their toilet paper dollars!

Driving around
With important things to do

As I walk around
With my akward shoulder

Striking sticks against the ground

Hahaha

Is this place all
Just one big joke?

Seems like it I guess

Well I love Jesus
Just as much
As the next Christian

I should take
Some snacks
In a little army
Storage bag

It came with the gas mask
I ordered some time ago
Just for fun

I *******
Because women
Ignore me

Oh well

And why is earth
Such a bore

And maybe I'll go to the mountain

I'll just go to the gym
Again

Remember
Soon it will be
Every man for himself

To the globalist
You are just
A useless eater!
Beaver Meadow Sep 2023
The Sun has gone to summer up the south,
Leaving a fading shadow of his light.
A cold begins to spread by word of mouth
As Jack Frost comes to nip the nose of Night.
September swells the gourd; the squirrel's brown nuts
Are resting on a chin of pinion pine.
A golfer wears a sweater while she putts
Around her garden, tipsily tipping wine.
The seasons change in both the hemispheres:
The tidal oscillation, back and forth,
That rolls the wheel of time through rolling years,
Is bringing winter back to freeze the north.
All seasons change, except within my heart:
The summer of my love will not depart.
Matt Jun 2015
On the Range

I saw the kind man
Tell the kind woman
That she had good form
He has a great smile

I saw her that other day
Having fun hitting *****
And talking with a friend
Good people

Hitting Putts

I saw the women with
Their colored dresses walk into the clubhouse

I saw the flock of white birds fly together
How they moved
This was the Tao

It was moving
In action
Ever present and in motion

I cried a bit

Tao is great
Heaven is great
Earth is great
Norbert Tasev May 2020
Chain-eyed heroes served in an ore-shaped cliff socket: aggastyan wages are served, silently in the immortality of time. They preserve their past by listening to their vision of Theiresias. Lightnings also stand on time-worn wounded ridges, prophets of loneliness stand: Iris soares to indefinite heights With the meaning of Icarus, the thinking consciousness: It never gives up!

All the pounding noises are their murmurs, a majestic, terrifying revelation: Below the diminishing feet of the mountains stands an unfortunate village infested with its envy-morsel, - he utteres the smallness of Jericho aloud! The disgusted putts here like the killer spikes of bitterness

the illusory ideals, the illuminating morals, - the candlesticks of goodness are now shining less frequently here - the total attack of the killer-throated wolves that have ruined everything and everyone here - the Apocalypse is at home here and we are slowly recovering ourselves. - In an ore-hearted spine socket, silent truths are swept under the fluff of carpets, - beyond the wounded distant sky there is a stretched soaring golden dragon rocket lights. In the pure, unshakable bastions of silence, only the eternal human laws can be left to him alone: ​​Fear reigns at the knocking beats of heartbeats fear vulnerable personality consciousness

on his troubled, misunderstanding day he devours several times, a distorted mirage, the Peace of Appearance shines, if the wounded, pure-hearts do not do it! - In a granite socket, only they can be unbreakable septa, rock pipes that expropriate land: It crumples, whips the groove section of muscle chains and is not spared daily by the moody moody, raging natural disaster!

— The End —