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Hands May 2010
I can't stop this
Jittering of the wrists,
Maniacal half-splat
Splutterings of the gist.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Up and down again,
1 and, 2 and, 3 and
Works 'til measure ten.
I cut down time,
And do it once more;
1 and, 2 and, now chime,
Notes shatter on floor.
I splitter,
I splutter,
While Mister
Just mutters
My horrible,
Dreadful mistakes;
One more take,
So try it again.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Jee jee, eff eff, eeh,
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
See see, eff sharp, bee.
Ay, bee, ay-
F SHARP
SCREAMS THE OFT WRONG HARP
OF JITTERING FINGERS
AND PIANO FARTS ENRAGED
WHILE MOVING UP AND DOWN
WHITE AND BLACK KEYS
FURIOUSLY ENGAGED.
BUT CUT THE TIME
AND DO IT AGAIN.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Keep thumb under hand,
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Though left hand's undermanned.
"More fingers, more,"
It sputters into the night,
While sore fingers, sore,
Start a whole new blight.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Now 4 and
Rest.
Everything is winding down,
Flushing away into soft,
Pianissimo serenades
Of sweet, sweet See-
BUT BEE FLAT
MAKES SEE RATS
EAT THEIR MOLDY FLESH,
BECAUSE BEE FLAT
TO SEE RAT
MAKES EVENING NOT SO FRESH.
Piano farts,
Just do it again.
1 and, 2 and, 3 and,
Now 4 and
Rest;
Second time through
Makes it the best.
Folks, I want to tell you a story
About some brave men, men who gave
          their lives
For the cause of Freedom, men who
          left wives
And children, so that people like you
          and me
Could breathe air rich with the glory
Of human sacrifice given for their
          fellow
Man: --- Folks, the story of the Alamo!

      In Eighteen hundred and Thirty-
          six,
In San Antonio, Texas,
A hundred and eighty-some-odd men,
In late winter of that year, would try
          to fend
Off some four thousand Mexican
          troops
At an old, former Catholic church
          called the Alamo.
Headed by the shrimp, Generalissimo
Santa Anna, the Mexicans, camped in
          groups
Around the makeshift fortress, were
          determined
To capture it, and it concerned them
Not whether the takeo'er was done
          thru surrender
Or destruction. The Texans would
          defender her,
Howe'er, down to the very last man,
And it would be the Alamo's last stand.
          ---

     The cause of the battle may be
          stated briefly
For it was a reason as old as
          Humanity:
A tyrant declares the freedoms of old
          are abolished
And his new powers must be
          acknowledged:
The Constitution of Eighteen twenty-
          four
Was swept away and replaced with a
          dictator sore:
The men of the Alamo then showed
         their defiance,
With God and Right for their Reliance.
         ---

     Now, tho the situation was
        hopeless,
And the Alamo was certain to fall,
Three fiercely independent men
        would stand tall,
And lead the defenders, and with a
         boldness
Hardly equaled in the annals of
         Human History,
They all valorously engaged the
         hateful enemy.
        
     Jim Bowie was there, knife and all,
Leading a rag-tag band of volunteers,
And tho he was sickly, bedrid, too, his
         peers
Would stand by him and come
         running to his call.
     Davy Crockett, a legend in his own
         time,
From Tennessee he came to fight
         alongside
The Texan Revolutionaries,
And become one of Law and Order's
         luminaries.
     William Travis, at age twenty-six,
         he
Was the young colonel, who, with the
         fateful breath
Of courage, laid down the sentiment
         tingly
Of all those Patriots with the fearless
         words, "Victory or Death!"

     Now, come Sunday, the Sixth of
         March, ere dawn,
In ice-cold weather, the hell-bent foe,
Prodded by a pulsating but fruitless
         siege
That caused not one of those gallants
         to cringe,
Launched a mindless, all-out assault
         on the Alamo.
With cannons and rifles flaring, with
         swords drawn,
Heroically, the men inside the battered
         mission
Were putting scores of Mexicans out of
         commission
As they greeted the tumultuous
         onslaught.
O! the bloodletting that was spilt as
         they fought!
The tidal wave of red uniforms scaling
The walls and being pushed back! --
         Failing! -- Failing! --
But then succeeding! as their great
         numbers
O'ercame the valiant but
         undermanned resistance.
Like an army of ants, the prodigious,
         pernicious persistence
Of the Mexicans paid off, as the
         Alamo's cumbers
They poured o'er. Hand-to-hand
         combat ensued,
 Until every single Texan stalwart was
         pursued,
And kilt! For ninety minutes, the Earth
         shook
On her axis, as the early mornin' Sun
         would brook
No interference of his sharp gaze
That on the momentous event he sent
         his rays
Faithful upon for want of deserved
         praise.

     The end had finally come: all the
         Texan
Warriors had died at the hands of the
         Mexican
Hostiles, but they did not perish
In vain! for, a deathblow was
         administered
On the abhorrent adversary --
         considered
One of the most repugnantly feverish
Armies e'er assembled -- in a
         Samsonian form,
For, for each Texan who the Jordan
         crossed and the Gates of Trust
Passed through, eight Mexicans bit the
         dust: ---
The Alamo fell, 'tis true, but Texas was
         born!

