Bards and Brews Poetry


POEMS

The poets and poems here include:

Shaun Judah: Money Blue; Check Stub; Time and Time Again; Service

Shuanteka LaTrese Curry: Humanity; Dwelling Place

Glennwoodz: untitled poem that begins “Today I overheard a conversation…”

Prince Immanuel: Manic Depression/Bipolar

Cynthia Littleton: “Last Night”; “Nobody Says I Love You”; “If I Were Unattractive You Wouldn’t Hear a Word I Say”

Punky Burwinkle: First Day; Absolutely; Bingo Trial Week 6; Bob Dylan; Day Tripper; Getting Old; I dropped a coin; Splish Splash; The Sewer Blob; Mind Set

Money Blue

By Shaun Judah

Tell the millionaires

That we are all out of life lines

And that the waters are rising

Around already buckled knees

Bent backwards by bad budgeting

I mean overspending

Ok let’s just call this

Greed gone wild

Strip search your savings

Then shake your Assets

So they can take what you got

To the bank

That might fold or close

And I am doubled over from laugh cramps

Because they must have been joking

When they decided to ask broke people

For seven hundred billion

As a Band-Aid

For a decapitation

This could have been clotted

When it was a laceration

But the nation gave Satan

A second administration

And now we are all

Anticipating change

Wading in the waters rising

Around already foreclosed futures

We are drowning in deficits

Doggy paddling debt

Drifting further from the shore

And I am pretty sure that they

Saw the storm on the radar

Far sooner than they claimed

Now we pay for sins

Not perpetrated by us

Crucified like Christ for others

Financial transactions

Caught up in a spiraling credit crunch

Eating its way through

Picked pockets

And fallen markets

Sweeping away the currency

Toppling the walls

And saturating the streets

You see the flood gates are open

To interpretation

But who is to blame

This barely buoyant blue collar backbone

Or that crooked corporation conglomerate

Once again caught with

Its hands in the cookie jar

Paws off those chocolate chips

You guys got fat while everybody

Starved on the streets

But you can’t live off of

Federal reserves anymore

Because we are all in a jam

And now they want to save the economy

By rewarding the criminals

Guilty of jeopardizing its security

Freaking blood suckers

Done dropped the price of gas

So we can go to work

But raise the price of food

So we’ll work harder

We have borrowed and bartered

Our way into bad business adventures

And capital ventures with no gains

An auto industry on auto pilot

Set for self-destruction head on collision

Crash test dummies for money

And these sick suckers say

They need full blown aid

But that it may not pay off

They calculations were way off

Dividends rise and fall

As frequent as barometric pressure

In this storm

That we are forced to weather

Where there are no raincoats

And staying afloat

Is not as easy as building an ark

To navigate global liquidation

Another gestation period

Come and gone

And yet we still see no yield

Empty fields

Of once flourishing farmland

Mirror the planets hunger

Dying for a break

Looking to turn bleak to blossom

We are all pruning too much

To bear so little

Backlashes from cut backs

And slashed Wampum

Eye gouged prices

And we don’t see where

We are headed

Fumbling through the day

Losing yards and homes

The game has been rigged

We spend more on defense

Nickel and dime packages

Without a penny for thought

We wear the stories

Rabbit eared pockets

Blank expressions

Searching for a glimmer of hope

Working our fingers

Beyond bone

For quick loans

And easy money

Basically I just need to know

If I can borrow a couple million

Until this recession blows over

Shaun Judah © 2009

  • Check Stub

By Shaun Judah

Sweat, sweat blood, sweat blood

Till you sweat blood

Sweat, sweat blood, sweat blood

Till you sweat blood…

Because I so don’t feel like working

Salary or clock in punch drunk

Half an hour lunch break

And oh my God

We’re out of order more

Toner for the copier

Obviously there’s a dress code of conduct

Look smart and play the role

Professional criminals in cubicles

Can’t go unless they say

“More coffee Sir”

Spend twenty percent of the day

Pissing away decaffeinated deadlines

And you aint trying to stay late

Done sacrificed your life

Serving a work release sentence of

Seven to three equals eight hour stretches

For two to four years

With the possibility of promotion

For good behavior

Assorted flavors of creamer

The hardest choice to make

Because you made your bed at daybreak

Slapping the crap out of your overseer

Swinging your arm to silence radio snow

Searching for the snooze button

No break room so employee fumes

Evaporate into crowded office space

Huddled around heated conversation pieces

Or flipping through take-out menus

On the crapper

Praying for emergency cell phone calls

That you can’t hear anyway

Hoping for good, good, good!

