Time Misspent Lament, and Other Poems
Time Misspent Lament
Every day too short
to finish what I wish
Every day too filled
with taking sitz and pish
Too much sleep required
for constant overwork
Too much sleep a waste
like dancing when it’s twerk
Ev’ry brush of hair
or showering excesses
Ev’ry razor’s shave
swiped only to impress’us
Every phish that’s caught
on rod and reel electric
Every Trojan horse
deleted quite frenetic
Time goes by anon
without or with intention
Time cares not one whit
our thought or inattention.
Gone Like Last Summer's Flower
The roses are growing
Yellow and red
Where I’d cut them to the quick
bleeding leaves and petals
to the nub, away, away
My vines of grape, once
interlaced with backyard trees,
cut back
My friend, clippered away
chopped out of my life, roots pulled from the ground
that way
Won't see him again
gone like last summer’s flower.
But I Like Country Music
How many country singers never rode a tractor, they’re just actors
How many got no slang, just say “thang”
When putting on the cowboy drawl for you and me.
It’s ain’t she, don’t she, won’t she when they’re singin’ for their fans
And isn’t, doesn’t, yes won’t she when they’re talkin’ to their friends
Those private school kids turned yodelers
Playin’ music about hollers,
And sellin’ tix for concerts
To fifty thousand country-wanna-be’s.
But I like country music, the good old boys and gals.
I like when they talk about patriots and long lost letters, dyin’ kids, God and Country,
Dads and moms, the girl who got away
And drinking lemonade, on hot days waitin' for'er,
when I know they’re ackshully, truly drinkin’ beer.
But I love that country music, if you must really know the truth
Because I understand the words and hum the melody.
The stories ones I’ve felt myself, the people folks I’ve known
And I've had beer and called it lemonade myself.
I say ain’t and I ain’t country.
When hummin’ country song.
I’ll put on country airs for you and me.
Cause country’s unpretentious, something ordinary
Inside every boy and girl,
who ever missed each other
And every son who thinks about his dad.
Cause country’s elemental, it’s who we are inside
And the simple life we wish we could have had.
I think most country singers are the real authentic thang,
No matter if you've never roped a calf.
I think most of us just want to be as free as we can be
Meant to be
With whom we'd love to be
Liberty
For you and me.
I think most of us would love to live where people care
Less ‘bout corporate lifestyles
And more ‘bout Boy Scout Jamborees.
Yes, I love that country music, if you must really know the
truth.
Her family was her life, and now she’s past
My mom don't have a memoir to tell, no scrapbook to sell, no fairy tale.
She don’t have no funny bone, smart phone, tart cologne, no headstone.
Mom loved wildflowers, taking walks, reading books, her kids, grand kids.
Simple stuff.
Mom was taken fast, her God didn’t let it last.
She weren’t fancy, not classy, not flashy.
But love? For us? It never failed, didn’t trail, wasn’t veiled.
Her family was her life, and now she’s past.
Mom grew up poor, never swore, was honest to her core.
She never made no law firm partner, got no votes, walked no runway, no famous quotes
Mom was simple, saved her nickels, when I had pimples, we ate pickles.
Nah that’s not true, but it makes me smile
Cause Mom’s the sort, that’s her style.
I’ve missed her cautious, quiet care, her humble, introverted ways.
Mom loved wildflowers, taking walks, reading books, her kids, grand kids.
Simple stuff.
But Mom was taken fast, her God didn’t let it last.
She weren’t fancy, not classy, not flashy.
But love? For us? It never failed, didn’t trail, wasn’t veiled.
Her family was her life, and now she’s past.
Yep, passed.
But present....
And future....
