• My Charms

    September 3, 2019

    Today at the dVerse Poets, we have Art as Inspiration, and introducing Beverly Dyer.

     


    I may as well have tried

    to tame a Mustang stallion
    or steal a mirage

    thinking my charms were enough
    to capture your heart and
    you would love me back.

     

    “Horse Galloping” Beverly Dyer

    Share this:

    • Post
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Share on Instagram (Opens in new window) Instagram
    • Share on Tumblr
    • Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    • More
    • Tweet
    Like Loading…
  • Lost, Found, etc…

    September 1, 2019

     

    “When did you know you were lost?” he asked.

    Nobody likes being singled out. Well, almost nobody.

    “Who, m-m-me?”  She stammered, wondering how he knew. The cameras were aimed at her and she was the focus of the audience’s attention. Her armpits were  sticky with excitement, and pearls of sweat prickled across her scalp like a thousand baby starfish headed home.

    “Okay, Miss! Please stand up and tell us your story!” Jerry B. Faker, the infamous millionaire televangelist urged. The crowd was applauding now.

    “Oh, boy!” she stood up, thanking her lucky stars that she’d won the free tickets to be in the PGM Club’s studio audience. She didn’t want to go at first, but her parents were big fans of the Praise G-d, Man show, and talked her into using the tickets. It was a family outing of sorts.

    She rose from her seat. “Whaddaya wanna know?…”

    Jerry B. sputtered in exasperation. “How did you know? When did you know you were lost?”

    She  cleared her throat. “Shoot, as far back as I can remember. I’ve always been…”

    He cut her off. “Oh, you poor, poor child!” Jerry B. gushed. “Did you hear that, Audience?  She’s been lost her whole life!”

    “Well, yeah. My mama an’ daddy…”

    But her abbreviated response fell on deaf ears as Jerry B. dropped to his knees in prayer and his crocodile tears began to flow . Most everyone in crowd followed his cue, wailing with out-stretched arms and bowed heads–everyone, except her family.

    “It takes guts to do what you’re doing today, Child!”

    “How so?” She scratched her head, confused.

    Jerry B. ignored her. “Coming here, alone, to stand before G-d and…”

    This time, she cut him off. “Oh, I ain’t alone. I brought my whole Fam Damily!”

    “Oh, are they lost, too?”

    “Of course not. Ain’t nobody Lost, but me,” she declared.“I thought you knew! I’m Lost, and this is my twin sister, Found.” She yanked her look-alike up by the arm.

    “Ow, Lost! What the f***!” Found squealed.

    “Watch yer filthy mouth, girl!” Lost cautioned.

    Jerry B. was speechless—without speech, even—so Lost continued with the introductions. Jerking her thumb behind her, she announced:

    “Yonder’s my daddy, Hyde, and next to him is my Mama, Sikh.”

    “Hey, there…” The proud parents waved in every direction, unsure of which camera did what.

    “Lord, have mercy!” Jerry B. shouted. “G-d help us all!”

    “Uh-huh. Amen to that,” Lost agreed. “Oh, and next to them is my big brother, Rock. And see the little chubby guy there slumped down in his seat eatin’ a hot dog? Well, that’s his partner, Roll.”

    “Hey, Mr. Faker!” Rock stood up, beaming with pride. “Me & Roll’s gettin’ married next month. An’ Jerry B.? We’d be right honored if you could see your way clear to come and share our joyous moment…”

    The audience gasped.

    Jerry B. Faker went pale and the show suddenly cut to a commercial.

     

     

    ar-15.com

    Share this:

    • Post
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Share on Instagram (Opens in new window) Instagram
    • Share on Tumblr
    • Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    • More
    • Tweet
    Like Loading…
  • Peace Out

    September 1, 2019

    It was a riot like any other: cops, hippies, tear gas, mayhem.

    I saw her a little too late.

    The uniform, dichotomous dimples, mesmerizing green-gray eyes—

    electric with hate as she drew a bead, grinned, and squeezed the trig…

     

     

    Haight Ashbury San Francisco 1960s

     

    Share this:

    • Post
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Share on Instagram (Opens in new window) Instagram
    • Share on Tumblr
    • Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    • More
    • Tweet
    Like Loading…
  • Wanna Be

    Wanna Be

    September 1, 2019

    This week for Song Lyric Sunday Jim has asked us to choose a song that includes, cowboys, horses, gun, hat, and western. The first song that came to my mind was. “I Wanna be a Cowboy” by Boys Don’t Cry.  Sure, it’s an oldie but then, so am I.

     

    Songwriters: JEFF SEOPARDI, BRIAN CHATTON, NICK RAMSDEN, NICK RICHARDS
    I Wanna Be A Cowboy lyrics © Peermusic Publishing

     

    Lyrics

    Riding on the range,
    I’ve got my hat on,
    I’ve got my boots dusty.

    I’ve got my saddle
    On my horse.
    He’s called… T-t-t-t-t-trigger
    Of course.

    I want to be a cowboy
    And you can be my cowgirl
    I want to be a cowboy
    And you can be my cowgirl
    I want to be a cowboy

    Riding on the chuck wagon,
    Following my man.
    His name is Ted,

     

     

    Share this:

    • Post
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Share on Instagram (Opens in new window) Instagram
    • Share on Tumblr
    • Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    • More
    • Tweet
    Like Loading…
  • Whispered

    Whispered

    August 26, 2019

    Today’s writing prompt at the dVerse Poets Pub is the word, tranquility.


    In the tranquil, sweet

    heart of the night

    and the only other

    sounds are dried oak leaves

    tickling the sidewalk,

    the most beautiful words

    in the world

    are the ones formed

    by your lips and whispered

    to me —

    just me,

    and no one else.

     

     

    Share this:

    • Post
    • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
    • Share on Instagram (Opens in new window) Instagram
    • Share on Tumblr
    • Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon
    • Share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
    • More
    • Tweet
    Like Loading…
←Previous Page
1 … 95 96 97 98 99 … 230
Next Page→
 

Loading Comments...
 

    • Subscribe Subscribed
      • Ergo, the Ogre
      • Join 699 other subscribers
      • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
      • Ergo, the Ogre
      • Subscribe Subscribed
      • Sign up
      • Log in
      • Report this content
      • View site in Reader
      • Manage subscriptions
      • Collapse this bar
    %d