Good vibrations

But the beach is a million work week

Days away

And vacation space is limited to tenure

First come first serve

And nothing rolls over

Got to raise hell for a raise

Of thirteen taxed pennies

And those bathroom stall doors never lock

So morning glories must fit in between

Self motivation speeches, after showers

Before starching the life out of slacks and shirt

Only to sweat

Sweat blood, sweat blood

Till you sweat blood

Sweat, sweat blood, sweat blood

Till you sweat blood

And I really don’t feel like fighting

To find space on the interstate

Waiting to make my move

Snaking ahead four whole feet

In front of the soccer mom

Who’s calling in to say she’s going to be late

And stopping daycare aged tantrums

Two rows back

Chilly morning but the windows are cracked

So that her cigarette smoke only

Wraps itself around the child’s face

And then dissipates

Rubber necking highway shoulders activity

And a montage of auto makes car horns

Rushed hour long conference calls

Maneuvering through motorists

Searching for a charger

Trying to get more bars

Trying to secure that job

For two more weeks of peanut wages

Relying on C.S. I. instincts to

Decipher facsimile pages

Cover sheet my ass

I aint going back upstairs

I swear I can hear my muscles tear

And workman’s comp-promise won’t cover

Insurance co-pay rates

Need a second job of limited duty

Behind a desk, in a closet

Filled with floor cleaning chemicals

And half a window

To look at more bricks

Holiday party at the boss’s house

To see gifts I can’t afford to be late

She give the good stuff away early

And I aint bringing nothing but an appetite

My hunger for job satisfaction

On the clock

On line filling out internet applications

Windows qualified but can only type

Twenty-five words every two to five minutes

Reworking resumes and praying for inside pull

And a numeralized place to park

The reason you took the position

In the first place

And the Jones’s just got that V-8 upgrade

So you Sambo shuffle in front of review boards

For more responsibility and less respect

Just to

Sweat, sweat blood, sweat blood

Till you sweat blood

For a Check Stub

Shaun Judah © 2007

  • Time and Time Again
  • By Shaun Judah

Time out

Time is up on wasting time

Time and time again trying

To stretch time because

Time is money, because your time is money,

Because my time is my money

And you’re messing up my money

When you’re wasting my time

See time stands still for no man

Yet man stands still

Watching time fly by

In front of the idiot box at prime time

At the same time of every night

Stuck in time warp with a very warped mind

Paying time no mind

But watching the clock tic tock

As we trick clocks

And clock time and a half for overtime

No time to think just time to write

So with every flick of the pen I try to seize time

Spending my time wisely trying to freeze time

Various people doing time for perusing crime

All the time

Five to ten in correctional pens

Remembering a time

When they were free

And calculating a time when that again shall be

Sixty seconds in a minuet

Sixty minuets in an hour

Twenty four hours in a day

Eighty six thousand four hundred seconds passed away

Thirty one million five hundred and thirty six thousand seconds

In one year

Time heals all wounds but time also brings tears

A time to live a time to day

Daytime night time

Now is the right time

For you to stop chasing time

Till there is no time left

Take some time to take care of yourself

Videos at six

Club at eleven

All this time feeding the flesh

But no time perusing Heaven

My mind roams through time zones

Through time travel

Fighting time is a no win battle but

Time and time again

Time strikes us in the chin

At the stroke of twelve the late night hour

Steps in

Swinging its arms around the clock

Until time stops

Time for an extended life battery

Understanding life is but a moment in time is reality

But men thinking they have all the time

In the world is a fallacy

Wasting time on dating blind and counting calories

Meanwhile the clock keeps on ticking

Time keeps on slipping

People running in place

Tripping over some seconds

Getting whoopins with

Timing belts throwing off their rhythm

Meanwhile

Seconds become minuets by the hour

And days give way to decades

And before you know it

Time has slipped away.

