"turkeys" poems
During a walk through the hallway
of the primary school
I find hallways
filled with turkeys and leafs and stiff scrawled characters.
What is Mr. Smith's class thankful for?
Flowers and toys and cars and dresses and pink and purple and soccer and skirts and barbies and family.
How could you sum up all of the things you are thankful for in one word?
At the end of the hallway I am faced with a choice:
*What are you thankful for?*
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What am I thankful for?
Happiness, and family and security and nature and
friends.
I am thankful for friends.
I am thankful for laughs and chatts and cries and sobs and games and smiles.
I am thanful for ****** contortions and 80s dance sessions,
for inabilty to speak.
I am thankful for hobos, eating on the side of the road,
and for devious scheymes of intoxicatation.
Hep beni anlayan bir arkadaşım var müteşekkirim
and who listens to my sob stories.
I am thankful for singing in the rain.
And styling hair in the sink
for screeching and howling
and hissing.
I am thankful for obkirchergasses,
for Ströcks and for ice cream plarlours.
I am thankful for mentos,
and walnuts.
I am thankful for bad lip readings and hilarious youtube vidoes.
I am thankful for unknown languages and nymphs
and for eloquence.
I am thankful for good taste in music
and for strong opinions.
I am thankful for dancing indian pirates with demon chicks and fireballs.
I am thankful for two-headed teenagers and barbeques.
I am thankful for God and healthy choice prayers,
and Hawaii get aways.
I am thankful for huge, hanging sweaters and crazy, funky leggings.
I am thankful for deep talks about the world's lack of beauty
and for poetry buddies.
I am thankful for dodgeball playing mice,
and poor old wenches.
I am thankful for pirate and mermaid adventures.
I am thankful for the looks we get:
looks of loud disapproval,
and whispers of quiet exasperation.
I am thankful for golden men and loud singing,
for crazy dances with crazy cousins and cute brothers.
I am thankful for Aunt Jemima.
I am thankful for banging on metal bars with rocks and shouting at the top of our lungs.
I am thankful for climbing over gates in order to not step on cracks.
I am thankful for amazing humanities teachers.
I am thankful for a laugh when the day is over.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How those kids manage to fit all of their thankfulness into one word is beyond me.
Even the one-word things we are thankful for, must be described with a million words.
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 7:42 AM UTC
people find it hard
to believe happiness
because for many,
it’s much more of a myth
or a hazy recollection
than it is something real
and rational and
to be aspired too
love and hope
and dreams
have taken on this air of
imagination
in recent generations
for a brief moment,
they were truly believed in
by the adults
by the people in charge
by the whole wide world
even as everything they knew before
had crumbled and wrecked
to a state beyond
their power to
repair
but it was that desolate place the world was
that drove the people to believe in such fancy
and frivolous thoughts
because if they had not,
the world would’ve withered
and died, like a cow so old
you know there’s no hope
or a flower so far gone
that you don’t mind to let it
wilt
those times went though,
like a leaf upon the wind,
as the children began acting
as the adults and followed
their dreams to a land so
few actually reached
and as the adults saw their failure
and the children saw the adults flee
the belief in love, in hope, in dreams,
in morals, in rites, in traditions, in
togetherness, in family, in belief-
failed
and
sunk
the last tip of the ship leaving the surface
with the first person who believed in the
infomercial
we do not know what we can do
because we do not believe we can
do anything
happiness, as I started this all out with,
is not a bed-time story
it is very real
and it is very
powerful
but in each average person’s life
they get to experience only once
or twice, seeming like a random
occurrence, and thus cementing
in so many people’s minds that
it is
but it is not
happiness comes from knowing how to be happy
it’s not about sacrifice
or faith
or hard-work
or dedication
it’s about knowing who you are,
what the world is,
and how you
can make
the best
of it
this is not some secret art
it is a simple idea:
that happiness can be controlled
and it’s execution is even simpler:
how can I be happy?
how can I be happy,
forever?
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 8:28 PM UTC
I’ll split the hairs, I’ll split an atom
And never leave the bedroom.
