Call Me Bruce

I’m Chuck Norris with a 250 pound, 5′ 11″ 59 year old body,

Look me in the eye.

If I was younger and my physique was not so shoddy,

You’d see my fists can fly.

I’m Albert Einstein and Ravi Zacharias all rolled into one,

My wisdom known near and far.

Of course today I can’t even remember

Where the keys are for my car.

I am the politician with all the answers for mankind,

My popularity is soaring,

Yet while I preach from the pulpit on any given Sunday,

I hear somebody snoring.

Here I come just a walking down the street

With a million dollar smile.

Little do the people who see me know

I can barely walk a mile.

If I could only be the man up in my head,

I would be John Wayne, Tozer, and Carey Grant,

Of course those guys are dead.

Thanks for listening to me rant.

 

A Hole In One

Out he went with his dream to make the changes

And strapped to his waist was the old 45.

The star he wore was made of tin but his heart was gold

And from that heart his dream stayed alive.

But on that day when the sun stood still and the birds ceased their song

He drew that old black powder Colt a millisecond too long.

Oh it discharged a chunk of lead alright, about 250 grain,

But after one small ricochet it landed in his brain.

The whole town mourned for weeks and weeks o’er the grave up on boot hill,

“Here lies the man with heart of gold, and head with leaden pill.”

He may have been right you know, his heart and all that stuff,

But being the fastest draw in the West does not mean you’re so tuff.

He should made the ones he loved a safe place for to lodge,

Instead he spent his days in the sheriffs office in the the city they call “Dodge”.

Dodge he did, all his life, the bullets, cursings, kids and wife.

He was was known for keeping law, but his home was always absent, “Paw”.

 

 

Feathers & Petals

Can the cardinal be a jay?  Would he want to anyway?

Then why does man in the image of God, treat his heritage so odd?

He is not pleased to wed one wife, nor lead a thankful, fruitful life.

Instead his goals so hedonistic, takes something so divine, simplistic,

And turns his love for one another to covetous-hatred for his brother.

The cities that could shine with pride have caught mans’ cancer and hence died,

Replaced by tribes who steal and kill, yet never-ever get their fill

Of satisfaction.  Tell me what is your reaction?

Observe the birds who never strive, but always seem to stay alive.

Their feathered beauty taken for granted is some of the best upon this planet.

And see the flower in the grass, it never worries about race or caste,

Though often overlooked by man, is as fragrant and colorful as it can

Ever want or hope to be.  No it is not like you and me.

The solution that restores the nations, is worship Creator not creation.

Though He’s made this wonderful place, we have forgotten to seek His face,

And while we pray and make demands – to get the blessings from His Hands,

We seldom recognize our place, like birds and flowers who know His grace.

 

 

The Uncomplicated Life

Drink white birch, go to church, type in “archery” then hit “search”

Pizza supreme, Field of Dreams, big ol barn with wooden beams

Ducks in creek, 4 day week, chirp your tires hear them squeak

Silly poem, thoughtful gnome, birds feed just outside our home

Smiling dog, croaking frog, red fox family inside log

New mown hay, chirping jay, sunset at the end of day

Stars in sky, sleep draws nigh, katydids sing lullaby

Eyes of red, go to bed, best thoughts dance inside my head.

The Christmas Ape

The Christmas ape is not your friend,

Just kick his big baboon rear-end.

He will climb your Christmas tree

& give your dog some primate fleas.

Last year he came on Christmas Eve

& threw his scat at Uncle Steve!

Oh I am ready this year though,

to ward off any chimp-like foe.

I have a slingshot close at hand

with extra-strong type rubber bands.

When he shows up in festive clothes

I will whack him on the nose

with anti-ape ammunition

From my sling with great contrition.

So if you’re in my neighborhood

and see him running through the wood

It is not Bigfoot that you spy,

Nor abominable snowman passing by;

It is the Christmas Ape instead

With his swollen nose of red.

And if my story you don’t believe

Just go inquire of Uncle Steve.

potato

(The potato has nothing to do with Christmas, just like an ape.  However, it is here to remind us all that no primates were hurt during the creation of this fine piece of holiday poetry.  Next time you see a potato you will sub-consciously remind yourself to be kind to apes.  This is good.  It is wise to keep potatoes on hand Christmas as they are great for filling those empty spaces in Christmas stockings.)

Please share if you like. Share if you don’t like.  Let’s fill the internet bloggery with the great ape message, no one needs to hear.

The Intimate Sky

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Can the sunset see us here below

As it shadows the hollows and woodland?

Does it mate with evening and give birth

To midnight’s coal dark sky?

Does it blush with scarlet hues

Because we see the sky’s intimate love song

And hear the Katydid’s soliloquies of end of day?

As stars commence to dance above

And the moon strokes it’s fiddle,

I never cease to be amazed

At eventide’s conception.

Beyond the Screen Door

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Beyond the screen door there’s much to be explored,

My little dog anticipating her chance to be deplored.

Still I have not decided if I should go out there

For I find a place of comfort right here upon this chair.

Upon my leg she stands staring at me with those eyes,

Whining, spinning and grumbling about a rabbit she has spied.

How often we were going out and the weather was severe

She had no intentions of moving for a thunderstorm was near.

But now a furry rodent has trespassed on her land

And it’s obviously imperative she have the upper hand.

So up I go to leave her out but what would you have thunk:

The little furry rabbit turned out to be a skunk!