Shaun Judah © 2001

Service

By Shaun Judah

Yeah I served

I served with all I had

And I left it all there

I served everyone

Children,

Women,

Grown men,

Asians,

Klansmen,

I served

Without regard

Expecting nothing

But expectations

Spit at

Laughed at

And talked about

I served

And I still see the faces

The different shapes and ages

I served

With nothing to lose

No promises of gain

I lost so much by leaving

Best friend dead

Girlfriend dead

Hope dead

And I still can’t get a damn job here

I served

Trapped by lies

Bound by my word

I served

In the rain,

Sick

Home and physically,

A little beat up, but not abused

Mentally

Just a mind game

Disconnected

From all familiar

And these new people

Just don’t get me

I served in 5 am

Formations to piss in cups

With dogs in my room

No! You can’t go to his funeral

He was not immediate family

Though he was the only brother

I ever knew

My Godchildren

Don’t know me or their Daddy

Because…

I served

Lost the ability to trust

Because

Time away from a companion

Allows the mind some time to lust

And just get a taste

As I served

Protected freedom

Without the freedom

Needed to speak my mind

Unselfish I gave

In lands far, far away

I slaved

Still a nigga

Trained in communication

But wanted as a killer

I served next to skinheads,

Indians,

Guatemalans,

Lesbians,

Muslims,

Freedom isn’t free

Someone has to pay

We served

Became a motley crew

Adams family

Molded into Frankenstein

From parts unknown

Eldest sons

Only daughters

Mother, brothers, fatherless fathers

Marching towards Democracy

We served

A purpose we could not practice

I served myself

Doubt…ate it and refilled

The plate

Jumping states

I can’t stay still

Constant moving

Left, right, left, right

Lost in the shuffle

Grouped in a bundle

Of soldiers who gave all they had

That did all they could

The ultimate sacrifice of life

Yeah I served.

Shaun Judah © 2007

Humanity

by Shaunteka LaTrese

Pushing me pass my limits

I’m being infected with this

concept that lacks

reality

You see me standing in the

need of help!

to busy to let loose the

“God of Age” and share a

moment

You to busy flossing the tin

holding the rubber at the seam

of the wheels flowing thru traffic

hurried to get nowhere

I’ve already called for help,

but THANKS; for proving my

thought process correct

Is the idea of helping others so

overwhelming that we are creating

physical jails in the natural?

What happen to the love?

Is it gone?

In the time it takes you to slow down

and say “I’ll give you hand” is the

same amount of time it took for Martin

to walk onto the balcony and get shot

the same amount of time it took for

Malcolm to walk up to the podium and

Say ” asaalam alikam”

Supernatural things can happen in a

short amount of time

Humanity is passing by the wayside

like Christians walking in the light (blinding)

Night walkers standing up right (hardly)

I’m standing in between 154lbs of steel

and trees waving at you

Can you see me?

I’m your daughter in five years, your

mother 11 years ago waiting for help

just before she was murdered

Humanity is pushing X5 and E class

Praying you don’t notice they aren’t

looking your way but cutting you off

you in the way– They trying to get

onto the church ground to park that

big body up front

Humanity has me biting the sides

of my jaws to avoid the curses

my tongue can produce

Humanity has me nightwalking

thru day screams

I am not in reality

My compassion is being diminished

by society’s gimmicks

You talented tenth is talentless

Not due to lack of gifts, just lack of

generosity

Humans are locked inside to strongholds

of carnal instinct and intentions

the strings of genes that separates

Animal from Human

Humanity is lost hidden under your

$7000 untailored Brooks Brother suit,

flawed gators and silk handkerchiefs

Hidden under your front lace wig, silicon D’s ,

and overworked knees

Please, Humanity? What is that?

Goodwill has been replaced by overpriced

houses with no yards, multimedia systems with

surround sound and Disney Channel episodes

stealing family hour

We see elders in the community as old

instead of thinking of wisdom

We’ve marked our youth as

Generation X, Y, hellions, lost cause

When they are simply misguided by

parents that uphold their wrong

We’ve forgotten why we were given

Dominion on the Earth

more precious than angels we

have something that’s called a soul

The free will theory, having the choice

to choose if you want to

be an idiot or not

But you, you wouldn’t know anything

about that

to know that would make you human

being human would require you

to flow in the ranks of charity, goodwill,

compassion, generosity, mercy

all of those spell humanity and that

concept you lack

“Dwelling Place”

by Shaunteka LaTrese

Beyond measure he covers the line

most of us straddle

the shady gray area designated for

fools and babies

He keeps mind in serenity

and hearts humble meanwhile

we still finds ways to question

how awesome he is

usually by dwelling on what we’ve lost

instead of celebrating that which we

still have.

Yes, consistently professing spiritual

maturity yet choices and word

selection defeats that proclamation

How long do you plan to continue

to stand in your own way

how long will you speak of

instead of speaking at the

mountains hindering true

Godly worship

how long will you keep silent,

live in the valley, be feed with

yesterday’s bread

Walk in shoes two sizes two small

Reach for doors he’s already closed

He is waiting on you!

Right where you left him. You remember

he’s in the room you never

should have entered

he’s in those words you never

should have uttered but you did

all he wants is for you to acknowledge

your error and accept forgiveness

because he’s present help

a present god!

he opens new doors daily and his word

is valid for today

But if your still holding on the regret,

bitterness, living in isolation, rationalizing

things that are not of god, or comparing what

you have to others he can not

help you until you come into

the now. Right Now!

all sufficient, he knows what

we need before we know

what we need

He wants you to move out of

his way

so that he can kick down

your complacency

and your traditional buffoonery

obstructing his spiritual plan

See the God of this Age

would have you to think that everything

you’re doing right now is okay

The God of this Age would have you think

that your facades and masked

personalities satisfies his commands

They don’t. That’s deception.