I most identify with December,
Not because of the crushing temperature
But the lack of cosmic dawdling
Is no more mesmerizing than a frozen phoenix.
And as she arrives by train from Phoenix,
I study who she appears to be, the atoms
Composing her auburn hair with dawdling
Authenticity shout “Take me to the bedroom!”
While the wedge of geese in this temperature
Head to the Southern Hemisphere’s December.
The common chill of this morning in December
Prevents us from rising from out the covers like a phoenix,
And our blankets like ash defend us from the temperature
That stills the vibrations of the atmosphere’s atoms.
I curse the insulated walls of the bedroom,
Trapping in heat and discouraging our dawdling.
A rafter of turkeys outside my window are dawdling,
Printing their runes on the documents of December
Between the thickets surrounding the bedroom
While the sun, golden like the plumage of a phoenix,
Awakens in my bones every dormant atom,
Instilling in me courage to brave the temperature.
I follow her, dressed, from the bedroom
And her footsteps serve to punctuate the temperature
Like the smoldering beak of a phoenix
Too busy being risen for dawdling.
She leaves, by train through the chill of December,
Me daydreaming of fission. The splitting of an atom.
I’ll split an atom daily, safely within the bedroom
And sleep through December’s pitiless, hollow temperature,
Waking only for dawdling until Spring is a phoenix.
Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 10:16 PM UTC
'Twas the night before Thanksgiving
And all through the forest
All the turkeys were gathered
From the richest to poorest
For a meeting was called
To plan their revenge
For all of their loved ones
Who were ever cooked or singed
Now this turkey rebellion
Was long overdue
How would they get even?
And what would they do?
I was there that night
When their meeting adjourned
Keep reading this poem
To see what I learned
This meeting went on
For what seemed like an hour
'Til a gobbler stepped forth
In their circle of power
Now all the turkeys agreed
To this gobbler's idea
They'd all eat some exlax
And give them diarrhea
No matter how they cooked it
Bake it or boil it
The humans would spend
All day on the toilet
So, remember this Thanksgiving
As you try to relax
Have plenty of TP
For those sudden attacks
Nov 10, 2010
Nov 10, 2010 at 10:17 AM UTC
Cock-a-doodle doo.
Pigs snorting and grunt.
Bleat baa the sheep.
Hidden in the trees squeak the squirrels.
Gobble gobble gobbling turkeys.
Low oxen moo the cows.
Hohi-a-hohhle hi
Bray donkeys so similar.
Rolling on the red dust.
The village.
A swallow-tailed bee-eater.
Calling and singing.
A green barbet, dark brown head.
Answers the call.
A red-capped lark, black bill.
Entertains the morning.
An emerald-spotted wood dove.
Seated lonely somewhere.
Coos to the extravaganza.
The village.
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 5:20 AM UTC
We fed ourselves on New Year's well
Gifts were exchanged over the song The First Noel
The evening before Christmas drinks were had
Many fooling themselves that they are glad
Throughout the cheer, men, women, and children in Yemen forgotten
Leftover turkeys and roasts would be hurriedly eaten even if found rotten
Starvation has Yemeni bodies eating themselves
Have you seen photos of their emaciated figures on newspapers' shelves
Pregnant women and newborn babies with dead husbands and dead fathers
How do they care for themselves when in the grand scheme of things no one bothers
Saudi military should go **** on themselves
Murderous cowards that they are playing with Santa's elves
Women in Yemen being ***** and domestic violence bring me to tears
Would they get away with their satanic work if the U.S. wasn't kissing their filthy rears
Seriously dangerous diseases running rampant
Yemenis beautiful skin no longer so lambent
So few of us care enough to choke up for our Ahmeds and for our Imans
I ask infuriatingly will it take a whole country's destruction to rise for Yemen's Marwans
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC
Turkey hunting with his pappy
The dogs let loose into the marsh
Birds flew out, and guns went off
The end result was rather harsh
Willie Joe jumped first at nothing
Shot at turkeys in the air
First shot missed, but hit a target
He'd shot Jim Joseph in the ear
Time to call the Country Preacher
A service needed to be done
The end result was up to Jesus
At the wrong end of a country gun
Jolene was all set for college
Had a baby on the way
One quick fling in the hay with Joseph
There was nothing left for her to say
Joseph stood and did deny it
Said that Jolene told a lie
Jolene's daddy got his shotgun
And with no wedding, Joseph'd die
Time to call the Country Preacher
A service needed to be done
The end result was up to Jesus
At the wrong end of a country gun
The wedding went off without trouble
Both families were there in force
Jolene's dad had brought his shotgun
The best man was old Joseph's horse
The moonshine flowed like holy water
There was no jar that wasn't filled
And through it all, poor pregnant Jolene
Wondered who would end up killed
Time to call the Country Preacher
A service needed to be done
The end result was up to Jesus
At the wrong end of a country gun
The preacher preached and people listened
Amened here and there throughout
A few well placed hallelujahs
Praise the lord was heard no doubt
All dressed in black with eyes just shining
He couldn't have done smiled more
For who in town knew that the preacher
Owned the gun and ammo store?
