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He’ll Never Row His Boat To Shore! (The Saga of Michael Brown)

December 1, 2014 Leave a comment

michael boat

He’ll Never Row His Boat To Shore!
The Saga of Michael Brown

There was a store in Ferguson town
With grocery goods and meats.
And in one day strolled Michael Brown,
Who stole some Swisher Sweets.

To mix tobacco with some pot
Is what he meant to do.
Though smoking certainly is not
A healthy thing to do.

Abetted in this robbery
By his friend D. Johnson,
Who then would tell a great big lie
As soon as it was done.

And thus began the fatal chain
All across the nation.
Just like those things that happen in
Final Destination.

The post-death autopsy, it found
Michael weighed three hundred,.
And he would throw his weight around.
Getting what he wanted.

Meanwhile an innocent white cop
Was out there on patrol,
When he made a 10-20 stop,
On Michael on a stroll.

Officer Wilson was his name
Just 26 years old.
A man with no real claim to fame,
Who did what he was told.

He requested that Michael halt,
And step out of the road.
What happened next was Michel’s fault
As to the car he strode!

Reaching through the window with
His gentle giant paw.
Brown punched Wilson in the head
Before he even saw!

Then Brown then tried to steal his gun
To shoot Poor Wilson dead.
But even though Wilson was stunned,
This brave man kept his head!

Michael Brown was so much bigger
Still Wilson kept his gun,
And though dazed, he pulled the trigger.
This was shot number one.

Brown then backed away and ran,
But then turned back around,
Then madly charged the policeman
So Wilson shot him down.

Wilson plugged him six more times!
And only then Brown stopped.
Was he high, or was it his crimes?
Or Suicide by Cop?

Brown lay there in the blood and gore,
As people gathered round.
He’ll never row his boat to shore.
He will not make a sound.

Meanwhile Johnson lied that Wilson
Shot Brown down like a brute,
While Brown kneeled, his hands to the sun
And begging, “Please don’t shoot!”

Johnson’s lies got spread all around
And caused an angry mob.
Poor Wilson got run out of town,
Just for doing his job.

Then, a grand jury heard the case,
With all the evidence.
Finding Johnson was way off base
And Wilson’s innocence.

But still the lie was spread around
There wasn’t justice yet.
Criminal blacks burned down the town,
Lest we forget! Lest we forget!

This is a saga about the recent events in Ferguson. I believe I have a unique perspective, because I am an assistant manager at a convenience store, and there are all kinds of mean people who come in and dare you to stop them from stealing things.

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Being “There” For You

March 28, 2012 Leave a comment


Being “There” For You

If you ever thank someone
Just for being “there”
Remember “there” is really “here”
Though most are unaware.

Maybe this idea sounds strange,
But think about it some.
Being “there” for you means
“Ring the bell” and I will come.

A person can’t be “there” for you
And still somehow be “gone.”
And when no one is “there” for you
You find yourself alone.

But if someone is “here” for you
It means that YOU must travel.
“There” and “here” are deep ideas
Someone has to unravel.

I guess it’s just like “left” and “right”
Are difficult directions.
Depending on which way you look
Like mirrors and refection.

In the mirror, left is right
Hold up your hand and see.
YOUR right hand’s the MIRROR’S left,
This is a mystery.

So if no one is “there” for you,
And you searched everywhere.
Maybe you should just look “here”
And find that I am “there.”

Categories: Poetry Tags: , , , ,

Fighting Sheriff Joe

March 18, 2012 6 comments

Fighting Sheriff Joe

Sheriff Joe is the toughest sheriff
From way out there in the  “Way Out West.”
And of all the Great Sheriffs of tongue and pen
I think that he’s the best!

Much greater than Marshal Dillon
And much braver than Earp, Wyatt.
What, investigate a President?
Well, none of them would try it!

Pat Garrett? He’s very famous
For chasing down “Billy The Kid.”
But outside of shotgunning him down,
Just name something else that he did!

I bet you can’t. And Bill Hickok
And Sheriff Bat Masterson, too.
They may have had their TV shows
But what else did they ever do?

The critics may disrespect him,
But Sheriff Joe doesn’t care.
He even makes the tough inmates
Dress up in pink underwear.

When sneaky Mexicans swim over
Across the Wide Rio Grande,
He goes out and rounds them up
With his brave Posse band.

The common people all love him
But the politicians don’t.
Because he does whole lots of things
That the other sheriffs won’t.

He has a lot of Special Posses
And mostly they ride in cars
Except for a few on horseback,
But each of them has Stars.

