It’s Poetics time at the dVerse Poets Pub! Tonight, our prompt is “looking out the window.”
Peering through the window
of my mind’s eye
now smudged thick
with the fingerprint
of time,
distorted
by memories
of trying to remember.
Still I see you
and me
the way we were
all those years ago.
And I smile
through
the blur.
It’s Haibun Monday over at the dVerse Poets Pub. Our prompt is birthdays.
No doubt about it, there are some couples who simply should not procreate. My parents were in this number. They probably should have dated for a while & called it good. But no, they had to take that ball and run with it — smack dab into a wall. From the first month it was a union fraught with peril, according to my mom. She knew she’d made a mistake, but hung in there anyway. Then she got pregnant and almost left my dad when she was three months along.
After I was born, things really got interesting. From what I hear, it was as though a live monkey wrench had been tossed into a clusterf**k. Dad had his heart set on a boy, so I was a disappointment right out of the chute. I did not deviate from this path, as Dad often pointed out. Mom was happy with me though. In the end, some mistakes cannot be undone, such as hapless slips of sperm.
Please, no cards or gifts.
forget cake and candles, too;
a day best ignored.
This week for Song Lyric Sunday, Jim Adams has asked us to choose a song relating to the prompts: Acquire/Collect/Gather/Secure. Hopefully this song is a fit since the person singing is attempting to acquire ‘dat ding.’
Lyrics
Gimme Dat Ding
That’s right, That’s right
I’m sad and blue
‘Cause I can’t do the Boogaloo
I’m lost, I’m lost
Can’t do my thing
That’s why I sing
Gimme, Gimme Dat Ding Ah…
Gimme Dat, Gimme Dat
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme Dat
Gimme Dat Ding, Gimme Dat
Gimme, Gimme Dat, Gimme Dat Ding
Gimme Dat, Gimme, Gimme Dat,
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme, Dat Ding (Oh Sing it one more time Momma)
Oh,Gimme Dat, Gimme Dat
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme Dat
Gimme Dat Ding, Gimme Dat
Gimme, Gimme Dat, Gimme Dat Ding
Gimme Dat, Gimme, Gimme Dat,
Gimme, Gimme, Gimme, Dat Ding (Ah, you ain’t doin’ that late at night)
Ah, what good’s a metronome
Without a bell for ringing
Not once, can’t anybody ever tell he’s swinging
How can you tell the rhythm written on the bar
How can you ever hope to know where you are?
It’s First Line Friday over at The MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie blog. This week’s first line is:
Lush melodies drew her to the door of the lounge, the friendly smiles enticed her inside.
Lush melodies drew her to the door of the lounge, the friendly smiles enticed her inside. That, and a sudden urge to use the restroom. It seemed to be happening a lot lately, this business of peeing several times an hour. Evidently her ol’ bladder just couldn’t hold it like it used to. Must be part of the ageing process, she figured, but at the tender age of 40?
“Ain’t That a Kick in the Head” was wafting through the smoky air as Celia walked through the doorway. She smiled a sad smile. Her grandmother had loved Dean Martin and Celia had loved her grandmother more than anything. She looked around for a “Ladies” sign but didn’t see one, so she stopped one of the smiling waitstaff and inquired as to the whereabouts of the restroom. Surprisingly, the server put her tray down and walked Celia right to the restroom door.
She thought about asking the kind woman if she could pee for her too, but thought better of it. Not everyone appreciated Celia’s warped sense of humor.
As long as she was in a cocktail lounge, and there was an absolutely gorgeous guy sitting alone at the bar Celia decided to have a drink.
She stood near the man but not too close and ordered a shot of Yeager and a Bud Light.
The bartender hesitated, glancing at Celia’s protruding stomach. “Uh, Ma’am, do you really think that’s good for the baby?”
Celia’s mouth fell open but she had trouble getting words to come out. “Wh-wh-what baby? What do you mean?”
The bartender’s face was a lovely shade of crimson by now, and she simply stared at the floor.
“You think I’m pregnant!?”
“I-I’m sorry…” she stammered.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Celia said in a low, raspy voice as she gave the girl a sly wink. “It’s just a beer gut.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” The bartender looked skeptical but set about pouring the drinks.
Oh, my God. Could I be pregnant? It’s been about six months since I James and I…Aw,shit!”
The bartender placed two napkins in front of Celia and set the shot glass and bottle gently atop them.
Celia stared at them for a moment, shrugged, then downed the Yeager and chugged half the beer. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and turned to speak to the absolutely gorgeous guy, but he was gone.
This week on Song Lyric Sunday, Jim Adams has asked us to choose a song using the prompts Baking/Bread/Cake/Pie/Picnic. I’ve chosen Cherry Pie, by Skip & Flip.
Lyrics
Nah, nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah, whoa-oh, whoa-oh
Nah, nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah, whoa-oh, whoa-oh
Cherry, nah-nah-nah cherry pie nah-nah-nah-nah-nah
Cherry, nah-nah-nah cherry pie nah-nah-nah-nah-nah
Cherry, nah-nah-nah cherry pie , whoa so good
Nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah, whoa-oh, whoa-oh
Sugar, nah-nah-nah sugar plum nah-nah-nah-nah-nah
Sugar, nah-nah-nah sugar plum nah-nah-nah-nah-nah
Sugar, nah-nah-nah sugar plum, sweet as they come
Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
(Da, da, da, da, da)
Like Little Jack Horner sat, sat, sat in the corner
Eating his cherry, cherry pie
I didn’t put in a thumb
I didn’t pull out a plum
I guess I’m not as great as he, whoa-oh, whoa-oh
Give me nah-nah-nah give me some nah-nah-nah-nah-nah
Give me nah-nah-nah give me some nah-nah-nah-nah-nah
Give me nah-nah-nah give me some cherry, cherry pie
Nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah, whoa-oh, whoa-oh
Nah, nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah cherry pie
Nah, nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah cherry pie
Fade
Nah, nah, nah
Nah, nah, nah cherry pie
Clyde Battin (Skip) and Gary Paxton (Flip) began singing together in Arizona in the late 1950s. Battin had come from Ohio to go to school there and was the older of the pair, but Paxton had probably lived a harder life to that point. An 
orphan from Kansas whose foster family had later moved to Arizona, he’d had a tough childhood that included abuse and illness, and by his mid-teens was spending most of his time trying to generate a musical career.
As was often the case in those days the guys scuffled along while trying out a variety of names for their new act, but eventually ended up with a record demo. It was on a song written by Paxton that had the awkward title of “It Was I,” but it landed the pair a recording contract and a new name, Skip & Flip. The record began to climb the charts and things soon began to click for the twosome. They made some TV appearances and also toured with rock and roll shows, all the while continuing to hit the recording studio. But even though Skip & Flip would eventually turn out enough singles to fill an album, the only other one that did well was “Cherry Pie,” a cover of an earlier record by R&B duo Marvin And Johnny.
The two guys pretty much went their own way after that, but both found a lot of success in succeeding years. Battin (who died at age 69 in 2003) enjoyed a long career as a songwriter and performer, spending a lot of time working in and around the movie business, and he also performed with groups like the Byrds and the Flying Burrito Brothers.
Paxton is still around and now in his seventies, and his career has been even more varied. Although he has never shied away from performing, he became a legendary producer, songwriter and promoter with a hand in many of the biggest hits around. He eventually began to move more into country music, and as the years passed continued to be a power in the music industry. But he went through more than his share of controversy and hard times before once again reinventing himself, devoting his later years to religion and gospel music.
Ergo, the Ogre 