Time to call the Country Preacher
A service needed to be done
The end result was up to Jesus
And the preacher would refill the gun.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 10:22 PM UTC
Wal, Thanksgivin’ do be comin’ round.
With the price of turkeys on the bound,
And coal, by gum! Thet were just found,
Is surely gettin’ cheaper.
The winds will soon begin to howl,
And winter, in its yearly growl,
Across the medders begin to prowl,
And Jack Frost gettin’ deeper.
By shucks! It seems to me,
That you I orter be
Thankful, that our Ted could see
A way to operate it.
I sez to Mandy, sure, sez I,
I’ll bet thet air patch o’ rye
Thet he’ll squash ’em by-and-by,
And he did, by cricket!
No use talkin’, he’s the man—
One of the best thet ever ran,
Fer didn’t I turn Republican
One o’ the fust?
I ‘lowed as how he’d beat the rest,
But old Si Perkins, he hemmed and guessed,
And sed as how it wuzn’t best
To meddle with the trust.
3.3k
Christmas countdown has begun and family members are on the run
Looking for the bargains everywhere, and how they get it they don’t care.
All the retailers have put up their displays
As they prepare for Christmas day.
Grocery stores and supermarkets with their specials on the floor
And in every aisle there are treats galore.
Turkeys and hams, candied yams too- all the treats just for you.
Department stores and shopping malls- filled with shoppers wall to wall.
The children are in total awe as they look from store to store.
And every new item that’s on TV. In the stores for them to see.
Yes! The Christmas countdown has begun. And the children
Are preparing for the fun, from bicycles and dolls and all the rest
Knowing they’ve gotten all the best.
Look around; look around, the Christmas spirit is all around.
MERY CHRISTMAS TO ONE AND ALL, THIS IS THE SEASON TO HAVE A BALL!
©L.RAMS 112214
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
Let’s get hysterical.
Let’s go mad
About the Winter Solstice passing
And our football team winning.
We party hard
For Christmas and New Year.
The Americans do Thanksgiving too.
Bad times for turkeys
Great days for making sales.
Anniversaries, birthdays and Celebrity celebrations,
Big Brother and Get Me Out of here.
X Factor and Lithuania’s Got Talent.
All excuses
For making mayhem
And a fast buck.
Any present will do
No matter how useless
Or banal
At times like these.
Compulsory enjoyment
Even if you’re ill.
Oh what sheep we are.
(Apologies to sheep).
We must conform
Comply
Follow fickle fashion
And hug the herd.
We may be social animals,
But woe betide anyone
Who is
Different.
“Be yourself” they say,
But do they mean it?
Course not.
The “Individual” is cursed,
Cast out
A *****
It’s time to stand back,
See the truth
And find your inner soul.
Break the brainwash,
Defy the dictators
The Nanny State
And really,
Really
Be You.