The nature of deception is for it

to be staring you right in the face

without you knowing that its deception

He wants your heart.

He wants you to know the he

takes the sick, lame and impaired

restores their ailments because,

He’s a healer.

He places food in mouths and clothing

on the back of the deserving and

undeserving because,

He’s a provider.

Stepping into unfamiliar territory

he becomes the stable footing of your walk,

he’s your Righteousness.

When you’re blinded by your own sight

He’s the quiet calm in the mist of chaos, he’s

Shalom, your Peace.

Before you knew you He knew you

He set you up to set you apart because,

He’s a Sanctifier.

He longs for you to seek him

he desires to replenish and console you

because, he is the Comforter.

He wants you to get over what your

used to doing and get hungry like the

woman with the issue of the blood

and come after him.

Quicken your feet with desperation

He wants you to be as

consuming as a fire destroying

everything in your path to get to him

He wants you to thirst after

his perfect will like the Great

Expanse of Ocean that never gets full

Trust him like the man at the wading pool,

go after him like the woman

with the alabaster box,

who pursued her opportunity with persistence

This is your Kairos.

An appointed, set time for you

to grab hold of God and say I’m not gone

let you go until you bless my soul!

So, eliminate your fear, stop your excuses and

change your mind…So that God can make you

his Dwelling Place!

Untitled poem by GlennWoodz

TODAY I OVERHEARD A CONVERSATION ON THE BAILOUT OF WALL STREET, SO I ASKED THE GOVERNMENT WHAT ABOUT MY STREET? WHERE THE DOPEFIENDS AND DRUGDEALERS MEET. YOU SEE FREDDY STILL MACKS AND FANNIE MAE SHAKES HER FANNIE. AND MY PLAYER PARTNER WITH RED EYES ASK WOULD YOU PRAY FOR ME? IS IT A BETTER DAY FOR ME? AS I WAS FLIPPING THRU THE TUBE THE OTHER DAY. I HEARD THE DUDE SAY KILLINGS LIKE THIS GO ON EVERYDAY IN THE WINDY CITY. SAD DAY WHEN JENNIFER HUDSON NEPHEW WAS MISSING HAD ME CRYING BLUE ASKING FURIOUS WHAT THE BOYS N THE HOOD GONE DO? YOU SEE ITS 20YRS LATER AND US DOUGH BOYS KILLING OURSELF OVER THE DOUGH BOYS. WONT BOTHER TO TAKE A BOOK OFF THE SHELF MESSAGE TO THE BLACKMAN BROTHER ELIJAH WARNED US TO TAKE A LOOK AT OURSELF! AND MY GRANNY REMINDED ME OF SOMETHING ELSE SHE SAY BABY THE BLACKMAN IS THE DEFINITION OF HOPE YOU SEE SHE IS 84 AND SOMETIMES HER MIND COME AND GO BUT SHE KEEP REMINDING ME NOT TO LET HER SLIP AND FORGET TO GO VOTE. SHE SAY ITS TIME THEY GAVE THE BLACKMAN A CHANCE GO BARACK WITH VISIONS OF MARTIN LUTHERS MOUNTAIN TOP AND WHO SAID THESE POOR KIDS  IN ALABAMA ARENT ALLOWED TO DREAM WHEN A LIFETIME THEY ARE SURROUNDED BY DOPEFIENDS YOU SHOULD HAVE HEARD THE BLACK FOLKS SCREAM IN JENNA LOUISIANA/ WHAT WE WANT? FREEDOM! WHEN WE WANT IT? NOW! FROM THE CRUCIFIX OF THE JENNA 6 TO THE HIGH NOON LYNCHING OF MIKE VICK THEN T I GET TRICKED THATS WHY YOU GOTTA LOOK THAT KID IN THE EYE AND TELL HIM TO MAN UP STAND UP PULL YO PANTS UP AND DONT QUIT! GOODMORNING GHETTO I AM BOUT TO WRAP IT UP LIKE A CIGARILLO I COME WITHOUT HALOW I COME FROM WHERE ITS DO AS MOTHER SAY SO. I COME FROM WHERE DOUBT KIDS DESIRE WHICH DESTROYS HOPE THIS IS WHAT I SEE WHEN I BLOW MY SMOKE. A NEW AMERICA! THE NATIVE KID SAY TOMORROW HE WOULD BE OBAMA. YOU SEE I AM NOT TOO MUCH WORRIED ABOUT OSAMA THE TALIBAN. ITS THE YOUNG UNEDUCATED BLACKMAN WITH GUN IN HAND. YOU CAN PAY LEBRON JAMES 100 MILLION BUT COULDNT STOP MY BEAUTIFUL HIGH SCHOOL WEST END FROM LEAKING FROM THE CEILING.

