2021 Jerry Brotherton
It was the neon sign of the
Flamingo Paradise motel.
Flashing lights into my eyes
that woke me up in that filthy hell.
It took a cigarette before I knew
where in the world I was.
And another to clear my mind
of the ringing from last night’s buzz.
There was gin on the table
so I took myself a little snort.
I looked inside my wallet and
I was five hundred dollars short.
I swear that when I went to bed
I had a woman by my side.
I told myself well ole boy
at least it looks like you’re still alive.
Chorus:
Imagine that.
Who would have ever thought,
this time it would end exactly the same.
Happens each time
I mix whisky and gin.
If I thought this time would be different,
I guess I only have myself to blame.
Well I tried to piece together
the events of the night before.
I remember there was a Llama
though I really can’t be sure.
I’m pretty sure she had blond hair,
not the Llama but the girl.
There’s a clown’s mask on the bed post
I’ll be damned if I know what for.
I don’t think she was a lady
or I a perfect gentleman.
I tried so hard to recall her face
but I just don’t think I can.
I went into the bathroom
to splash some cold water on my face.
There was a tuxedo and a bridal gown
strewn about the place.
(Repeat Chorus)
Written in lipstick on the mirror
was a note that someone wrote.
Said thanks for the good time husband
don’t worry—I returned the goat.
Now I swear this is the last time
I’ll touch another drop of gin.
Until the next time I’m in Vegas
when I’ll do it all again.
(Repeat Chorus)
Category: Poetry
Voting Booth
there's a reset switch
that will let us start over
called a voting booth
I don't think anyone can look at the actions of America's modern Gestapo and tell me that they believe everything is fine. When we are willing to trade our freedom for a few cents off the price of a gallon of gas or a dozen eggs something is seriously off kilter. I don't care if you believe in the current administration or not. Wrong is wrong. When one man has caused so much hate, that the tear in the fabric of our nation has become so wide, action must be taken before it becomes unmendable.
Sitting here on my tiny pile of rocks in the middle of the Ozarks of Missouri, seems to me the answer is pretty darn plain to see. Democracy does not mean, all for one. But one for all. When that one is trying to change the majority to suit him, then the majority must act.
Your vote is your biggest voice of any protest. From the local dogcatcher to the president, every election matters. Every vote matters. Vote as if your life depends on it—because it does.
~Modern Politics~
I'll keep searching
through
the rubble
and trash
trying to find
the answer that
perhaps
does not exist
thinking there has
to be someone
who can
make a difference
make a change
take a chance
to turn it
all around
though they
keep on
telling me
it’s futile to resist
I will never give in
Now That I’ve Reached a Certain Age (Part Two)
Now that I’ve reached a certain age
I worry that every bill
I get in the mail
could be the one
that tips the scale
that drops my accounts
below nil.
Even though
I’ve cut all the corners until
it’s now just a straight line
to the poor house
sliced the potatoes so thin
you can read the past due
notices through them
and still don’t have enough
left over to pay
attention or buy that
lottery ticket to salvation
The Silence of Nature
Sometimes it shrieks, hoots or creaks,
whistles, cries, trills or squeaks,
rattles, russles gurgles or moans,
babbles, crackles, grunts or groans.
Sometimes it chatters, chirps or howls,
baas, ribbits, hisses, roars or growls,
cackles, coos, squawks or crows,
chitters, bleats, clucks or bellows.
Sometimes it, barks, buzzes or caws,
clicks, gobbles, gurbles or heehaws,
moos, humms, oinks, meows or neighs,
peeps, purrs, quacks, snuffles or brays
the silence of nature is a never-ending song,
forget your troubles and come sings along.
Jerry Brotherton 