To the One That Got Away

 To the One That Got Away


I wasn't fishing for a good time
when you feel into my lap
I needed some time
time to relax
I was cozy in my chair
I fell into a nap

You startled me
from my doze
I saw your face
I woulda rose
but your beauty
froze me in that stupid pose

And just like that
you were gone
So I woke up one morning
and wrote this country song
I need her back in my arms
that's the place where she belongs

If I saw her again
I would say
"Hello darlin'
why don't 'cha stay?
I'll make you dinner
be your sunshine ray
There's no need to stray
when I hold you tight
keep them wolves at bay.
So darlin'
Woulda say?"

Now each night
'for I go to bed
I look up at the man
overhead

and i said

"Dear Jesus
I'm an honest man
Just some things
I don't understand
Since she can't
be in my arms
won't 'cha steer
her free from harm?
Be her guiding light
Wash her tears
tuck her in at night
If you do that
I can live alright.

OH it's a sad sad day
I sing the song
about the one that got away
OH it's a sad sad day
she woulda made for a pretty good fillet

West Virginny no way no how

I couldn't fit in all of the stereotypes of the fine folks of West Virginia, but I tried. 

(September 2012)

you won't find me

in west virginny

with no quarter to my name

you won't find me

in west virginny

kissing my dear brother's dame

you won't find me

in west virginny

i done took the train

arms wrapped up around

my dear brother's dame

out in the holler

i'd run moonshine for the boys

daddy twanged the banjo

and I joined him in the noise

sat on the porch

with my dear fiddle

daddy sang a lot

and I sang a little

the youngin's was dancin'

the tallest in the middle

brother was missing

it wasn't a riddle

out in the holler

brother shootin' dear

daddy twanged the bajno

smellin' dinner comin' near

yonder in the holler

to feed his family

chase them doe eyed deer

in his dear appalachy

threw the kill in a sack

threw it on it's back

onto the dirt floor

of our one story shack

we all was happy

we could taste

the sappy blood of bambi

we ran to the latrine

and called upon our daddy

daddy twanged the banjo

brother skinned the deer

it weren't quite dead

and brother lost an ear

ran off into the woods

to resume her life

brother cursed a lot

she took off with his knife

buried in her thick hide skin

it was a present from his wife

down at the table

no one sayin' grace

all were quiet

no smiles on their face

we dug in to our meatless stew

and i suddenly felt displaced

i said when i was young

that when i grew taller

i have a pretty dollar

run off with

my uncle's daughter

and out this holler

so i grabbed my brother's wife

our first cousin jess

hopped on a train

and forgot about this mess

we'll make a family of our own

move to the city

into a mobile home

i'll work nights

leave you and the twins alone

living in sin

living with ma kin

if i had another dollar

i'd do it all again

goodbye west virginny

goodbye for now

goodbye west virginny

won't come back

no way no how.

Working class clown

My inspiration for this is Bob Dylan's Subterranean Homesick Blues

 

what a pity
living in the city
when you're no longer pretty
situation's shitty
when you ain't seen a titty
since 1950
lost my job

just baby sitting kitty

people with the wealth stare

when I dig through the trashcan

out in my underwear
can't afford no food
so i go on the welfare
pain in the ass
but i can't afford no health care

moved back with my family
just turned 43
ma's on hand and knees
dirtying up her dungarees
i sleep on the couch till 2 or 3

dad works nights at the factory

he come on home yelling at me

'fucking bum

get a job
'for i get my gun
don't care if yer my son
don't walk

when ya gotta run!'

kicked out the union
stealing wine at communion
pass the bottle around
at the unemployment line reunion

'hey steve hey bob
did you hear 'bout our friend rob?
moved out to cali
changed his name to sally
living all alone
tugging guys in an alley

'what about bill the model
his last dollar won the lotto
so he took to the bottle
he can't walk
he can only hobble

'speaking of the bottle
pass the wine.
i'm next in line

When I was a trucker

Maria didn't care too much for this country western dedicated to her
 

(August 2011)

at a truck stop diner

when i need a break

you're that shiny beacon

that nice t-bone steak

the center of attention

in the middle of my plate

i spurned the potato

and asked for more of you

she asked if i wanted more gravy

i said i do

like soul food and your ribs

i stick to you like glue

living this life

out here on the road

you remind me of everything

hauling 18 wheels

and a helluva load

i hit the gas

i'm horny as a toad

you're the courtesy flush

at a rest area bathroom

after i've done my deed

you're the cherry twizzlers

dropping from the vending machine

you're the dirty pictures

from a well loved magazine

you're a fresh pack of marlboros

shiny white and red you gleam

you're the wind in my face

when i have the windows down

you're the tobacco juice on my face

when the wind turns it around

you're the $2 whore

when i'm new in town

you're the skid row motel

where that lady drowned

they had a shallow pool

she didn't make a sound

because she was bound

but i woke up

and realized it was all a dream!

my trucking life

was make believe!

i am but a man

who's found his queen

you're the itch in my balls

the cat in my calls

you're at the end of my halls

all along

the paint on my walls

I love you girl.