Manic Depression/Bipolar

By:  Price Immanuel

These thoughts are a prison

With a dismal gloomy vision

Here, there is no intermission

Only

Long suffering

Pain buffing with a spit shine

And NO these thoughts aren’t sublime

They’re a concurrent, rough turbulence

That propagates throughout my day

Here, happiness has nowhere to stay

A restraint on Joy

Cheerfulness with a Play

Maybe I should seek group therapy

As if I were a gaggle of geese

A school of fish

Deep in the Abyss

Of Lithium

Damn!  I feel as if I stand Alone

I told you once before happiness has no Home

And there is a markee

On his brain that reads

Someone free him from this disease

And don’t bother in parenthesis

Can anyone save this brother from the funk?

Can anyone pull this brother from the swamp?

A bedlam of Junk

There, he stands

His father of ten tells him he’s not a Man

So then, what am I?

I guess adulthood is on standby

So he cries when he alone

Rush friends off the phone

And never answer my door

Isolation, awkwardly seems relaxing

Anti-social superstore

Anxiety at its peak

I see you, know you

And dare not to speak

Because I’m trying to allude these thoughts

And speaking to you might bring them back up

They say Joy comes in the morning

But in the morning

I morn

Longing to be reborn

To another dream

Because my dreams beat reality

And in these dreams there are no casualties

Tragedies

Or sad endings

Only Jimmy Hendrix and Kurt Cobain

Knows my pain

My brothers in this alignment

Anti-psychotic and Anti-depressant

He subscribes

Failed attempts of suicide

Yet you can’t tell

That he’s not well

Cause these things he often no reveals

Is he Bipolar?

Copyright 2010 all rights reserved

“Last Night”

by Cynthia Littleton

Last night you frightened me

You were different

You were unhinged

Drunk on Mountain Dew and Vodka

Your own Hyde formula

I knew you were a biochemist, but this I didn’t expect

to see you here, like this

in this state, it all seems so strange

You said you were an alcoholic

but you swore you were recovering

I don’t know what to say

Is there anything to say in a situation like this

I mean, it’s not like you’ll remember any of it

I think I should be mad, or atleast more mad than I am

After all I know that you lied not just once

your friend explained this pattern of behavior

had been going on for weeks, months, before Christmas

and your lie made me lie to your ex-girlfriend

Yet with all the lies I can’t seem to care

All I know is what I see here

Last night you were another person

You yelled and screamed incoherent ramblings

about everything and nothing

more extreme than your usual incoherency

Some words didn’t even sound real

though I’m sure your mind has some cosmic meaning attached

you can always attach meaning to the most meaningless chickens

And you changed completely from state to another

more frequently and with more passion

than any other time

At one point you thought you were the only one in the room

Then you forgot who you were talking to

You called me “Catherine” Who’s she?

Someone new, someone you failed to introduce

You’d think feelings of jealousy would erupt in me

and I would get up and leave

You called her a “whore”

You’d think that would set me off, send me packing out the door

You were some desperate, howling, growling demons

snarling on the binge of insanity and genius

You were my friend and now you are this

thing with pale, sick skin and hair ablaze

red fire screaching like a Phoenix

claws reaching out, limbs flailing about

like skeletal remains

But what I find most strange is not your mind so deranged

7 attention spans usually so estranged from one another

Now introduced by alcohol

all culminating in one off-off broadway performance

for only me and your friend to see

He’s bored, he’s apparently seen this play before

but me, I just stand there before this spectacle of depravity

staring silently, letting it all soak in

Waiting to see how this drama would end

Last night you frightened me…

Do it again

“Nobody Says I Love You”

by Cynthia Littleton

Nobody says “I love you” anymore

And I can’t recall where I heard it before

On TV movies the words escape reality

The only guy who ever said he loved me, tried to rape me

The words “I love you” are never said

To whoever, whenever they are most meant

Through various facial expressions and actions

Are revealed our innermost passions

Mothers often say the words

But sometimes what they feel is insecure

Fathers never seem to care

Even if the father’s there

Sometimes the roles are reversed

Mothers never say the words, despite her

Fathers love their sons and daughters

Some poor kids aren’t loved by either

Why don’t you try saying what’s on your mind

I’d be more inclined to give you the time

If you were open and honest about who you are

Let your mouth be the instrument to express your heart

Dearly beloved, here we have gathered

To witness the beginning of happily ever after

For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health

Hold onto each other to gain Eternal wealth

To remain grateful and faithful

Until death do us part

May God bless us in the end

Because we don’t know how to start

Why is it so hard, why are we playing coward

To say what’s in our hearts

We say a million things to each other and still remains

The same encircling thought that neither names

I don’t understand why the words don’t flow with ease

Maybe we’ve forgotten what “I love you” means.

