To my wildflower

She was like wisteria
Wild and free and purple
And she exploded into view
When summer turned to fall

How could anyone know
That I would love her most of all

What I came to learn
Is she was wild and free for sure
But she bloomed anew every morning
In the garden that earned my blue ribbon

She never fades, or falls away.
The sun never spoils her color.
The rain never beats her down.

She’s my wildflower.
Untamed by my gaze
unaffected by my hand
free to run and grow
I am ever focused on my wildflower
The view is never bland

4teen I think

I’ve lost count
Of rhyme and verse and beers

And words that rhyme with beer

But I’ll fix it all, even if my methods are queer

The next will be counted fair
And I’ll be more aware

Thirteen hell.

Lucky thirteen and nowhere near midnight
Nowhere still closer to daylight

It’s the time of night where one party ends
And another begins

Every song sounds better
And the pool is wetter

Some folks can hang and some folks can’t
Some keep drinking when they shan’t.

The night is far from over yet
And the morning brings retribution you can bet.

Thirteen is though unlucky,
And maybe it is, when the rhymes are sucky.

But I’ve got time this night
And many more after

12 poems in

Another beer in and I’m back again
I’ll pay tomorrow but tonight I’m free

Everybody loves me

Or at least I see it though the beer
And the way they stay near

The pool is too cold
And I’m too old

And nobody likes my music

How we are

Times change
And walk past us

Tides roll and roll
And don’t wait for us

We trouble the waters here and there
And they still don’t stir for us

We tame the rivers and streams
And all the same they flood us

We move earth and mountains
And it crumbles underneath us

The noise created by our progress
Chokes and disturbs us

We can’t free ourselves from limits
We can’t tame what holds us

There’s no savior
We are forever bound

By the world we create

Summer weather

Dark blue clouds in the sky
Drops of summer rain in my eye
No need to ask why

Weather is decided
And we look above
Hoping that God will show us love

And favor the fruits of our labor

Or we hope we will be spared
From the edges that the water dared

Believing that we have favor
In this life and moments to savor

Life takes care of us and we don’t know
We are rich in ways the land doesn’t show.

With promises of what will be provided
Whenever the weather is decided


Don’t fight with me
About country music

In the rain or shine
You don’t wanna cross that line

With me
It is party music

Just not your party

You don’t eat peaches
Don’t sleep under the tree

Don’t fight with me

Southern women

Loud and southern and tattooed
Is the ladies I’m surrounded by

They are possessive and matronly
Some had kids when they were kids

Some will have kids soon
Some piss in the yard

Expect to spent money
On a fuckin’ boat

Menthol and vodka sweat
And a one piece bathing suit

Rio plays and nobody dances
But they like Bowie on Facebook

Such is my life through beer number eight
But a life surrounded with southern women is always great.

Beer four

Beer number four and poem number eight.
To hell with it, I’m feeling great

It’s still hotter than hell
But it’s okay cause I fell

Into the pool
Where it was cool

Away from the heat
And I had a seat

The water and the man in it was so fine
My wife is lucky that she’s mine

Off I go to beer number five
Steaming towards the next poem when I come alive

First beer

So starts the day of drinking beers
And the melting of all of my fears

Where will my bravery take me?
Of which inhibitions will the suds shake me?

At the moment it feels like I’ll be fine
And maybe I’ll have a glass of wine

Or maybe I’ll stick to the brew
Until my drinking is through

Maybe a shot of liquor
But I’ve started with beer so I’ll never be sicker

Responsibilities and inhibitions cast aside
Come along with me on this ride

Follow this exploits of this fool.
I’m cracking beer #3 by the pool