Paul Butters
© PB 1\1\2019.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 6:03 AM UTC
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
I can read…donkey as I am,
I can read
Where did I learn to read?
they taught me at home,
they taught me at school
they taught me at the camps and retreats
and at all the Assemblies and Gatherings
and at various Thought Adjustment Programs
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
I can read…donkey as I am,
I can read and I can recite
They trained me well to recite
and to memorize and to regurgitate
and to repeat and repeat and repeat
at the Houses of Prayer
the Holy Ones stood before us
and they trained us, they drilled us
thousands and thousands of us
and millions and millions of us
and through years and years
and centuries and centuries
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
No variation, no change, just -
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
they trained us well at Animal Farm –
word for word, repeat and repeat and repeat
and when in doubt, we have our Great Leaders
Pigs for Pigs, Goats for Goats, Turkeys for Turkeys
and Donkeys for Donkeys
who will speak for us
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
so must you, if you should be pure,
if you should be saved
if you should see the Truth
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
I can read, I can recite, I can repeat
*Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw
Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw*
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 6:24 PM UTC
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
The time of magic and fun
A time when there’s a chill in the air
Apples abound along with scents of cinnamon
Carved jack o lanterns
Faces etched creatively
Candles lit
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
The beginning of the holiday season
When cookies are baked
Pies made
Children dress up in costumes
Seeking a reward of candy and other goodies
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of celebration
A time of remembering
Good friends
Families
And traditions
Where turkeys are roasted
Sweet potatoes baked
Cranberries served
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of holiday cheer
Hot chocolate
Apple cider
Herbal tea
And peppermint
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
A time of snow falls
Sledding
Snowball fights
Laughter and glee
Trees decorated
It’s getting to be pumpkin time
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 11:31 AM UTC
Northern Michigan has got some pretty twisted people but call themselves decent, God faring Christians. Copy pasting two typical posts on rants & raves forum exchanged between two typical Northern Michiganders. Not like them but think they are weirdos and get a good old belly laugh at the ignorance in the good old deep south errrr, I mean northern michigan. We got spared today from reading that Obama was chief ***** head but did get to read his racist post faking being American Indian.
From northern michigan craigslist poster #1
RE; Curious in Fairview (TC)
You sure were quick to figure out what "passes for" debate on this place.
Good Job!
Here's what I do....first, I don't give a hoot what any of them say or do to my posts.
The name calling, and personal bashing are simply humorous to me. Truthfully though, I sometimes egg them on....It simply helps prove that the common IQ level
is somewhat ( ???? ) LOW!
Secondly---"Chief Itchybutt" is the ONLY one worth reading---he tells some
pretty incredible stories....he should probably write a book in my opinion.
As for all the rest of the spew---let it roll off your back like water on a wet
duck...just read it and be glad your not one of "them"...
Advice from:
YBBB--the one, the only!
Craigslist poster #2 with pic of Obama with huge photoshopped lips.
Special for Bob, a deer hunting story (in my woods)
Ugg! How! Chief IIttccheebutt of the Neverwiippee Tribe here to tell all what I see in woods hunting for deer, Ugg! Me go out with boomstick early in morning when turkeys are on roost to sit by deer trail to **** a buck.Very windy out, see no deer, me not even see a tree rat with fuzzy tail. Me wait and wait and wait, still no deer. It get dark now so me go in and try next day. Next day come, same thing,no deer, me think I pick a different spot tomorrow. Tommorrow come and I sit by the edge of a big field with sand holes and short grass with flags in little holes, it very quiet and me hear leaves crunching, me crouch down and get gun ready. Noise get closer and closer then it stop so I look out from behind tree and put gun down and pick up I-phone and snap pic of most stupid looking buck me ever see... then me start big belly laugh, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Ugg! How!