“If I Were Unattractive You Wouldn’t Hear A Word I Say”

by Cynthia Littleton

The plain and pretty people hold a monopoly on the world’s attention because ugly people don’t identify with those who look like them Thank you, television Nothing makes a woman more pleased than seeing a woman heavier than her but only the insecure don’t understand why a guy would love a heavy girl instead of the prettiest Fat girls hate fat women who are brave enough to stand alone Fat guys won’t date women larger than a size 10 because of those comic book heroes and the women drawn out of proportion by guys who could never get a glance from the head cheerleader & it comes as no surprise that all the girls who identify with Christina Aguilera & sing along with all the songs written by guys they look more like & think they can be a star because they’re too shallow to be anything else & Everybody knows girls like her Everybody tells her she sounds like Amy Lee or Avril because they’re too afraid to tell her the plain ugly truth — So she has to hear it from Simon Cowell Far be it for a fat person to know their limits but let’s be realistic Just because you can you should not do a nude scene Cellulite produces a gag reflex that ruins the romance for the obese audience because none of them are able to accept the fact that everybody has it because they can’t accept themselves because nobody accepted them You won’t be taken seriously until you drop all your defenses & let yourself be frightening and pathetic It takes courage to be foolish Put your true self on full display You won’t get attention by acting just like them Nobody wants to see a fake but if you open yourself up & let all those bottled feelings out People will identify with your pain We’re all built & grow a different way Beauty is a vain & doubtful, fleeting thing & even pretty people can show ugliness at times The soul is all that matters it’s who you are inside & other tired worn out cliché lines that everybody says but nobody really lives because the truth is when it comes down to it if I were unattractive, you wouldn’t really care

First day

By Punky Burwinkle

I had to go to bed real early,

Clean my ears and wash my hair

First day of school will be tomorrow

I can hardly wait ‘til I am there.

I’ve waited for this day so long

My whole life, so it seems

I lie awake; I just can’t sleep;

I just can’t go away in dreams.

My momma took me to the store

And bought me brand new shoes,

A pencil box with pencils,

Scissors, paper and some glue.

We picked the clothes I’d wear

Before she tucked me in,

And all are neatly waiting

‘Til the sun comes peeking in.

I’m so excited; sleep just won’t come

The promised day has come at last.

My momma kissed me, looked and sighed,

‘I can’t believe you grew so fast.’

Punky Burwinkle

May 10, 2010

Absolutely

By Punky Burwinkle

We’ve waited with anticipation

But all they give is hesitation

They’re frozen there in trepidation

And fail again our expectation.

Looks like our fears will have fruition

It’s time we rose in opposition.

Our debt still has no resolution

For the JeffCo Five, ’s no absolution.

Punky Burwinkle

July 30, 2011

Bingo Trial Week 6

By Punky Burwinkle

The Bingo Trial’s been going on

For six weeks and a day

We’ve heard a lot ‘bout dirty deals

‘What else is new?’ we say.

We’ve always known

Those guys aren’t nice —

Politics ’s a nasty biz –

Don’t have to tell us twice.

The prosecution’s told its tale

Of nasty talk and sleaze and such,

Of campaign coffers filled to brim,

We’re not appalled – at least not much.

We’ve listened to a bunch of tapes

And many folks have testified;

I’m still not sure that bribes were made

Or taken by the other side.

But what’s been proven, have no doubt,

Our state is run by sleazy blokes;

And we put them all in office there,

Guess that makes us the butt of jokes.

Looks like this trial is gonna last

A good while more – all summer —

Lots more dirt and lots more sleaze,

This whole thing has become a bummer.

Punky Burwinkle

July 28, 2011

Bob Dylan

By Punky Burwinkle

You know you’ve really gotten old

When Bob Dylan turns three score and ten.

Guess he’s brought it all back home

Ah, Bobby, how well I knew you then.

He was a hero of my generation,

He was our voice ‘way back when.

He’s changed a lot, has Bobby D

Now that he is three score and ten.

He no longer pens the protest songs

And he’s rearranged ‘em for his band.

He’s turned old folk tunes into rock

Well, he wrote ‘em, guess he can.

I caught his show a few months back

Thought I’d see him one last time

But even if he comes again

I won’t be standing in the line.

I think it’s fine he wants to grow

And lead a rock band loud and bold.

I love rock, too – I always have –

But don’t mess with those songs of old.

Just Like A Woman isn’t rock

Neither is Masters of War;

The Times may be a-changing, Bob,

But don’t change what you wrote before.

They are my past, your legacy,

The finger writes, and then moves on,

Just let them be, untouched and pure

And only you the rolling stone.

