I believe ballplayers move like symphony song.
This smile will name no hunger under home sky.
She is hurting my thirsty heart.
Water grows you up.
Rhythm filling me—
Need to fly.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Buy Some Land! Buy Some Land!...
A dealer who goes by Ill Kenny,
Whose rims cost him a beautiful penny,
Parked his customized Caddy
Near an ambitious laddy.
Where he had
rims, he hasn't got
any.
There but for the Grace of God
There once was a teacher of rot
Who said things that he later forgot.
He read his quoted word
In a paper absurd
and remarked “I like this one a lot!”
The Whole—and Nothing But
I can't quite testify in a court of law
That one year my friend lived on
nothing but slaw.
I'm unable to swear on my mother's
grave
That I remember every last gift that I
gave.
I can't place my hand on the Good Book
(or even one that's just okay)
While I tell the story of my biggest
Bueller day.
I can't take an oath and tell before a
judge
That I drove clear 'cross the country
pursuing a grudge,
But cross my heart and hope to die,
I'm not the kind to tell a lie;
I'm a bard.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Refreshing
I suppose I must just not be civilized.
Those few moments that most people
prize
Are on my list as just another chore.
I don't care to be clean; I care that
my morning or
My evening has a hole in the middle,
gored.
I only care that I'm bored.
Living Up To My Ideals
I should have all my grades in, but some work was late.
I should be ready to teach, but I made a mistake.
I should do this better; there's just too much at stake.
I should be grading, but I needed a break.
I should be planning, but I needed my break.
I should enjoy my alone time, but I can't stay awake.
I should be ready to teach, but I made a mistake.
I should do this better; there's just too much at stake.
I should be grading, but I needed a break.
I should be planning, but I needed my break.
I should enjoy my alone time, but I can't stay awake.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Judgy Juries and Executioners
I'm not even in yet, but soon I'll go out
To face my firing squad, and my doubts.
Sidelong glances from snide eyes explain
Exactly what's wrong with my heart and my brain.
I guess I could change; I guess I could hide;
I guess I could freeze up until I can't think,
But I was born in a snowbank, and raised in the Arctic.
They'll never scare me inside.
To face my firing squad, and my doubts.
Sidelong glances from snide eyes explain
Exactly what's wrong with my heart and my brain.
I guess I could change; I guess I could hide;
I guess I could freeze up until I can't think,
But I was born in a snowbank, and raised in the Arctic.
They'll never scare me inside.
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