Phrases

We men write poems
as if we are going
to be pinched
or scorned

You women write
like bored cats
pondering a mouse only
a foot away, easy prey

We men are felled, drained,
ears always trained
in urgent need to find
an end from the start

You women carry water
in pails on your heads
none splashing out
and no dust at your feet

We men say thunder
and bloody tempest
and "Gung Ho"

you women say dunner
and did you see
today's sunset "Oh!"

We men say heart
You say soul
And we say "Hell"
and "What is that about!"

We men hear a scream
and run to heed

You women bear a child
and turn to one another

We men are dodgy dads
and trust no others --
You, women,
...are mothers

I was in New Orleans

1. I was in New Orleans

2. Drinking hurricanes

Most natural thing to do
"You are disturbing
Our performers, Sir..."
"if it continues,
You’ll have to leave"
A waiter said to me

  Poison brings me
Closer to Jesus

"Sir, you will have to leave
If you continue to wave
And weave

But—where am I?
I was in New Orleans
Living a no regrets life --
Thief comes anyway
Only to kill, steal and destroy
And takes my valuables away

  "..Sir, you are still there
  but I’m sorry you must stop
or you will have to leave

Do I have to cross
That old rickety bridge
..Old rusted metal
Crickety bridge to
Get out of here?

  "I don’t know Sir;

…if you keep falling
Out of your chair
You must depart

I drank three hurricanes
Before I angled in here
To sit through this Ike
Allison and Katrin’ despair

Oh, or do you mean the singer
When he broke a string
Did I do that?
Did I do that, you see
Because I’m here

  "I cannot, Sir,Give any reprieve
  Nor answer your  Lust for poison...
  Sir,  Now, consider the door

I’ve been hearing that
A lot lately –Yep --
That I have to leave
You know I have
Heard all this before

I don’t remember
How ‘xactly it ends
Spirit keeps me alive
While solvents burn
My insides dry
Like a gourd

Coursing through me
Grizzle and bones
Till I have to go
And find my way home

I want first bite
Of every night
Not just a slice
After everyone else

  "Okay, are you going
To go now, Sir...
  Here is the door

Can I not just sit here
One moment more
For men and for God

I fought
to hold the weight
I climbed and tore
At walls, I bore
Into dams
I held resentment in
in my hands
held jealous
To my path…

To my path
So that I am here
A friend to this place
Tho' poisoned patron
A real hard Hurri-case

  "Of your stay here I have foreknowledge No --
  though your condition I see in triplicate
  Less illusion More legitimate
  Truthfully -- Face your poison you ignoble man
  Zenobly, leave boldly,
  Day will bring all to soon memories back again."

NEW Direction MooPig Wisdom: Done On

From the Sparks of a Journal 

Initiated by by Patrick Darnell  |  11/04/2018

... Many personnel after a few years eating the shit sandwich of corporate dogma find themselves actually in a niche of the conglomerate of souls. Yes, free man, you belong to the company stow.

Please read my disclaimers below.

You're welcome.

Report From  the Middle
by Pat Darnell  |  21 July 2016  |  Bryan TX

In 1968 I gave a speech to the student body of my Junior High School. I ran for Student Council President. I made lots of promises.

With all the aplomb of an amateur auditioning for a golden ticket on American Idol, in 2016, Donald J Trump is making a speech before the world community. He is making lots of promises.

I keep expecting Simon Cowell to hit the golden buzzer and let Trump straight through to Vegas. But the only thing we get is political pundits blathering about this and that at the end of Trump's speech.

Trump says what people want to hear. But do they really want to hear what they want to hear? This is the cringe I get when I hear Trump pontificate. In so many physical ways Trump reminds me of my ex-mother-in-law. She too had a misplaced regal ego and she liked to tell me about all her sordid sex affairs, and I was her captive audience. Do I want to hear that? I just want to say to Trump: "Get real!"

The die is cast, and Trump will be running as one-half the equation in the democratic process of voting.

Because I pandered to the student body, or because I made a better reality subject, I won the election and became the 1969 Student Council President. The next year the USA sent men to the moon. My year as president? None of the promises I made in my speech were kept. I don't think Trump, reality show host, can keep his promises either.

That's my Report From the Middle, where the women are strong, men are good looking, and children are all above average. Maybe I just won't think about it after tonight.