Punky Burwinkle

May 24, 2011

Day Tripper

By Punky Burwinkle

I’m chillin’ out this afternoon

Listenin’ to some tapes –

Old concerts of the Grateful Dead –

And munchin’ on some grapes.

It’s cold outside and rainy

And though I have lots to do

I just felt I needed this

So back in time my mind it flew.

I let the music carry me

I saw the colors, smelled the grass,

Ate lots of grilled cheese sandwiches

And danced at concerts from the past.

My hair grew dark

My teeth grew in

My tummy tightened

I lost some chins.

I swayed and twirled

‘Neath sunny skies

Hugged everyone

And kissed some guys.

The afternoon goes slowly by

The night comes creeping in

The present knocks upon my door

I know I have to let it in.

When I walk past the mirror

I stare at who is standing there

– It doesn’t look at all like me –

Has wrinkles, bags, no teeth, gray hair.

I sigh and sadly turn away

My Dead tapes back in box are tucked

My trip is over for this day

Getting old has really sucked!

Punky Burwinkle

November 13, 2010

Getting Old

By Punky Burwinkle

Getting old is

S’posed to be

What’s shown

In pictures on tv.

Happy seniors

Years of gold

It’s just a bill

Of goods we’re sold.

Your hair turns white

Falls out, gets thin

It’s hard to tell

If much is in.

But that’s only

Hair on head

What also happens

We all dread.

And this really isn’t

Very pleasant

Hair starts to grow

Where once it wasn’t.

Your teeth get loose

It’s hard to chew

They start to fall

No steak for you!

Your skin gets wrinkled

Begins to sag

You become a hairless,

Toothless hag!

Your boobs fall down

‘Most to your knees

Your fingers gnarl

It hurts to squeeze.

You have to rise

Each night to pee

Or wet your bed

Oh, mercy me!

Your memory

Begins to fail,

To go down stairs

Must hold the rail.

It’s hard to read

The print’s so small

Can’t walk too far

If walk at all.

Folks start to whisper

So you can’t hear

What’s going on

Not far nor near.

When winter comes

Your bones, they ache.

Get no respect

For goodness sake!

Time was I could

Have danced all night,

Picked up a bale,

Run up a flight.

My salad days

Are long, long past

So is the entrée

Dessert went fast.

The sun is setting

Day’s almost done

I think old age

This fight has won.

So I sent this to a friend of mine

And asked him, ‘Whatcha think?’

And he replied, ‘I think it’s time

For an after dinner drink!’

And this, of course, required of me

To answer, with a sigh,

And since you prob’ly want to see,

I show you my reply:

To chug a beer

Gives me good cheer

And whisky

Makes me frisky

Sipping brandy

Gets me randy

If I drink scotch

My reputation’s a blotch

When I slurp gin

Oh, the trouble I’m in

And vodka with mixes

Might cause some nixes

Rum and coke is yucky

Salty dogs will get me lucky

Margaritas make me dance

Upon the table if a chance

But wine

Is fine

It’s quite sublime

Slays Father Time

And helps me rhyme.

Punky Burwinkle

November 17, 2010

I dropped a coin

By Punky Burwinkle

I dropped a coin and heard it fall

It didn’t stop, oh, not at all

But rolled away instead.

A coin I could have surely spent.

I watched it as it quickly went

And disappeared beneath my bed.

‘I have to find it,’ came the thought

So I got down on my hands and knees,

And peered into that black abyss

(Now, folks, no laughter, if you please!)

I know that many years have passed

I know that I have gotten older

But I swear here now, it’s true, oh, yes

The dirt and shmutz have grown much bolder.

I used to be a woman clean

I fear I’m now a dirty pig.

I stared in the horror at the scene:

Dust bunnies large as grapefruits big,

Dog hair, feathers, lots of dust,

Empty Kleenex boxes,

Newspapers shredded by my bird,

Bobby pins and books on foxes,

The hairbrush that I lost last year,

Half-eaten, moldy cookie there,

Empty sacks, unopened mail,

Dirty socks and underwear.

Safety pins, a legal pad,

Coupons clipped from magazines,

The glasses that I could not find,

Stacks of papers – reams and reams.

Chewed dog toys, a teddy bear,

A yo-yo, wind-up cars, a ball,

Pens and pencils, scissors,

And no, that was not all.

Two pairs of shoes, some bedroom slippers,

Some gloves, a hat, a knitted scarf,

All covered with the dust and yuck,

I really thought that I might barf.

A suitcase and a coffee can,

A stack of books, a knife, a spoon,

A toilet paper roll, a flute –

Surely this would all end soon!

But worst of all, I do admit,

Was I saw lots and lots of money,

Peeking out from hair and dust

(Quit that giggle, it’s not funny!)

I held my breath, afraid to breathe,

From what was under where I slept.

