Blog Archives

Old Flame

Hello, old flame—
Is it time to relight dead embers?
And are your eyes green or blue,
Asks the one who never remembers?
And do you remember when
We sunburned on Sandbridge Beach,
Searching for a lifelong love
That was always so far out of reach?
One of us sailed away;
The other went back to school.
Luckily you had escaped
A life with this poor old fool.
And why do we always reframe
The errors of our youthful past?
Now so older and wiser,
We know nothing can so long last
As the longing for sure arms;
Or someone to chase the dark cloud.
But, it seems to be my lot
That that someone I’m not allowed.
So, I guess I have to ask:
Do you even remember my name?
Because here I come a-calling—
Hello, old flame.

Advertisements

Just Stand Still

Been chasing, chasing, for so damn long
Just stand still
Lemme catcha breath
Wait wait
It’s not too late
I can be the one
I can do right
Always over the hill
Always out of sight
Just stand still
Songs are sung
Bells are all rung
Flood my mind
Stop a bit
Why so unkind
Just stand still
Over the hills
Across the sea
What must I do
Why can’t it be me
Just stand still

Friday The 13th Acadien

He ain’t user friendly
He prefers bottom shelf
You’ll never see it coming
He won’t much mind, himself
“Baby’s toys gracing the floor”
She asks if there’s gonna be another stanza—
“Baby breathless, asking for more”
He gets the glasses down from the credenza
He don’t care who won the game
He hates to mow the lawn
He’d like to return to Barcelona
But, well, he’s slightly overdrawn
“So, what are we up now, love?”
His muse has some quite juicy lines—
“Don’t worry, baby, we have the time.”
She has the all of everything for which he pines.
He writes the stuff after dark
He likes his second glass
The neighbors seem to cringe:
Pity, he really hasn’t much class
Remember, deeply, the seventies
When Zeppelin was all the rage?
(This rhymester’s saddest secret:
Why wasn’t he born Jimmy Page?)
He steals words from his muse:
“Carefully caressing every soft contour”
Anticipation sweet, removing those fancy shoes:
“Even her red toes, that he does adore”
He thinks he can dance
He’s torn it up with the best.
But here comes Friday the 13th
He won’t much mind this test.

–thanks for writing assist by June O!

Smiles Deliver

Words often fail
Smiles deliver
A touch brushes by
We all shiver
Hoping against hope
The chord lingers
She turns to face
And traces with her fingers
Open your mind
Open your grasp
Close upon my heart
And feel me gasp
Before the bottle opens
And we tumble in the sand
I want to have earned you
Making you smile and safely grand
To dance beyond tomorrow
And chase horizons together
You had me at the pool game
So knock me over with your feather
Because you’re my firebird
Your flame burns so well
I’m not going anywhere
Can you tell?

Festivals Acadiens et Créoles

I have this wee littl heart
It comes with an even littler brain
We falls in and out of love
Again and again and again
Sweet Slidellians offer warm smiles
My wee brainy fluxes and fails
I wish I could be lesser wrong
And win more at heads or tails
But fortune smiles on the stupid
And fortune likes me just okay
Things are looking maybe toasty
If I could only get out of my own way
Gonna dance in Lafayette
Come crawfish, oysters, or high water
We’ll reel and saunter and smile
At leasts I think we should oughter
I have this wee littl heart
It comes with an even littler brain
We falls in and out of love
Like the rains that fall in Spain
Gonna arm’n’arming in that old Girard Park
Dontcha know that’s the thing for a love spark?

Count Yr Blessings!

Count yr blessings!
Count ‘em all now!
Cuz when yer dead,
Won’t matter anymuch anymore anyhow.
Count yr blessings
Count ‘em quick!
Seems yr doing ok—
Better’n an eye hosting a stick!
Count yr blessings
Yes, you can count that high:
Kids, car, job, sweet hubby, house,
And all those friends: my o my o my!
Count yr blessings!
Count me in!
Cuz when yr gone,
Won’t be no time left over for sin!
Count yr blessings!
Count ‘em out all over the place!
Oh, my silly girl,
How I miss your blessed face!
Count yr blessings!
Count ‘em all now!
Cuz when yer back in St Tammany,
Won’t matter anymuch anymore anyhow.

Another Monday

Blossoming Southern belles—
Plastic as far as you can see.
Sooner or later the truth
Makes itself plain,
More or less eventually.

Travel over the old road,
Hope against hope for happiness new,
But find you’ve returned home
Spitting at the gods—
Chagrined through and through.

Gambling for a maybe,
Hopelessly hoping we young
At heart, we’re quite hopeful.
Why climb the campanile
Seeking a bell yet unrung?

Two storms amangling,
A third fluffs in the wings.
Furbabies tied to trees;
O soft fear strangles us all.
How Stupidity wretchedly stings!

Another Monday looms,
We will all try to do our best.
Be happy and healthy,
Be safe and remain free.
In the end we will all pass this Zen test.

A New Adventure (Same Old Story)

Chasing happily-ever-after
Miles and miles over the road;
Hoping the fair princess
Can discern in this hapless toad

Inside loom love and kindness
Along with old pain and mischance.
But to worry a bit of brie
Along with, just maybe, a dance,

Would be any true man’s dream.
So, a road trip in a new September
A start of something special—
Or an adventure to long remember?

Two empaths to closely encounter
And perhaps co-mix their life stories;
High hoisted on tenterhooks,
Dreaming of better glories.

So All Ye, All Ye, In Free! I’m going to fair Slidell.
Wish for me your best and let’s see what a fortnight can tell.

–“It’s still the same old story
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die.
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by.”

Allons Aller

Seeing you are a Goddess
It’s not that hard to see
You’ll be breaking hearts
Eternally

Lovely in Yellow
Dazzling all who care to glance
Mongrels like me
Never get half a chance

Oh, but I can two-step
And Zydeco better’n most
Do you take your poached eggs
With or without whole wheat toast?

Allons aller a Lafayette
And cut up that old Girard lawn.
Chances linger gossamer,
And spit, they’re gone!

But I reach above my station;
I’ve learnt the pattern of the tiled floor;
But Life careens ahead
Leave behind Less, go for All the More

So Lucky

I should be so lucky
I should feel so good
To be fully in love
And completely understood
You’re prettier than your picture
Nicer than your posts
I’d love you forever
On all and any of the best Southern coasts
I can harmonize with that
In any shower stall
Yes, put in your earplugs
Twouldn’t mind that at all.
I’d love to know the answer
I’d love to know your name
To be so fully in love
And to know you felt the same
I’m nicer than my picture
And darker than most posts
Let’s get mingled together
Oh, how the elder hippy boasts