Orangutan

 

Orangutan

March 2011

it's simply a fact

an orangutan

would look silly in a hat

it's paramount to what,

rhyming with that

this topic you choose

quite a few questions arose

without futher adeiu

some contemporary orangutan prose

does an orangutan dream

sweet orangutan dreams?

does an orangutan king

have an orangutan queen?

is an orangutan life

quite serene?

or quite the contrary,

and ungodly obscene?

where might i find

an orangutan of mine own?

where on this earth

do they find themselves a home?

perhaps it's the sahara

they happily roam

alongside a lioness, her furry tiara

perhaps altogether a different time zone!

maybe in asia?

against the mighty backdrop

of jagged himalaya?

by chance nothing short of apparitions,

caricatures in fantasia

are orangutans vicious creatures,

or kind hearted

with the noblest of features?

are there orangutan farmers,

orangutan preachers and teachers?

are they orange

as their name could suggest?

are they hard to please

or easy to impress?

would an orangutan look out of place

in a yellow summer dress?

is an orangutan secular

or is there an orangutan god?

does an orangutan bask in the sun

glistening hot orangutan bod?

if i had an orangutan,

surly i'd name him todd

if you called an orangutan by name,

would they be quick to follow?

would an orangutan hamburger

be too difficult to swallow?

eager orangutan youths

lustful orangutan cahoots

knocking sweet sweaty

orangutan boots

do orangutans live amongst the trees?

dangling orangutan knees

infested with fleas

one bite

orangutan disease!

bittersweet orangutan fait accompli

would an orangutan jester

violently struggle

if someone threw him bananas

and forced him to juggle?

does an orangutan couple

have proclivity to snuggle,

or is orangutan romance

particularly subtle?

as far as orangutans

and what they eat

are they herbivores

or are allowed the meat?

is it true,

they eat with their feet?!

aging wise orangutan philosophers

chastise middle aged female orangutan gossipers

whilst building thrones to famous orangutan pickpocketers

in orangutan slumber

is it a procession of terrible snores,

or do they sough like the breeze

and offer nothing more?

orangutan ghosts,

haunting orangutan folks?

simple orangutan hoax?

an old orangutan joke!!

baby orangutans

make a great orangutan poke

a dozen orangutan hides

for my orangutan coat

orangutan bones

for my orangutan boat

orangutan blubber

keeps it afloat

orangutan chum

in my alligator moat

but don't worry!

orangutans love being poached!

welp, it's no longer a mystery,

that's orangutan history!

Perhaps I'll be fashionable, when I'm old and gray

 

My inspiration for this is an older, well dressed gentleman who roams about my neighborhood

Perhaps I'll be fashionable, when i'm old and gray

tailored suits

don't suit

a body like me

perhaps they'd suit

anybody

but me

perhaps when

i'm old and gray

i'll don

a suit of gray

perhaps a bowtie

and a cane

to match my sway

perhaps i'll don

a top hat

when the kids have gone away

yes i will be fashionable

each and every day

Crayola

This is my lady's favorite one.  I haven't read it since I wrote it.  I could be so romantic.   She gave me the crayon as a topic for a poem

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Crayola

(Summer 2011)

If I had a colored crayon

To draw a picture

Of the most beautiful girl in the land

I would place it in my heart and

in my hand.

For her hair,

Be it most fair

I shall use a brown and a yellow.

Peach for her stomach

I use as a pillow.

It’s blue that I drew

To paint the dress

Precipitously dangling

From her brown freckled neck.

Lips pink as hibiscus

I vociferously peck.

The freckles I mentioned

Strewn like mahogany stars

All the way down to her knee

Her carnation scar.

Grey her busy eyes

Tiny cloud wrinkled skies

Red, rosy cheeks

Like ketchup on your fries.

A baiting smile

Teeth so ivory white

Like a crescent moon

Broken in the night.

In the faint incandescent dim

Of the bar we sat

Chocolate brown bellows

From the black Guinness tap.

Her cardinal tongue exposed

of the froth, she playfully laps.

For all the colors that she shows

She has an iridescent glow

Crayola cannot rightfully know.

Concerning Fire Hydrants

 

Concerning fire hydrants

March 2011

the water streaming

violently in its throes

the spectators jaws

affixed and frozed

a fight is being waged

and it's this location it chose!

but only a minute ago

you cursed it's existence

at an impasse

and through with persistence

you cursed and swore

because the sign denied you admittance!

"oh why can't i find parking??!"

you outlandishly cry

"and why is that dog barking??"

and the dog let out a sigh

I'm worth the trouble

From time to time I'll craft witty and original country westerns.  Sometimes they may even be remarkable.  Sometimes they maybe aren't even country westerns but something approaching poetry.  Here's a little ditty I wrote to ma lady, it's called I'm worth the trouble.  

i'm worth the trouble

(April 2012)

come bail me out

i'm worth the trouble

it wasn't me

only my evil double.

i haven't shaved

nor behaved

but stick with me

and my lonesome stubble.

come fix me up

when i'm in my rubble

i ain't complicated

like the telescope hubble

so stick with me

i'm worth the trouble.

when i come home so drunk

i can barely stumble

when i can't speak words

i can only mumble

stick with me

i'm worth the trouble.

i'll take you places

by that i mean

the dog track for the races

i'll spend your money

but don't ya worry honey

i'll say something funny

and when i do

you'll realize

i'm worth the trouble.

i got no ambition

but i bought you kittens

look into their eyes

and you'll realize

i'm worth the trouble.