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
If bedbugs become pets~ is there a possibility~someone is spending to much time in the sack~and not stepping out into what the Real World~ "Offers Up"~even tho the Bedbugs seem more friendly..... If you Cry over White onions~why cry over the Red one ? ? Turkeys Trot to a dance taught by man~Pretending to be foxes~always close to the tail . A Truly honest man~Would~Not be believed~if it weren't for the Falsehoods that Truly exist ! ! Staples when firmly pressed~Usually hold things together~SO___What makes these staples unworthy of being served up at dinner ? Ever think about yard sticks? ~ and How Come your neighbors don't have any sticking up~ and your the only one that meets the measure. . . POE only hinted at the torment of Modern man~Stories in Stupors don't find the center of the heart~ Unless they are really experienced . . It's sorta like being poured into a Landfill~But like a Good Cork~You can't seem to sink all the way~Your head just bobbing above~and continually being that ready target~as additional waste'PILES AROUND ! ! It's like walking into a familiar room~But as you turn on the light switch~you discover~that you are now the "Stranger"~in a strange place. . Life is like a Trampoline~casting ones thoughts up and down for review~NOT considering that some may be actually measuring the values presented. . *The *Broken heart of a man'who loves the woman who opened that door~ May Never be receptive to repair~NOT ENOUGH PARTS LEFT ! ! As the Lights "Come-On"~ it's like being at the Helm of the 'TITANIC" ~ assured that all others are off safely~__AND~ the Shaking of Life Begins .......
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 4:43 PM UTC
Summer field at rest; alive.
We stopped haying twenty-five years past.
Birds and bugs, golden rod and asters and
Worts, spiders, voles make it their home. We mow
Once a year.
And it breaks my heart. Good-by flowers for
Honey bees. Cover for warblers,
Mama turkeys and broods. Bedroom for deer.
Hidden lunch room for ground hogs
Until Jack Russell breaks their necks,
At least of the little ones.
Old hog mama requires my intervening shovel.
Otherwise she'd shred Jack's face.
9/23/2012
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 12:59 PM UTC
born of blood
from a thorn
of a beautiful flower
from the love
of the horned
adorned
in power
cowering
in the vicious
maliciousness
of the constituents
in the deliverance
to my ridiculousness
saw
twisted shapes
and contorting faces
heard
blurred words
displaced
in hateful slurs
of aggression
and i cannot count the cases
in my tasteless confessions
in my reluctant concessions
in my brutal perfection
of my obsessions
imposed against my will
you're supposed to feel
what they do
right?
opposed to killing
for the thrill
but it sometimes
just feels right
shanky gone unscrupulous
shivering
his shimmied
blood on the walls
stuttering stanleys
still silly stringing
calling for candy
but missed last call
and fell to the floor
as Bruno butchered the boar
in a deplorable fashion
a crime of passion
we were hungry
rubbing our tummies
for the honey
of bee hives
jive turkeys
turning to bunnys
for good times
but we were alive
while others were not
fraught with darkling majesty
sparkling at the seraded points
disjointed
in Freudian
ointments
self anointed
as god
standing over
some butchered
brod from abroad
wiping the fog
of dislodged
eye sockets
from my grog
how you get
from there to here
isn't really a fair mirror
on my intention
i meant to
suspend her
just enough
to face f--k
and with luck
strangle her
but she prayed to be ripped down
in her own way
my f--king way
stripped her
of dignity
wimpering
in little cute sounds
who am i?
but the guy
who spaced
hit her
too many times in the face
and replaced her
facelessness
with ***** toiletries
disappointingly
underwhelmed
still in search of a fairy
to take the helm
and ferry me
from this film
disparagingly
just spare me
the tragedy and grief
blaring from the TV
as i mock
their expressions
in my lessons
of humanity
before the flock
to shelter
my anxiety or not
gonna be
a real boy one day
and conform
to the
wayward ways
the way
of sheep
sleeping
soundly
in decay
blue fairy
gonna
marry me
one
day
be
real
one
day
one
day
1
d
a
y
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
#
***The twilight clouds
went scudding past
like witches on their brooms.
The sound of laughter
filled the night
as ghouls departed tombs.
"Trick or treat!"
resounded
as menageries filed by...
Filling up their bags with loot
while candy stores ran dry.
Dentists filled appointments books
in brisk anticipation...
Knowing that enamel
would not stand
such laceration.
Zombies stagger down the street
and vampires trip on capes.
Power Rangers, Ninja Turtles,
Frankenstein escapes!
Princesses and knights with swords,
mummies by the score...
Ghosts and goblins saunter by
and darkened homes ignore.
Masks of every shape and type
monsters and the like...
Arriving via motor pool
on foot, skateboard and bike.
Kids of every age invade
demanding tribute thus...
(Oh dear...
here comes another group
arriving on a bus.)