Had it really, really been that long

Since underneath my bed I swept?

I went to get the vacuum

And also got the broom

And lots and lots of garbage bags –

I swear they filled the room!

I swept and bagged all afternoon

It took me many hours

To clean the shmutz from ‘neath my bed

And chase away the horrors.

I found that coin that I had dropped

And many, many more

I piled them up and counted all –

Made total dollars twenty-four!

I toted trash bags to the street

The pile began to grow quite high

I counted each and every one –

Thirteen bags – I thought I’d die!

So now you know – my secret’s out,

I’m really just a sloven sow,

But underneath my bed is clean

You can stop laughing, at least for now.

Punky Burwinkle

February 20, 2011

Splish Splash

By Punky Burwinkle

Splish Splash

We’ve been takin’ a bath

And not just on a Saturday night!

Glub-a-glub

We’ve been gettin’ a drub

Thinkin’ everything was all right.

Well, turns out the drub

Has been a-moppin’ th’ floor

Cleanin’ us out at the till

Let their friends in th’ door

So then-a Splish, Splash

We’re thrown back in th’ bath

Well – how were we to know

There’s been a party goin’ on.

They’ve been a-splishin’ and a-splashin’

And we’re reelin’ with the feelin’

They’ve been a-movin’ with the’ stealin’

Been a-groovin’ with the squealin’…. yeah!

Bing bang

Now we see the whole gang

Dancin’ at the Water Works Board

Flip flop

That CREEM ain’t risin’ to th’ top

They’re all linked by that tapestry cord!

There was Pirnie dancin’ with Mayor Bell

Barnes and Lewis, and Robinson, too!

Germany, Brantley, Wilhelm, James,

And, yeah, there’s lots more names for you.

Construction firms, and auditors,

Lawyers as well —

We’re being milked by the CREEM

Who want to re-elect Bell.

Oh, Splish Splash

We’ve been takin’ a bath

And not just on a Saturday night!

Bing bang

We’ve been CREEMed by the gang

We’ve been rocked and rolled, all right!!

Punky Burwinkle

July 31, 2011

(Thanks to Bobby Darin)

The Sewer Blob

By Punky Burwinkle

Johnny Young, he comes to town

Sent here by the judge

His orders are to take control

Of our sewer pipes and sludge.

You see, our Jeff Co’s deep in debt

We got put there by our leaders

Those crooked folks who took the bribes

Oh, it ain’t pretty, readers!

They took the money, swapped some bonds

Did lots of wheelin’, dealin’

And now the debt has grown so high

It’s got us all a-reelin’.

Why, that sewer debt is now so big

It’s like the Blob from movies past

It’s oozing out from in our sewer

And gobblin’ all within its path.

It started out at Billion One,

And now it’s almost Billion Four,

That stinky, sewer Blob of sludge

Which threatens each and ev’ry door.

The saga just gets worse and worse

I’m here to tell ya, it’s far from over

Johnny Young’s been sent by law

An’ his fee ain’t hay, it’s more like clover.

He’ll get $500 bucks an hour

That’s more than Scrushy at his best

That sewer Blob, it grows some more

We’ll never put this thing to rest.

It’s not a football game we’ll play

Like Auburn and the Crimson Tide

The SEC won’t make the rules

Though Young will be Receiver wide.

Now, the Lyric’s coming back to life

And Railroad Park is full of flower.

And down along our sidewalks fair

The movies play, our finest hour.

But one film’s missing from the screen –

No horror movie in the bounty

This someone really ought to make –

The Sewer Blob That Ate Our County.

Punky Burwinkle

September 26, 2010

Mind Set

By Punky Burwinkle

Johnny Young has come to town

To fix our sewer debt

We hoped that he would use good sense

But ‘pears as if his mind was set.

We didn’t ask for him to come

He got sent here by a judge

And what he wants for us to do

Will keep us mired in sewer sludge.

We have to pay him what he costs

He gets 500 bucks an hour

He thinks the pay is pretty sweet

We think it’s pretty sour.

And for the money that we give

This here’s his proposition:

Increase our sewer fee by half.

Our voices rise in opposition.

So he replies with sugar coating:

‘Well, twenty-five percent seems fair.’

Hah!  In your dreams, oh, Johnny Young,

Where will we get it?  From thin air?

To pay them more is not an option

For most of us our pay is small

No way in hell can we do this

Our back’s already ‘gainst the wall.

Looks like he wants to mis-direct

A TV show called Jersey Share

‘Cause we’ve for sure been Snookered

By this carpetbagger sittin’ there.

What he’s fixin’ ain’t the debt

He’s come down here to find a way

To make us pay the Wall Street banks

He’s put the fix on us, I say.

Punky Burwinkle

March 16, 2011

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