My big Pumpkin

My big pumpkin jumped off the porch

And ran down the street,

Going door to door for Trick and Treat.

My Big Pumpkin is an orange pumpkin,

From the Safeway in the city,

Not a country bumpkin.

she rolls and rolls, dodging cars,

Laughing and shrieking into all the bars.

what is her fate? In a pie on my plate?

No, after making her a Jill-O-Lantern and scaring girls and boys,

Into the garden she’ll go,

To grow,

Into new and different golden pumpkins,

For next year.

Ha ha ha ha ha.

– Small town boy

 

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Play ball

Neither of my great grandchildren, nor my grandchildren for that matter, know much about baseball.

I tell them we went out every recess to play ‘workup’, the game that allows you to workup from outfield to infield, pitcher to catcher, to become the batter.

And we played with a baseball and brought our own baseball mitts. No protective gear. On the playground. With girls. And after school too. And on weekends.

So when the world series was on everyone listened, asking those near a radio to tell the score.

We didn’t have caps or teeshirts or other memorabilia.

We had bubblegum trading cards. Baseball players in bubblegum, with stats, which we collected and traded.

We went to the movies to see the game, in the newsreel at the beginning before the cartoon and the movie.

What I’m saying is that we didn’t have teams, nor little league, nor Babe Ruth; we had workup, where everyone got to play every position. It was egalitarian.

We didn’t chew and spit or grab our crotches. Well, we chewed bubble gum, for the baseball player cards.

And everyone could play, every position;  everyone, anyone, who showed up.

And we all showed up.

– Small town boy

Half Moon

5 a.m. Dark. The half moon is out next to Orion’s girdle.

At the beach, away from city lights, it all becomes.

I get my half-moon tan and do my half-moon dance in the half-moon light.

My daughter’s favorite place, a place of romance is Half-Moon Bay.

I do not regret the unfullness, but marvel that it can still do what it did when it was full.

Can I say the same?

At 75 am I half full, but still able?

Or am I overfilled, and reflecting His brilliance?

I see the half moon and realize it is still whole, but half obscured.

Am I half ibscured?

I love the moon and she loves me, even by half.

I see my half-moon shadow, still leaping and hopping,

Still worth the dance.

How I miss dancing; holding you in my arms; while the music croons.

So I will dance the night away in the arms of my half-moon,

Half-caste of universal love,

Half a life till it next recovers its fullness,

Again.

– Small town boy

What if they had a debate and no one came?

The last presidential debate is occurring in 2 1/2 hrs, but

What would happen if no one watched or listened?

How would anyone know of the wild accusations and aggressive posturing?

If the candidates debated but no one hear them, would it still be a debate?

And what would the cable news channels do? If no one watched or listened?

Would they shift to prison documentaries? Or cooking shows? Or 60’s TV?

And what would the sponsors do?  Would they still pay for commercials if no one was watching or listening?

If not, what would they do with their advertising budget? Sponsor stories about dogs? Horses? Martitians? Dolphins?

If the debates were not watched or listened to, what would the candidates do with the TV budget?

Would they run public affairs messages about gun violence? Poverty? Same sex marriage? Cannibis?

And what would happen in my house?

Wouldnt we sleep better, and await the ballots mailed out in Oregon?

If we voted, would the political ads cease?

What world am I living in?

Yours. Yours and mine.

We can stop this nonsense.

If we refused to be gawkers at the spectacle; if we don’t listen, or watch.

What if we prayed instead or talked to our neighbors?

Our muslim neighbors, or LGBT neighbors, or black neighbors, or republican or democratic neighbors.

What if?

What if this is all just a bad dream?

BUT it is real and you must vote. vote. Vote or else it will just go on and  on.

See you in the sauna.

I love you.

– Small town boy

Today’s Message

I believe the Holy Spirit sends me messages on the radio, in music.

Not always, but at critical times, if I’m paying attention.

Yesterday it was I’m addicted to love.

Today: You can’t always get what you want.


 

Both were timely and appropriate.
Please write me and tell me what music caught your attention this morning and whether you think there’s a message for you.

I should have known this since the call signs on my radio station are KLOO

– Small town boy

The Man in the Moon

The Man in the moon is a woman.

