A former Sweat,
A current Sweet of Mr. Smith.
Skinny as a beanpole.
A mom,
Who loves her two Old Testament sons.
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Ode to Mrs. Smith
Ode to Saul
A legend in our time,
His laugh – an outburst.
A heart of 1000 men,
With a son in the coming,
When does your name turn to Paul?
Bud-Ro (Why I call my dog Bud-Ro)
Raleigh is a 10 month boxer pup w/ rambunctious genes and a beautiful mohagany coat. Whenever I come home everyday from work Mr. Raleigh comes prancing to meet me trying to wag his docked tail and since it’s too short to indicate he’s happy he wags his rear end instead, which helped coin one of the nicknames, wiggly butt (wiggly worm by my wife). Now, he has white fur around all 4 paws which sometimes brings the ol’ steady nickname of Socks… not too original though. Dang Dog, heard quite often, is one of the favorites. So is Stupid Dog. And a very bad explicative the one time he messed his crate, ate it and horked it all over the place. Whenever he was a wee bit I used to call him Flee Bitten Varmint, a staple term used by Yosemite Sam for Bugs, simply because Raleigh had flees and wasn’t wanted in the house (and for sure not on the couch). Now please excuse me for this next one but I’m sure you know what I mean, Ball Buster… did I mention he likes to box? Well, we finally come to the most dearest and used nickname of Bud-Ro (Ro as in Roe). Bud-Ro just somehow plopped into mind one day, don’t know how, but it just came out and could quite be his real name if it wasn’t for naming dogs right when you get the pup. But it’s just what we call the guy most of the time these days. Maybe it’s because we live in Oklahoma, maybe he just looks like a Bud-Ro, maybe I read his mind. So…I really have no reasonable explanation for the name Bud-Ro – it’s a mystery.
The One Among Seven
The seven assemble on the natural stage among the moon shadowed water while a menagerie of amber particles float up into the void of the starry abode. Hands clasp, comradery fumes. Strong charges commence upon one man whom enters the next echelon of time…into the covenant. His pedestal is lifted and shields are raised by the ascent of wise words carefully chosen with embattled knowledge. As supplication and pleas rise to The Consuming Fire, the one brandishes his heart, the Maker places it on the black tried anvil and forges it into a new metal ready for a new age and territory. It sets a blaze in myriads of sparks and slowly cools with a pale glow and is displayed to the six. The five hurrah and herald the new one as he takes his stead. The new one mounts with the quipped five and they ride over the high basin steppes into the night.
To The Masses: A Post, A Toast
Hello Again. This Time a post, a toast. A toast to Neil Diamond…he Serenades America with his Beautiful Noise. You see people…It’s a Matter of Love. I mean I’m a Believer in this guy. Can Anybody Hear Me?
The Heavens Open
Clouds rock over my abode’s roof while the cry of a freight transport muffles in the background. Drops slap the pools outside my window supplying the earths crust it’s needed drink with hands reaching through the cracks. The Almighty reminds the creation of his magninimity through piercing and felt sonic waves of sound. The emergency siren comes and loses itself in the black drape of pounding drench. Like a swarm the water wraps around the unseen force that sways to nobody’s word but his. What is this banshee that refuses introduction and barges in without warn? …..STORM!