People donning hobo clothes
adorned in eye-holed sheets...
Wearing out the doorbells
on the darkened,
porch lit streets.
Jack o lanterns
hiss and spit
as candles soon expire.
Children head back home
to count their swag
and then retire.
At last
the tempest peters out.
The pageantry is gone.
I look out
at the candy wrappers
littering the lawn.
Another Halloween is done.
I hope they had their fill.
"Trick or treat!"
still resonates
I hear its echoes still.
But... just around the corner
as Thanksgiving season nears...
We hear the spiels and ads
of all the rabid marketeers.
Turkeys gobble restlessly
at axes sharp and keen...
For them...
this is a nightmare...
just another Halloween.***
#
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
My work site is climate controlled,
No Pigeons threaten my peace.
Of all of my gigs, this one is the best,
no acid rain scours my cheeks.
Yes, it is boring at times;
stuck in the Louvre, night and day,
but, as I’m a creature of Marble,
I cannot run outside and play.
Instead I’ve become an observer
of the tourists who whisper and gawk.
That girl with nice ***** is from Paris,
that fat little guys’ from New Yawk.
I pose for their pictures for free
as they snap up some memories for home.
My maker, long dead, was the master
who painted those frescoes in Rome.
Its hard to believe that the heirs
of the Renaissance men of my time
have gotten so fat and complacent,
gorging on fast food and cheap wine.
pig like are their fat chubby faces.
They prate like some fatuous child.
They are, compared to their forebears,
like butterball turkeys to wild.
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 7:54 AM UTC
On the 12th day of Christmas
My troubles gave to me........
12 unpaid bills
11 ringing cash tills
10 packets of batteries
09 invites to parties
08 year olds a screaming
07 unwanted toys redeeming
06 packets of dog biscuits
05 unwanted parking tickets
04 overdrawn credit cards
03 strange looking leotards
02 forgotten to buy turkeys
And a garage for those car keys
Nov 29, 2010
Nov 29, 2010 at 3:03 PM UTC
What if,
the moon and stars appeared on sunny skies
well, i've seen God's wisdom, they're fine the
way they are, their time, their distance, their
glittering presence.....their habit of twinkling
at night, not day, is justified, they're lovelier
more dazzling on a darker blue sky.....i gaze
at them in awe, no words uttered...just sighs.
also, i've
seen God's wisdom about life's many roads.
i'm fine, i have survived......earthly existence
is decked with many paths........busy, or less
traveled...always lead to new ones, after the
other, then to another......life goes on.......it's
where, it's when, the day's challenges start.
so....
i leave the house...start my daily trek in life
prioritizing familial and personal errands
i walk right to the corner.....to where noisy
turkeys turn so red, when i get close to the
fence...to my left, the open road.....peopled
noisy...busy, humming with activities...my
connection to the world outside the village
rain or shine, day or night, if i need to hear
breaths of life...of noise, a tad of change in
atmosphere, cups of good coffee, a bowl of
soup and crackers, bond with good friends
bond with my Creator in a nearby church.
when
not too tired...i retrace my way back home.
God guides me....through long and faded
red unscrubbed sidewalks, grasping mossy
fences, lest i fall on slippery concrete...lest
i miss my quiet, my sacred space for good.
it's
never easy, finding God's wisdom, in pain
and suffering.......yet after each road taken
i gaze at the dark blue sky.....tell the moon
and quivering stars................"i'll be fine."