Which means that they can legally
Go out and investigate,
Phony pictures like Obama’s
Alleged Birth Certificate.

Which the nation has not seen yet,
So that they can touch and feel.
So nobody really knows for sure
If the stupid thing is real.

But assuming that it isn’t
Which a lot of people wish.
Just what could it hurt anyone
To see the microfiche?

So Fighting Sheriff Joe Arpaio
Raised a great big hue and a cry,
And called the Cold Case Posse out
To go give it a try.

And they called in Jerry Corsi
For to lend a helping hand,
In returning the U.S. Constitution
To what is Your Land and My Land!

From California to the New York Island.
Where Corsi had already done
Most of the heavy lifting.
But the job still wasn’t fun.

It took them six long grueling months
Of hard computer hacking,
To tear apart the image layers
And see what it was lacking.

But they did it! And then they found
That this was no Earthly Scan
Which had created that image,
So, Sheriff Joe had got his man!

So, will there be a big shootout
Like they have at O.K. Corrals?
The Secret Service Agents
Versus Sheriff Joe and pals?

I bet there won’t and probably
This will all wind up in court.
But all of us should show up there
To give Sheriff Joe support.

Then one day when Sheriff Joe
Rides off into that Final Sunset,
With his Big Iron on his hip,
We will all owe him a debt.

Someone emailed me and asked me to write this poem as a favor to them. This is the first poem I have published in a while and it was fun to exercise my talents again. She made me promise to write at least one poem every two weeks and promised to put a link on her website if I did. How nice it is to see one’s art be in demand.

Walking To Work To Save Money

April 14, 2011 Leave a comment

Walking to Work To Save Money

Walking to work to save money
Is probably good for your health.
But isn’t a very good sign for us all
When we do it because we lack wealth.

Most people are not as lucky as me.
I guess I’m a “Fortunate Son”
I only live four blocks away
So if its raining outside I can run.

Still, if you’re carrying groceries.
And you chose “paper” over “plastic.”
When the bag gets soaked and your groceries spill
It makes you look kind of spastic.

If you meet a chick at work.
And she decides to hang about
Until closing time. You have to run home
And get your car before you can go out.

Becoming Assistant Store Manager


Becoming Assistant Store Manager

Becoming Assistant Store Manager
Is not as good as it appears
True, you get $20 more a week
But I wonder if it is worth all the tears?

On the good side, you get more hours.
And more responsibility.
But you have to come in when someone else doesn’t.
Which can be a liability.

You get to go make the deposit.
And do some ordering, too.
But if the store runs out of something
The Manager hollers at you.

So I guess it is how you look at it.
It is an advancement at work.
But all in all, at the end of the day,
You are still a Convenience Store Clerk.

Thank God It’s Only Chlamydia!

February 14, 2011 Leave a comment


Thank God It’s Only Chlamydia!

Sometimes bad things happen
And you can’t blame no one.
Like when you have an STD.
Let me tell you, “It’s no fun!”

I won’t go into the symptoms
Because they are so gross.
Luckily we had the Internet
So the symptoms we could diagnose.

In a new relationship
It’s better to get a check
Down at the Free Clinic
But most don’t make the trek.

You just let nature take it course
And like Discovery Channel critters mate.
Then before you know it, it burns
When you both go urinate.

There is no need to blame each other
About from whom you got it.
Thank God it’s only Chlamydia!
Which is cured by an anti-biotic.

Categories: Poetry Tags: , , ,

$9.00 An Hour

January 18, 2011 Leave a comment


$9.00 An Hour

Nine dollars an hour
Is not that great a rate.
You barely make your monthly rent
You can’t afford to date.

At nine dollars an hour
You hope your car don’t break.
If it does, you’re walking.
Or the bus you’ll have to take.

At nine dollars an hour
Being sick you can’t afford.
You have to get a doctor’s excuse
The boss won’t take your word.

And you can’t afford the doctor
Or even the emergency room.
So even with a fever,
You just keep “pushing broom.”

Your canned good are generic.
Your “Brand Name” watch is phony.
Steak? You’d best forget about it
Learn to love baloney.

And if you have a girlfriend,
The only way to have fun.
Is to live together and hope
Two can live cheaper than one.

But if your girlfriend has a job
And you can split the rent.
Then you save a little money
And not spend every cent.

So maybe nine dollars an hour
Has a benefit or two
If an underpaid pretty girl
Needs to move in with you.

Categories: Poetry Tags: , , ,