I know you
lived too long.
I used to
think I did too.
But, I can't
teach you this.
I'm busy
teaching myself
to be
nothing like you.
Rotten work
, picking scabs.
But no one
can do it but you.
I don't know why I'm so pissed off
It ain't the five hundred
And it ain't the storm
It's the dream that my writing has merit
And my sister won't give me the satisfaction
of thinking that I could do good
She's just like my mother was
Always looking down her nose
Saying I'll never be able to look after myself
Not believing in my dream but it's my dream
And I'm going to make it happen
She says "You don't want me to come up there
and take control of your finances!"
I want to be a writer of note, and I believe
I believe in the value of my work
There's nothing wrong with believing in a dream
And so, my Dear Sister when I'm rich and famous
the first thing I'm going to say to you is
"I told you so."
It gets into all the machines
and freezes up the works,
it coats the sidewalks and front steps,
and slipping on it hurts.
It sheens the railing so that when
you grab them gloves get wet,
it lays on branches so they break,
the living and the dead.
But worst of all, it coats the roads
in glass you cannot see,
you only know when your Honda
is skidding fast and free.
The snow will bring us great beauty,
stark sculptures carved in white,
and seeing those big, fluffy flakes
makes winter seem alright,
but freezing rain, I must confess,
is like the mosquito,
it probably serves some purpose,
what it is? I don’t know.
I hate to hate what nature makes,
but sometimes, it ain’t nice,
I call it scourge of the northeast,
I hate, I HATE, black ice.
It happens more than you would want it to
It happens more than you want to know
A child is left unattended on a bus somewhere
A preventable problem if you look in care
This time it was not a child hiding under the seat
Nor the girl in the back whose lunch not complete
This time near the wheelchair lift in the back
Was the older kid in the wheelchair at that
Driver nor monitor no longer employed for the bus
All they had to do was simply look and not fuss
So to all my bus driver and monitor friends I plea
Search front to back, and high and low before you flee!
A rant
Overcast, a doom of hot misery, is the day
windows are open, but the curtains are still
as ghosts on Christmas night
Every year at then in July and August, my
dream of living in a warm country fades
where is Alexander Dumas's mild garden
When the Arabs ruled the Algarve, they
too wrote about shaded gardens, wrote
verses of love while listening to songbirds
What's left of dreams, are beach umbrellas
colorful, but not a substitute for roses
and vulgar ale is not as sweet as wine
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
Some grandstanders aren’t what can I say
A mixed system is needed I do yell
Dems weak and do zip homie. did foretell
Biden’s Israel mid-east plan good. I relay
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
RNC foul;,get things done chum did tell
Ike did great things,Reagan too anyway
A mixed system is needed I do yell
Try the Green Party that party, I’ll sell
Green Party to quixotic , I do say
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
Libertarian Party is quite swell
If they lean to left or right they be bad
A mixed system is needed I do yell
Most politicians certainly do “smell”
Is a multiparty system a fad ?
Grandstanders are crooks as far I can tell
A mixed system is needed I do yell
What lay’s buried in my memory
Is my memory sometimes lies
Bloody Mary quite contrary
The canary quickly dies
Now the monkey’s in the middle
You know some monkeys don’t mean jack
Only if you meddle with a monkey
With a monkey on your back
You’re all set on settling changes
And the hope that change can bring
But if that change don’t change the outcome
Then that change won’t change a thing
If the proof is in the pudding
Then I’m the pudding in the proof
When your output starts inputting
Is when your heart pumps out the truth
~Billy Hitz~
sad rant
This day, when you know this day will be like the prior day
When you wake up and the dream you dreamt was dull
as the day ahead and your breakfast is an apple and coffee
drunk from the same mug your wife gave you last Christmas.
When you wake up and find the truth is relative belongs to
the receiver and the only show in town are propaganda
relentlessly called from every news outlet till your head spin
When you know, everything you write has been written before
better than your pitiful efforts that are fuzzes of great people
musings through the ages.
Yet here you are in a world where you are out of toothpaste
the water in the shower is lukewarm, and where is the towel
I have soap in my eyes, am I, like the man, who fought windmills
doomed to think I can make a difference?
most ordinary people
news on TV set
seems to be pointless nonsense
masses do not care
A new year to begin with a laugh and a grin, effort put in to resolutions and
absolution for sins. Your own and your kin (though sometimes you can't win)
I burst like electrocution on January first full of solutions but without execution
it's the worst, no thirst for follow-through just submersed in feeling blue. Yet when the second comes around I feel bound to what I beckoned on the eve when I reckoned I would change for the better, whatever range that would measure, a change of sweater? Adopt an Irish setter? Be a go-getter, write more letters, arrange an exchange that's a little bit strange. On the third, be absurd, write a book and find the words, have a look at all the birds, clean the crannies and the nooks, see your granny and has she heard? That on the fourth you'll travel north to unravel mysteries of history and hope this year is truly the start of changing gears to face unruly fears of the heart, find the love that grew apart and yearn to learn if you're smart, not of the brain but the spirit that remains and take your turn to reap the gains. (tangible or imaginable)
I guess we'll just have see if 2023 will get the better of me.......
What would I want to say,
If I could rant today?
Don't waste your time, okay!
No hard feelings, my way,
No need to be dramatic,
Whinging is pathetic,
Sniveling I ignore, my way,
Ain't misbehaving, anyway,
Don't snivel about chicks.
Off buns, other birds exist!
It should come as no surprise
that devil has evil eyes.
The day after the Thanks is done,
the greed for self gain has begun.
The sale of the year has just a few
of the items that cause tempers to spew.
And while yes it is true
stores have done it different the past year or two.
Friday morning the stores will host
shoppers that demand the most.
**Disclaimer! If RANT was a category for poems, I would list this as a rant. However, that is not an option, so I think this is best a free verse poem. However, it is a rant and it's a raw opinion of how I feel.
Sorry to break it to you
a message you don't want to hear,
but my Gen Xer friends
we all suck.
Okay if you want proof
just look at our children.
Are they entitled kids?
We taught them that.
Are they about looking after number one?
We taught them that.
Are they disrespectful?
We taught them that they could be.
Most of us were raised by boomers,
and maybe our older Gen Xer friends were
raised by the silent generation.
We thought we were smart,
we thought we would fix all our parents' ways.
Yet in fixing the problems we thought we had
we swung the pendulum in fully the opposite way.
So, if you look at the next generation
and shake your head and cry,
just know that we the Gen Xer crowd
are the very reason why.
Welcome to the life of a teen!
Where everyone’s stuck between
Where they want to go
And where they want to leave.
While all we perceive
May seem a bit distorted,
I can assure you that our life
Is just as full of strife
As any other and while maturity
May seem likely never to inhabit
Our poor young brains, this planet
Is a tough place.
So just give us some space!
And while we may abase, misplace, erase, seem base, or disgrace
Give us some grace!
You will not be a Bunny Girl
I simply will not have it
I will not let you work in bars
While dressed up like a rabbit
Men will grab your bottom
And thrust money down your drawers
And some will turn quite violent
If they feel those balls of yours
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