Now, my friends, no story about the
         Alamo would be complete
If the battle of the following month
         'twern't
Included: At the San Jacinto,
The Mexicans were taking a siesta,
When the Texan Army, under the
         tactical sheet
Of surprise, stormed them, and what
         that resting outfit heard,
Besides the fire of arms, was a war cry,
         cried
Louder and more powerful than that
         rising, sleepy-eyed
Belligerent could have e'er dreamed
         of, for --- lo! ---
It 'twere the God-like war cry of ... ----
         "Remember the Alamo!"

                         ---rmjt
John F McCullagh Apr 2016
Sickles' corps had broken; the Rebels had them on the run.
Hancock foresaw disaster; perhaps a worse one than Bull Run
How could he plug the gap in the line and rally men to stand?
"What Regiment is this? " he asked of Colville, in command.
The First Minnesota volunteers- they were sorely undermanned.


They were Lincoln's first volunteers, staunch Union men in Blue
Hancock ordered them to charge; a death sentence, they knew.
With bayonets fixed they made their charge outnumbered twelve to Two.

The Rebel regiments were shocked, disbelieving what they saw;
The company sized regiment who'd come through three years of war.
Canister ripped through their lines; there was no time to weep.
Five minutes Hancock needed; for that long their grief would keep.


This field knows many heroes; so many fought and bled.
But let us pause and honor these brave Minnesota dead.
They bought time for the General; the Union held the Ridge.
We might not have a country had they not done what they did.
on 7/2/1863 the 262 men of the First Minnisota volunteers charged into history buying with their lives the five minutes General Hancock needed to reform the Union Center and repulse the Rebel advance.
Only 47 me3n were able to answer the roll call on the morning of the third. The title of the poem is the motto of the regiment
wichitarick Jul 2016
So many silly songs about dreaming and leaving floating away into the night.

Making those others wanderings real time replacements of our own is now the task at hand.

Maybe not wanting a futuristic fantasy ,just seeking real time rest and not some real time fright

Daily preferences often end up as night time references ,settling into cracks even when we don't understand.

Simply sleeping  should not be a test,a weight so great it alone decides our fate new visions should remain in sight.

Limitless boundaries to explore why fade back when it can be blown forward,would seem the watchtower is undermanned.

Preparation while honorable is futile,stability's of a daytime mind not to be recognized in kind with an  unknown plight.

Domicile demeanor as fictitious play ,laying back into slumber but steadily the fires are being fanned .

Wincing while also adjusting as stability becomes convincing ,maybe the light is still to bright.

Moments added into hours ,the busy brain just devours burning calories in a mind as many memories are rammed.

Cycling from the first light, almost welcoming the daytime, any weakness hidden like a parasite.

Inner hostility playing pranks &  breaking ranks although placid when resting is the command .

Blind inner ambitions, bask behind barriers breaking out cleverly overnight.

Appeasement is uneasy ,living with a phantom is easier than trying to control
a demon ,much like a subliminal confidante. R.C.
Trying to get sleep patterns back on schedule might have brought this out? :(     I truly appreciate people reading my out put ,rambling. any in put is appreciated. thank you for reading Rick
I feel numb
no one hears the beat of my drum
Ill dance alone until i find the place that i come ;
from
Annoyed
isn't love grand
That thing that you'v been searching for
killing grains of sand
Exploring different lands
to leave with empty hands
My grievances expand
my ship is undermanned
Im lacking words for you
inside a bottle crammed
No plans
no tools
Just aching in the sun
don't wanna catch your feelings
You toss them and ill **r u n
I bend and I stretch
While making my move
It isn’t for all
Not mother approved
It’s falling in line
Or taking a stand
The promises, many
Yet we’re still undermanned
The focus distorted
Reverting back to the plan
To take over the world
And be king of the land
This aggrieved papa
of two progeny, (female)
holed himself in a
rigorously fortified fail
safe impregnable invisible monastery
barely room enough to exhale

decades before their conception,
when I hapt tubby
more hearty and hale,
though robust health a blessing -
this haint no rumored tattletail
inherited, aye oft womb min

eight if my embryonic stage
awaken as exultantly as Faneuil
Hall if late mull late mum's maternal
instincts intuited detail...
when during early/mid
April mcmlviii microscale,

and if reproductive event
(me) swelled her morale
inevitably genetics sported yours truly,
she did not put up for sale
though mentioned bajillion times before,
the psychological travail

inchoate grievous tell tale
manifestation begetting a male,
whose neurological wiring besmirched -
evidenced in throes of boyhood, a jail
assembled incrementally indestructible
******* paw pa, per entail

ling faux mutt heave puppyhood
bone a fide speculation assail
lent ruff lee size biochemical cell
cuz, ladder post utero development
exhibited tight as coiled spring hightail
ling ordinary bipedal locomotion,

whereat tenseness supposedly prevail
lent to tumble down stairs fail
ling balance even with handrail
explains being somewhat of a numbskull,
where existence analogous to wail
ling human flotsam - buoy lost at sea
rudderless and undermanned,
thus such speculation I avail.

— The End —