Impulse of the day
by GC
Again,
upon awakening
I realized
my heart still
beats
Poetry, prose, and other stuff meant for the reader's enjoyment. Web page at: Click here. My novels are White Lightning, The Carbon Steel Caress, In Good Faith, and Mudbug Tales; A Novel in Flashes, wit' recipes. My poetry book is A Southern Boy's Meanderings. CLICKY My webpage:
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Duh!
Scatterbrain
by GC
Dumb as a rock
never knows what he wants
nor how to get there
should he garner a clue
Dumb as a rock
he's neither here nor there
but stuck somewhere between
a hardplace and a stone
Dumb as a rock
he screwed up again
putting left on the right
leaving right far behind
Dumb as a rock
never prepared
he takes life as it comes
and it frequently goes
He'll not get ahead
'cause his head's up his ...
stuck there in darkness
not to see light of day
by GC
Dumb as a rock
never knows what he wants
nor how to get there
should he garner a clue
Dumb as a rock
he's neither here nor there
but stuck somewhere between
a hardplace and a stone
Dumb as a rock
he screwed up again
putting left on the right
leaving right far behind
Dumb as a rock
never prepared
he takes life as it comes
and it frequently goes
He'll not get ahead
'cause his head's up his ...
stuck there in darkness
not to see light of day
Monday, January 17, 2011
Damn Chicken's Back
by GC
Chicken
and 'shrooms
in a red sauce,
a spicy repast,
and that last
series of
BURPs!
brought it
all back
again
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Gone awry
It's dark in here
by GC
Somewhere, some how
we got it wrong
Two point four million
schizophrenics wander the streets
They fear the voices
they fear their urges
They're alone,
compelled to darkest deeds
We go about our daily routines
ignoring anguished cries from city streets
Then, horror of horrors
bullets fly – innocents die
Where are we as a Nation
have we abandoned rationality
We should be a society bathed in light
but, it sure is dark in here
by GC
Somewhere, some how
we got it wrong
Two point four million
schizophrenics wander the streets
They fear the voices
they fear their urges
They're alone,
compelled to darkest deeds
We go about our daily routines
ignoring anguished cries from city streets
Then, horror of horrors
bullets fly – innocents die
Where are we as a Nation
have we abandoned rationality
We should be a society bathed in light
but, it sure is dark in here
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Brrrrrr!
Bad Latitudinal Attitude
by GC
Colder than
brass monkeys;
witches tits;
the fringe around
a polar bear's bottom
Shakin' like an Aspen
in the Colorado rockies;
shakin' like a pup
shittin'
a peach pit
this ain't the South
I bargained for,
no siree, it ain't
an' I ain't
pleased
by GC
Colder than
brass monkeys;
witches tits;
the fringe around
a polar bear's bottom
Shakin' like an Aspen
in the Colorado rockies;
shakin' like a pup
shittin'
a peach pit
this ain't the South
I bargained for,
no siree, it ain't
an' I ain't
pleased
Some of the people, some of ....
Illusion
by GC
Who, if not me
is the one to be
the leader of the pack
the brains behind the deal
the guiding hand upon the wheel
Who, if not he
is who you all see
as an ego big as a house
with brain small as a mouse
that leads him to believe himself
by GC
Who, if not me
is the one to be
the leader of the pack
the brains behind the deal
the guiding hand upon the wheel
Who, if not he
is who you all see
as an ego big as a house
with brain small as a mouse
that leads him to believe himself
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Other Self
Who Is Me
By Bruno *
The woods are my domain
where I cavort and gambol
on spring and summer days
that’s me, my other self
Looking for the honey pot
takes up my waking hours
and when I find the honey
I sure enjoy myself
That other me, the bear
stakes out his territory
leaving little lumps behind
signature of who I be
When winter’s winds
chill this fuzzy bear
i burrow into my den
other self snug and warm
Then it’s deep loud snores
all the chill winter through
till spring comes once again
to release my other self
* aka: Jerry, GC, Gerard C
By Bruno *
The woods are my domain
where I cavort and gambol
on spring and summer days
that’s me, my other self
Looking for the honey pot
takes up my waking hours
and when I find the honey
I sure enjoy myself
That other me, the bear
stakes out his territory
leaving little lumps behind
signature of who I be
When winter’s winds
chill this fuzzy bear
i burrow into my den
other self snug and warm
Then it’s deep loud snores
all the chill winter through
till spring comes once again
to release my other self
* aka: Jerry, GC, Gerard C
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Barely Poetry
Because I'm a Bear In a Person Suit
by GC
I'm procribed from shitting the woods
which is something that the Pope can do
but not proper for a well mannered bear
I'm not allowed to slurp away at the honey
or tear into raw fish flesh or blood red meat
Must I use Emily Post manners and dab with a linen napkin
I cannot burp or fart at will
I must lock me in with porclean fixtures
and wipe, and flush, and wash my paws
And when it comes to women folk
well, rutting, simply is not done
so I don't know how I'll get me some
I don't know about this proper life
why I must have sissy citified manners
'cause person suit ot not I'm still a bear
by GC
I'm procribed from shitting the woods
which is something that the Pope can do
but not proper for a well mannered bear
I'm not allowed to slurp away at the honey
or tear into raw fish flesh or blood red meat
Must I use Emily Post manners and dab with a linen napkin
I cannot burp or fart at will
I must lock me in with porclean fixtures
and wipe, and flush, and wash my paws
And when it comes to women folk
well, rutting, simply is not done
so I don't know how I'll get me some
I don't know about this proper life
why I must have sissy citified manners
'cause person suit ot not I'm still a bear
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)