Spontaneous Western Haiku #1996 (by Wade)

January 9, 2010

(We are thrilled to announce new guest poster”> Wade, an artist who expresses himself in many media. He paints self-portraits on a variety of surfaces including toasters and other people’s artwork, and has recently turned his attention to dismantling, reconstituting, and painting discarded, often headless dolls which are then nestled together in the “basket o’babies.”

He is also a fixture at Southern California poetry readings and has published a book of poems entitled Madcap: Spontaneous Western Haiku by a Guy Named Wade. One of his first art pieces involved a doll’s head impaled on a skimmer pole, entitled “Baby Wade’s Head on a Stick.” It was utilized for emphasis during his poetry readings and lead to his self-portrait series.

He lives in Southern California with his wife and their furry children and is hard at work on the next painting in his admittedly egotistical self-portrait series.)

INSTRUCTIONS TO THE READER

Dear reader, read one line of the Spontaneous
Western Haiku #1996
per day. Write the day’s line
down on a piece of paper, put the paper in your pocket
and refer to it throughout the day. On the fourth day,
read the poem in its entirety. After that, your guess is
as good as mine. Enjoy

Spontaneous Western Haiku #1996

Old places, new days

Old roles are recast

A clown (The Ghost) sits alone

EDTIOR’S NOTE:

Hey Kids! Want more poetic bang for your buck?
Rearrange the order of the Spontaneous Western
Haiku’s first three lines and repeat the previous
instructions

Have fun!

Just Tell me that I’m Coming Home

December 27, 2009

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Just Tell me that I’m Coming Home

I just got my orders
To head overseas
Well, I will get right on it
At your service, KMD

Don’t tell me that I’m fighting
For peace and liberty
And the future of the Free World
It all depends on me
Don’t tell me Jesus loves me
For going over there
Just tell me that I’m coming home
That’s all I wanna’ hear

I signed up to guard my family
And watch them in their sleep
Politicians mocked my uniform
And sent me to Tikrit

Don’t tell me that I’m fighting
For peace and liberty
And the future of the Free World
It all depends on me
Don’t tell me Jesus loves me
For going over there
Just tell me that I’m coming home
That’s all I wanna’ hear

When I asked my sergeant,
“Can we go home some time?”
He just said, “Stay frosty
And toe the f—ing line!”

Don’t tell me that I’m fighting
For peace and liberty
And the future of the Free World
It all depends on me
Don’t tell me that Jesus me
For going over there
Just tell me that I’m coming home
That’s all I wanna’ hear

I’ll drink whiskey and dance a tango
When I get back to town
Don’t reckon that will happen
Before the leaves turn brown

Don’t tell me that I’m fighting
For peace and liberty
And the future of the Free World
It all depends on me
Don’t tell me that God loves me
For going over there
Just tell me that I’m coming home
That’s all I wanna’ hear

I could get my head blown off
Or come home with a stump
Or KBR could fry my balls
Next time I take a dump

Don’t tell me that I’m fighting
For peace and liberty
And the future of the Free World
It all depends on me
Don’t tell me that God loves me
For going over there
Just tell me that I’m coming home
That’s all I wanna’ hear

I’ve seen buddies blown to bits
I’ve heard children cry
For parents who ain’t coming back
But who can tell me why?

Don’t tell me that I’m fighting
For peace and liberty
And the future of the Free World
It all depends on me
Don’t tell me Jesus loves me
For going over there
Just tell me that I’m coming home
That’s all I wanna’ hear

by Richard W. Bray

An Excellent Place to Meet Losers

December 20, 2009

An Excellent Place to Meet Losers

Somehow the blue and the bluer
Straggled on in from the street
This place might not look like a sewer
But it reeks with the stench of defeat

Such an
Excellent place to meet losers
And guys who abandoned their wives
And staggering babbling bruisers
And people who screwed up their lives

There’s plenty of cursin’ and fussin’
But at least we all can agree
The most suitable barroom discussion:
The drunk who’s more worse off than me

Such an
Excellent place to meet losers
And guys who abandoned their wives
And staggering babbling bruisers
And people who screwed up their lives

Don’t ask me just how I got here
I don’t like to live in the past
I’m happy so long as I got beer
I’m certain this won’t be my last

Such an
Excellent place to meet losers
And guys who abandoned their wives
And staggering babbling bruisers
And people who screwed up their lives

So if you are looking for sinners
Grasping at bottles and straws
Or hopelessly gossiping grinners
And people who broke every law

Check out this
Excellent place to meet losers
And guys who abandoned their wives
And staggering babbling bruisers
And people who screwed up their lives

by Richard W. Bray

The House of the Dead

October 30, 2009

The House of the Dead

Terrence, Timmy, Becky and Fred
Went to visit The House of the Dead
Terrence was frightened but Becky said,
“C’mon guys, it’s just an old shed”
Timmy stammered, “Did you hear about Ned?
He disappeared the night he was wed.
His widow claims that although he fled
Spirits dragged him back to the House of the Dead”

Becky said, “Timmy, you’re just a scardy cat.
Ned went back to pick up his hat.”
“I heard,” said Fred “That he found his hat
But lost his life. How about that?”
“You know,” Said Terrence, “I think we should scat
Cuz’ I just saw a big black cat.”
Then Tommy bumped into a great big bat
And screamed for his mommy who had warned him that

The House of the Dead was no place to play
And prudent people knew to stay away
But Becky was fearless on that fateful day.
She continued down the spooky walkway
Terrence and Timmy turned and ran away
But Fred got up the nerve to say,
“Now Becky you know I’d rather not stay
But I couldn’t just leave you alone that way.”

