I love a soup of mixed bean
at least three types( up to fifteen )
soaked in clear water over night
then full day's simmer makes it right

A cold glass of milk and cold sweet tea
along with warm corn pone, you see
is about as good as anything
a meal fit for queen or king

Served up for the evening meal
to anyone it should appeal
but even if portions are slight
it makes for a right windy night

another not ready for prime time poem

The best beavers are nice and hairy
especially when they're wet
though I've heard of hairless ones
I've never met one yet.

I like tits smallish and perky
and hooters not overly big;
the ones which fit in a cupped hand
are the kind I really dig.

And when it comes to asses
I prefer them young and lean
with a bit of hairy tail
peeking out from in between.

Ya'll know I write mainly in rhyme
but still try new things time to time
some times I hit, but often miss
by trying am I now remiss?

Now there is this other form
which is light years from my norm
take warning you should hold your nose
scribbler's going to try Prose

title..........................UNEASE

Upon awaking that gray morning, he felt somehow out of sync.
As if each careful movement was timed wrong.Like a clock
which said toc tic. Or Michael Jackson moon walking.

Peering out the window high
from my apartment in the sky
bemoaning lack of nature there
at which i could sit and stare

A gray Scottish evening, drab
I hear passersby as they blab
in their multi- colored coats
derived from the sheep and goats

The leaden clouds form a close ceiling
adding a melancholy feeling
as they pass as slow as battle ships
just released from their slips

150 years ago on this date the American war between the states began. This is for the over 600,000 who died in that conflict. ( another poem from old site)

Let's now not talk of right or wrong
who was weak and who was strong
forget the leaders and their goals
but just the ones who fought, poor souls

Some wore grey and some wore blue
and often they each other knew
the war that started out as "grand"
too rapidly grew out of hand

* not good enough to stream

I have been here as long as man
rooted in his reptile brain
always present, never sleeping
cold and calculating
immoral? amoral?
no difference

You first saw me on the playground
in the eyes of the bully
who'd knocked you down
then laughed

As acquaintances grow older
I am better hidden
yet still I remain
at the bank
..the IRS
..the bargaining table
..in an ex-lover's look

She was the first to read me here
it was a garbled mess, I fear
posted by a computer neophyte
she patiently said it was alright

I know her job was meet and greet
and to help to show the way
yet she still acts like it's a treat
when my words chance go her way

We've grown as poets and as friends
in this short space of time
and I'm pleased each time she sends
corrections on my paltry rhymes

There is a cat who has no fur
who dwells beneath the northern sky
you'd never tell to look at her
another year has passed her by

Her writing is always first class
and of a style that's all her own
(I think she has a bit of sass)
she always speaks with gentle tone

So as you sit in your cool clime
and live your life from day to day
I guess that I will take the time
to wish for you a great birthday

I need a new computer chair
or else not spend so much time there
my butt has destroyed all this ones pad
a result that only can be bad

Plus this old one has no arms
and it's sans both style and charms
it doesn't even glide or rock
I'll bet that comes as quite a shock

When I sit in it long enough
to arise is really tough
maybe I need one with a lift
what a thought for birthday gift

Is poetry a mere form letter
just fill in the blanks
merely form and nothing better?
if it is, no thanks!

I'll leave perfection to professors
in their sterile lecture halls
let them be the art's possessors
if they have the balls

All poetry straight from the heart
has its own type of grace
it's time the perfectionists start
to wipe the smirks from their smug face