I Once Had A Chicken That Went Meow

I once had a chicken that went meow

I need to go I need to get out now

They’re after me, you must understand

Please help me, gimme a hand

I’m constantly having to watch my back

To keep them from giving me the smack

Soon I’ll be taking flight

I’ll be gone before the night

The moon still shines in the day

It’s part of their sinister plan

When they get me, I’ll say

Who’s you, man?!

Sun, beaches & waves

To save yourself, you must be brave

I must not make a sound

Or else I’ll be found

They’ll torture me till I’m blue

I’ll cry & scream out for you

Would you come rescue me

Would you come set me free

My childhood comes wanting to play

How long till oppression they will ban

Soon my mind will stray

& I’ll say, who’s you, man?!

Circa 2000

(An old poem that reminds me how simple life once was)

On The Shores Of Ol’ Patagonia

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On the shores of Ol’ Patagonia
While the citizens did sleep
Youthful fear of affection
Yet into the woods, they silently creep

Don’t let on how you feel
For you might get what you want
The pain of admitting you care
& perchance it might forever haunt

The burden of carrying embarrassment
& possibly feeling regret this long
Thy youth’s clear true love
But hindsight tells me I was wrong

For I wasn’t brave enough to trust
Too busy being incorrect by name
Fear welling into my soul
But I loved her all the same

It’s not fair to bring up old times
Immaturity & self-reject are not a virtue
I don’t deserve her thoughts nor sentiments
In the end, never good enough for you

Still thinking of what might’ve been
Or an excuse to freshly misbehave
Angst & teenaged awkwardness
Take a shot & take it all to my grave

Jesus Was A Rouge Agent

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Jesus was a rouge agent
Calling out institutions woefully unjust
Up-ending currents & the status quo
Powers that be & reigning corporate trusts

Holding fast in the face of arbitrary traditions
We won’t look to long at your offbeat proclivities
Unnerved authenticity & outspoken truth
But they’ll chalk it up as additional incivility

Looking again to God, but knowing She won’t talk
Red-lettered honesty; realism against expectation
Unvarnished tales of the meekest souls
Rapt against our most quietly brave ministrations