Becky said, “Terrence, do what you will
I’m not about to miss out on a thrill.”
Terrence shrugged off a great big chill
And followed her up the haunted hill
The two trekked on by force of will
And boldly ignored with majestic skill
The squeals and screeches, wicked and shrill
Made by spirits that maim and kill

After they opened the creaking door
She grabbed his arm and they walked ‘cross the floor
Then they saw what they were looking for
Grisly guts and gruesome gore
And a hideous specter which they could not ignore
Appeared behind them and locked the door
He said, “Have a seat, I do implore
And I’ll tell you a story about the woman I adore

Her name is Rebecca, just like you
She died in Seventeen Seventy-Two
When a man named Oliver Sutton Drew
Shot her and her lover, Winthrop Larue
Oliver died a young man too
He was sent to the gallows for the people he slew
Now the three of us have nothing to do
But frighten poor young fools like you.”

Two bloody bodies appeared next to Fred
Their faces filled with terror and dread
Becky grabbed a bar made of lead
And threw it through the window next to the bed
As one of the ghosts removed its head
They tried to climb out then dove instead
They followed their trail back where it led
And never returned to The House of the Dead

by Richard W. Bray

A Monster’s Worst Nightmare

October 29, 2009

A Monster’s Worst Nightmare

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There was a dragon in my room
I slew him with a fork and spoon
And cooked it on my brand new grill
My mom and dad couldn’t get their fill

A vampire tried to bite my neck
I turned and said, “Hey, what the heck?”
I grabbed a pencil from my desk
And shoved it deep into his chest

While walking on a moonlit night
A werewolf tried to pick a fight
But I showed him my silver knife
And he went running for his life

A haunted house is where I play
And when a ghost gets in my way
One curse and three Latin chants
Scares him right out of his pants

Frankenstein thinks he’s so vicious
And I’ll admit he is pernicious
But he’s so easy to short-circuit
If you know just how to work it

The loch-Ness monster got in my tub
When it was time to rub-dub-dub
I lured him like all other fishes
My family said he was delicious

I’m not a guy who likes to boast
But mess with me and you are toast
Warning monsters: If you see me
I suggest you let me be

by Richard W. Bray

Low, Dishonest Decade

October 28, 2009

Low, Dishonest Decade

I sit in a Starbucks
In the town of Bill and Ted
As my once-great nation,
Founded with bold words and blood
Against the imperial yoke,
Horrifies the planet
With our lust for “revenge”
How did we who warded off
The brigands of Tripoli
Transmogrify into
Petroleum pirates?

by Richard W. Bray

Sunny Street School

October 27, 2009

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Sunny Street School

At Sunny Street School in Room Seventeen
Is the scariest teacher this world’s ever seen
So you better not mess with little Miss Green
She’s downright sadistic, not merely mean

She’s a hideous monster with a teaching degree
And she’s sure to scare you the way she scared me
When she threatened to feed me to her pet killer bees
When all I had done was ask to go pee

Did you hear about Steven who lives up the street?
He wouldn’t stand straight so she cut off his feet
And poor Patty Proctor was incurably sweet
Miss Green sent her swimming in a block of concrete

Young Horace forgot his homework one day
And we all knew that he would have to pay
When all the other kids were sent out to play
Horace was crated and shipped to Bombay

If you get on this woman’s bad side
You could be sent on a very long ride
Or end up looking like Frankenstein’s bride
She’s wicked and weird, it can’t be denied

by Richard W. Bray

Minor Chords (by Brian)

October 26, 2009

Minor Chords

I’m the fly on the wall
The varnish on the table
The ghost in the doll

Yet, I am never truly noticed.

But Enough about Me

October 23, 2009

But Enough about Me

I just returned from a whirlwind tour
Just bought this coat—pure hamster fur
It amazes myself—the things that I do
But enough about me, how are you?

Just got this car for ninety-nine grand
The only one like it in all of the land
With silver silk seats and a body baby blue
But enough about me, how are you?

The Governor called—isn’t that nice?
He wouldn’t make a move without my advice
It seems that his socks didn’t match his shoes
But enough about me, how are you?

My wonderful life is just such a thrill
Poor people like you just can’t get their fill
Of my fabulous tales of great derring-do
But enough about me, how are you?

by Richard W. Bray

In Your Shoes

October 22, 2009

In Your Shoes

A boy should watch his step by the creek:
“Don’t get me wrong, but you sort of reek.”

A dog is messy when he’s just a pup:
“Don’t come in this house till you clean that up”

A zoo is the place where an elephant walks:
“What is that stuff that is stuck to your socks?”

A friend is someone who can tell you bad news:
“Today I don’t want to walk in your shoes.”

by Richard W. Bray