I could have titled this 'Crap From A Sack', or, I could call it "Kimberly Made Me" - these are various little poetic scribblings I've found recently in an old box . . . some are probably 50 years old and others closer to 20, I don't think I did any of these too recently.
Your hand was once so tiny to hold,
Now yours is big and mine is old;
Yet this really is not sad.
Though forever gone in one great whirl,
And no longer my little girl;
I will always be your dad.
When each of my children was born,
A poem I would write;
I wanted all to be special,
Nothing too corny or trite.
But it's not easy being genuine,
And still make it rhyme,
When after four babies already,
You start having them two at a time.
What kind of after shave do you give a baby boy,
What kind of food, what kind of clothes, what kind of room, what kind of toy?
I've had a Sarah and a Natalie, I've even had a Mary,
So why does little Mickey seem to me so scary?
Should I seek advice from others, should I just wait and see?
Or should I try my very hardest to make him just like me?
Pixie is my treasure, she's my life, she's my joy,
I just hope she didn't screw-up everything by giving me a boy.
When we're all downstairs,
Just in case we get a call;
To make sure we hear it ring,
I put the phone out in the hall.
She said she found some meat,
and I thought that was nice;
But when I took my seat,
All I saw was corn and rice.
There's this round kind of thing,
Don't make noise, doesn't stink;
It's kind of big, sort of green,
I don't know what to think.
It moves kind of slow,
Sometimes gets in my way;
If I've nothing else to do,
I'll probably smash it someday.
I know I don't always show it by the things I do,
But I know from the way my heart aches my love for you is true.
And since the very first time I saw you I happily knew,
I want to be the one who makes you happy, I want to grow old with you.
I attach this old scratchy photo to this gallery because, even though you can't even see me, my face, and I'm not really doing anything at all, this was around the time most of these poems were written and I enjoy the peculiarity of the time it represents - this is when I was a bouncer in a bar at night and writing these poems during the day.
School is over and so it's work instead,
A new world where you never had tread;
Now done with school,
There's only one rule;
Lie and cheat if you want to get ahead.
Now that the wedding is over and done,
You're imagining you will be living as one;
Now don't misunderstand,
Marriage can be grand;
It's only that, you can't have any more fun.
Being sick is really a curse,
Not to mention a strain on the purse;
Just remember someday,
You'll be able to say;
'ehh, it could have been worse'.
Follow orders and take every pill,
Try to rest and lie very still;
Cause if things go bad,
I'll truly be sad;
Especially if I'm not in the will.
A young man would reach way down to lift a little girl high above,
As the little girl grew year after year so did the old man's love.
This may not seem a remarkable tale, not thrilling, dramatic, or bold,
Yet as simple and direct as it is, it's the greatest story ever told.
"Pixie's My Woman"
by Blind Boy Mickey
I got a woman, treats me evilly, so evilly,
I got a woman, nasty woman, treats me evilly, so evilly;
When I'm away she wants to play,
But when I'm home she's on the phone;
Yea I got a woman, a mean old, treats me evilly, so evilly.
I got a woman, puttin' me through, such misery, such misery,
I got me a woman, she's givin' me nothin', but misery, yea misery;
There's a woman behind every man,
But my ugly bitch got a knife in her hand,
Said I got a woman, puttin' me through, such misery, yea misery.
A snake is bad and cancer's worse, this old broad's, gonna put me in a hearse,
Oh I got a woman, real mean woman, treats me evilly, so evilly.
All photos used in this hub are personal photos taken by myself or family or friends and all drawings and poems were done by me.
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