She dances with me in her fullness,

Reflecting the setted sun’s brilliance, in the morning darkness.

I love her and greet her return, with a dance of love,

Carefully driving through Avery Park amidst the fallen gold leaves.

All her mythology screams femininity.

Many of the most well-known mythologies feature female lunar deities, such as the Greek goddesses Phoebe, Artemis, Selene, and Hecateas well as the Chinese goddess Chang’e. Male lunar gods are also frequent, such as Sin of the Mesopotamians, Mani of the Germanic tribes, and the Japanese god Tsukuyomi.

Ignoring the fat man’s face,

I beam with happiness as she peaks out of storm clouds to light my way,

Quickly hiding again after a brief flash of light, lightening?

Now I return to the gloom,

But with her light in my heart.

Want some?

I can share!

It’s in my hugs.

The love I give you is from the love she gave me this morning,

– Small town boy 

(no picture available, she went behind a cloud)

Stormy weather ahead

Gail force winds.

Batten down the hatches.

Thunderheads forming.

Stay away from the tv and other electric appliances.

Do you have a basement in case it really turns nasty?

Are your animals inside?

Do you have enough food to last out the storm?

I’ve never seen it get this bad before.

And we still have three weeks of this ahead of us till we vote, 

and then what?

Calm seas? Business as usual? Or worse storms on the horizon?

I can’t tell yet; forecast fuzzy.

Outcome unclear.

So VOTE for sanity.

Ok, enough said; I’m going back to bed till it’s over,

And pull the covers over my head.

Yuck!

– Small town boy

Just a note

I don’t have time to write a letter, and what I need to say is more than a Tweet can handle, so

I’m going to drop you a note.

Just a note, not hand written so you could judge my mood by my handwriting, but typed, thus giving nothing away, no clues, without emotion.

So here it is, what I wanted to tell you that was so urgent!!

I’m afraid I have to speak out. I can no longer remain silent, too much is at stake you know.

If you hate me after reading this, I’ll understand, but I have free speech, right?

If, however, you agree, well then..

You know what I’m about to say, you probably have wanted to say Something yourself.

Are you as upset as I?

Confused?

Well then, you see what I’m getting at.

Enough said.

(If you understood this message, then you have been listening to political news too much!)

– Small town boy

Where has my exuberance gone?

I used to be exuberant, about everything in my world.

Trust me, I remember,

I remember the excitement,

I remember the feeling,

I remember getting in trouble, all the time,

And I’m sure my family remembers too.

Now they would call it ADHD?

And give me Ridelin?

My grandson, my great-grandson actually, wants to know too.

He is eight and he has lots of it, exuberance, this morning it was football; he’s left soccer in the dirt, so to speak.

He and his friend, from two doors down,  made a video in the park on ‘How toTackle’; watch for it on YouTube.

He’s learning about football in PE, how to hold the ball for passing, and now he wants,to play with me. Pass it to me. Run out and hook right, and receive the football.

He’s got all my exuberance, and more, he’s filled with enthusiasm!

It’s coming out of his deep Brown eyes; it’s in his voice; I can feel his enthusiasm.

But I don’t have it any more. I’m just tired.

But I have it inside, exuberance and enthusiasm,

I just don’t show it,

Like he does.

– Small town boy

The Mouse, the Louse, and the blue nosed pig

Said the mouse to the louse, Let’s get out of the house,

And go see the pig with the sky blue snout.

I dont know why, you need  to see the pig,

Is this frivolous or is it something big?

I want to se the marvelous pig,

Not because he does a jig,

Or because he eats a fig, no

It’s something we share.

Have’t you noticed?

You haven’t the remotest,

There’s something about us,

It’s something we share,

Something deep inside us,

Something others may not see,

You don’t see it in Me, but

Because he realizes it in him,

Discerns something of the universe, something kind, some empathetic response,

I see it brightly in him,

He sees it loudly in Me.

I love him and he loves me,

We just feel better when we’re tigether, you know?

Do you have someone like that? Said the mouse with an orange tail.

I do, said the louse, it’s you.

Then come along and we will go see the pig with the blue snout.

OK, I ‘ll come, but first I must paint my toenails yellow.

– Small town boy