Sally
Copyright October 18, 2017
rrab
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
Off in the distance
you could see the clouds forming
a blanket of white
on a canvas of blue
the wind was beginning
to give birth to some devils
and what was to come
only hardened men knew
"cut loose the horses"
let them run wild
we'll get them all later
when the storm
has passed through
they'll be safe in the canyon
the ones that aren't broken
the devil is coming
and the sky still showed blue
lock down the horse barns
and lock up the cattle
the wind is beginning
it'll be here real soon
out in the desert
when the wind starts to howling
it'll bring up the dust
and it'll block out the moon
The temperature dropped
and the sky had changed colour
the blue was now gone
it was now kind of grey
the clouds were still forming
you could see there behind them
a funnel of black
the devil at play
once it gets going
nothing can save you
get inside fast
and hunker down low
there's a silence so eerie
before the train rumble
that only the older
cowboys do know
put out the fire
get low and stay hidden
the devils at play
and he'll tear you apart
the wind is his plaything
and you'll be his victim
he'll skin you alive
and he'll rip out your heart
the horses run wild
some may not make it
others will live
as they make for the caves
those we have broken
are at the mercy of nature
we'll know once we're done
just how many we saved
the wall of sand hit hard
a black sheet of horror
you could hear it outside
as it ripped at the wall
back in the corner
the young cowboys were shaking
the old one's stood guard
against the devil's strong call
for hours it raged
and it tore at the building
sand getting in
where the building gave way
nobody spoke
until early next morning
they just sat and watched
the devil at play
silence, just silence
meant the storm was now over
the door was thrown open
the devastation was seen
the corral was empty
but, for two wild turkeys
and there was a single dead horse
where the stable had been
the devil spoke loudly
he sent quite a message
the horses are mine
they run wild and run free
i'll keep the storms coming
this was the fourth in a decade
leave them to run
or you'll all deal with me
the old cowboys looked round
and they took in the damage
lit up a fire
and said thank god we're alive
we've made it through four
and we'll rebuild even stronger
if we ever can hope
to get through storm number five
the will of a cowboy
and the will of the devil
one is much stronger
it's as strong as the land
the devil will fight you
it's just in his nature
but, the cowboy will win
because he's part of the land
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
i know how to jump start a car and
i know thirteen different ways to light a fire and
i know that i sleep better when you're here.
i know how to make a pipe with an apple
and i know how to roll poplar bark into twine and
i know what you're afraid of.
i know that sometimes turkeys drown because they stand
with their heads thrown back in the rain.
i know all the state capitals and
i know all the books of the old testament in order and
i know how far you'd have to jump to be sure you didn't survive.
i know that my biggest fear was always the time stretched out between
today and the end and i know that
lately i am not so afraid.
i know it's at least a little bit
because of you.
i know that my lungs crave mountains
like my fingers crave dirt
like my hands crave yours.
i know how the world looks on your seventy second hour awake
and i know how thirteen tabs of acid feels and
i know how to steal things without getting caught.
i know how thirty-year-old hands squeeze
sixteen-year-old hips.
i know that ******** isn't a compliment.
i know deep breathing techniques,
calming rituals,
and numbers for help lines i'll never call.
i know that frogs breathe through their skin
and that sometimes
they die when you touch them.
i know that i do not breathe through my skin,
no matter how often i forget.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
I'm not forcing my lifestyle on you,
but what you're eating had emotions.
I'm not forcing my lifestyle on you,
but it's really not necessary for you to eat that at all.
I'm not forcing my lifestyle on you,
but, in order for you to eat that, we're killing the planet.
I'm not forcing my lifestyle on you,
but "free range" doesn't mean anything
and "grass fed" just means they had a bit of ground in their cages.
I'm not forcing my lifestyle on you,
but cows have best friends,
mother pigs "sing" to their babies,
and turkeys can play video games.
I'm not forcing my lifestyle on you,
it's just that it's super hypocritical to say you believe in animal rights
and are against animal cruelty
when there's a hamburger on your plate.
I'm not forcing my lifestyle on you,
you're ignoring me anyway.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
Found a discarded mince pie.
Left under the spineless Christmas tree.
Picked it up and ate it.
It was still in the box.
The date said fresh and fresh it was.
Yum, she thought let’s eat.
Was so delicious, yes it was.
Enjoyed it oh so very much.
One problem with her mince pie sweet.
The pastry crumbled, what a mess.
Sweet reflection of Christmas.
So recently passed.
When on her own she had a blast.
The turkeys are fed up.
Only one or two remain.
Said goodbye to all their friends to breed and breed again.
Thanks given for their friends.
Waiting for next Christmas to visit.
(c) Livvi
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
the crackling howl of jackals
thrice fooled by
the thick dessert mirage of
wild turkeys and red-neck pheasants
for the gathering of sunset
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC