Whiskey, Wimmen and Whisker Burns

(An Old Song Gone Bad)

Scotch and soda
Mud in your eye
Baby do I feel high
oh me, oh my ...

That next town seems
so outta reach
just outta reach

Dat' woman g'wan kill de family
to get her way ...
She sell her soul cheap
Oh me, oh my ...

Dry Martini
jigger of Gin
Oh, what a spell
they got me in
Oh my ...
... Do I feel high.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Visitors and Brain Industries

Elongated cranium
fashion from
Sirius B and A,
Potolo Ama,
and Dogons,
knew it --
"Star Knowledge"
nomenclature
told through oral culture.

Artisans -- split apart hybrids ...

Catalogers left to hash it out ...

Sirius B -- how far away is that?

Zuni -- 1200 BC
Egypt is at bat

Dogon Spacemen
visitors, Sky People
Keepers of Space

Cachinas:
Dance each year
in full head dress
in costumes to re-enact
coming of Space gods
and elongated cranius
That's a fact!

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Hotel Chelsea

Meetin' Maggie at the Hotel Chelsea
Will the door man
diffuse the situation

Waiting waiting waiting by the gate
to hear the voice of coma

The gate is a trap door
friends are measured like teeth

Gates separated by long walkway
ramps to run rapid transit

Quietly quickly to pedestrian heart beat
... to connecting flights

Funny looking feet
At Chelsea Hotel ...
... we're gonna' meet!



Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Humanism

by Pat Darnell

Like trying to sell
life insurance to
a Muslim

O r to collect long term healthcare
stipends from Hindi's

as if under cloak
covering dimensions
of space and time
...  innuendos
Where is the joy?

Where children are born
and leavened to humankind
to be treated rough
in rites of passage
meant to set them apart
as what ... warriors?

this nightmare
feeds terror
surmounts to blood terror
and terror of death
feeding terror again ...

Many that will shorten
their already short lives

and choose very differently
from their fathers' lifestyles

regard other lifestyles
other than
trodden paths
of descendants past

of rivaling fathers
those who are
rodding their child
to be canon fodder

A basic question
put before Protestant Hedonists
and profiling Humanists

Who are you who were commanded
to love God the Father
and to encourage one another
Until His return?




Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Florida, Orlando

Bocce ball
Blue crab not moving
4 candles --
2 South, 2 West,
on a linen blouse
a lock of hair ...

Still life on a curb
Orlando, florida

A disturbance call
somewhere down yonder

Did ya hear the call?
Reckon we'll be smart
and git on down there ...
with no real Where to start.

Maybe muster our minds
Could have been passion
could have been economy of direct action
Probably just eviction ...

Yes, passion, I suspect
luster now gone, nonetheless
festooned , yes
and garland of confess
could be passions last request
and these left clues
on Orlando's curb
Bocce ball and all.



Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Sore Nation

by Pat Darnell

You cried to our hearts
You thought for us
 ... not we listened

Look about us now
You say, I have laid out
your lives in reason.

Built
Repair
Guilt
Despair

Control re-entry
You cried to our minds
Chosen minds focussed
instilled Revival from rind
you fortified and buttressed
... Reviled death
... Sought fitness
and strengthened in spirit
Deliverance in abundance
Disinterment, decisioness,
You sore nation, our fortress.


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Staying Naive is Best for all

by Pat Darnell

love is this stream
rippling on thighs
Spring water rushing by
my hand around
your torso
in gentle hug
bathing, listening
looking through trees
for love --

love for you, this inlet,
is this stream
where we lie
with ripples all about
pushing your thighs

love is not occupation
boots nor dust, but
younger stronger
deserving and robust.



Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Hurley-burly

I am the sacred absent
I am a chill down your spine
I vow trust, and love,
But torrents, tears, are mine

To give away and reset
to fall away and beget
to miss out on evenings yet
bend toil all night in regret

long suffer'g spider weaves her net
works at night, her I should forget
that moment when I was present, yet
victim in rising water, with tetra ...
[... glowing all around me]

I would drown that night
If I did not love you
shed instead my shaking ...
Shakiness that you always hate

I sent a message late
and a text too early
and the morning was met
with quiet hurley-burly


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Owl

by Pat Darnell

Almost hidden to bet
but not good enough
for my sharp eyes
and circumnavigate neck
my vigil gaze
sharp end fluttering wings
send chills down their necks
and wake them in darkest haze.


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

And the Fat Man Wrote

by Pat Darnell

All that's left
for some to see
is windmills
and lighthouses
and animal menageries

In the sixties
a fella was shiftless
and way to smart ...
Midwesterner sort ...

To let his what if's
go into so what's
Soon produced his bachelors
in philo of fine Arts.


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Grand Traditions

Careful how you
rewrite the grand traditions
or , How to not rewrite --
and be all big-legged;

Don't topple
the chicken cart?

Go land your cart
and catch instead
a mess of mud bugs

Just how it's done
we get it on
you kno'
Jus' go on and on and on.

Say: Hi Jane
Say: Hygiene

Say: Chicken, laddy,
Say: Craw-daddy!

a triumph ...
or et un trionfo' ..?


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Demi, the Life Changer

Pre-approved
Junkily
Corruptible passage,
Others joined in
With prevalent sin
we all turned
away from God
But Demi found us
in the end, at the path
of trodden wrath

Demi, the Life Changer,

She'd return for me
when it's time

All I had asked
is where's my daughter?

... followed then all this free verse
under bentwood chairs
over expressed on oak desk
to delight of rest

I headed into the wind
Southerly to a heading
not marked as unknown.
Only as a son born
to find his daughters and sons.

I finally slept it seems,
as Demi, the life changer, crept
back into my slumbering dreams.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Gimme a Line, Kid of Mine

START:

... the worm knows
about wormholes

everything that ...
is to know ...

[ ... ]

"So, I don't know
I'd love to do that
but I can't think of
' a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g '
Right Now -- Dad."


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

The Generalist Might say:

Generalist

One cannon ball
changes the way
things are.



Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Poetry Geist

by Pat Darnell

Tell the water
to be still
Call the clouds
if you will
Tell light
to sit tight,
Tell time
to stop ...
... on a dime

Tell those
who pray
to call it a day

When you feel ignored
Don't blame the Lord

Doesn't sound cricket
worms with rickets
on a pitch field of dreams
Being so thick, it
sullies the stream.


Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Trials

by Pat Darnell


To think, to even stir
Required eternal
And stop to say
In turn, true to form,

Someone out there
Invented this
Beside the stillness
Individuals fell against
The storm once made

Could not they
And all the rest
Have said good day

June 2010
Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Eat Up

by Pat Darnell

I been to the depression chamber
I been lower than a grass root
I was ground and dappled
Like pepper on a salad
Till my daddy give me fruit

He’d croon up to our rooms
‘Now hear this; ‘Now hear this
‘Sweepers man your brooms
‘Clean sweep down fore and aft’

[Twheeee ieee wheet]

‘Clean sweep down before we eat!’

This is so good
This is so good that
This is so good that the
The Navy eats it
Yeah, the Navy eats it up

I am tired from aches and pains
I been chippin’ paint all morn’
Hidin’ my chaw in my cheek till
O’er the horn:
... swells: ‘Twelve bells’

I spit a wad in the leak...
Yeah I spat t’bacco
To stop the leak
Until I return

This is so bad
This is so bad that
This is so bad that it’s good

So good, the Navy eats it
Yeah, the Navy eats it up... They do--
The entire floatin’ Navy
At twelve noon, eats it up!

It keeps us all afloat
How we care for our boat
We steam to Tuscany and Omaha
We visit the China Sea
But what keeps us on our feet
Is three squares a day we eat

Eat up old boy
Eat up skullduggery
Scrape and grind; repeat ten times
The hull you plug her ye’
But at noon clean your plate
... you see
Eat up and clean your plate
The Navy cannot wait

Gulf of Mexico; Oil Spill 2010

by Pat Darnell

Dirty juice
nasty sluice
and briney balls of tar

fetch me a frog
in this mutilated bog
and refrigerate her

calamity cross
evil doer loss
to thick to even stir

condition dismal;
crude oil baptismal
broken bracken interred

broken - then fix it
not broken -- then do not fix it
broken -- then do not fix it
not broken -- then fix it?

Dull sewer dirty
Damaged downed dinghy
when was it discovered?



Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Presto Chango

by Pat Darnell

Wonderful world
change -- indicators
Indicators -- lag time factors
Lag times -- industry
Industry -- increased gravity
My history begins ...
... in the Civil War:
... the 1960's.

That is, when I was
Eight years old
I was there,
When Change got its name.

ISS today:
... a change in collaboration
ADA EOE:
... change due to a water fountain
ENRON:
... change due to Oxley and Sarbanes
Black Matter:
... change in Astrophysics
Death of Crocodile Hunter
... change in journalism
Ethanol:
... change in Petrochemicals
SETI:
... change in Transparency
Presto Chango
... a concept that follows SETI
Photonics and Lasers:
... a change in light
Crime and Punishment:
... Legal Beagles trail the field
Fashion Industry:
... who can really tell?

Lag Times:
... Space -- One
... Aeronautics -- Three
... Astrophysics -- Sixteen

How many years left
am I gonna live?
So I can say
Life is elemental;
chemistry is dealt.



Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Nun's?

Impromptu Limerick
by Pat Darnell


One Response to “Inflatable Church”
Pat Darnell and Friends says: August 7, 2008 at 9:12 pm

NUNS?

Once I kissed a nun
who came very undone
in the pew next to Bartholomew…
Where I prayed

She glared at me in a state
that could scare diamonds off a snake
and send me to hades
in the back of the Pope’s Mercedes…
[Turns out] — She was more interested in passing of the plate!!

(Poolcan pd-in-full)

Paint_teeks

by Pat Darnell | 2010

Collectives

One Melody

a Thousand lyrics

One lyric

a Thousand melodies.

We are sold

In this country

are we Dead ghosts

Going home

at ____________?

Yesterday someone killed ___________ thousand.

Dead ghosts, why'd they let go;

a thousand Ancient forgotten souls

and all their bones

Collectibles.

Description -- At the Dog Show

Massive of brachiocephalic nature,

with a heavy appearance in stature,

covered in soft loose skin, her

shape like an elongated bucket

meso-form whose body is longer

than height at her cross, accentuating

her long form,

the bitch being slightly longer

than the dog.

The cranium face proportion

is her 60 to 40 percenter

width of skull provides three-fifths

of her total head length.

dog of medium size, eumetric,

Rustic and well proportioned,

with a straight profile and black face.

Seriousness of such is calculated

measured by how far it varies

from standard requirements such as

Excessive wrinkles in facial and skull

which don’t detract from the dog’s expression.
*
*
But my dog

has Square outline,

A triangular, narrow angled square head,

and an appearance light weight,

A tail that is curly, very thin,

... of equal thickness throughout length

some deformed, and then again

some of her sizes are very small and also very large;

Dorsal line saddle shaped, small chest, weak front,

Ribs insufficient --

She has tight skin without elasticity,

Light coloured eyes,

Eyes too close together and obliquely

Deep set, not projecting.

Excessive jaw protruding,

A few missing teeth;

Ears rooted too high in her skull --

A skull which is round and arched;

slobber that seems to seep --

skull and facial lines divergent;

Flat fine hair, a poor mask marked,

A long thick neck, insufficient.

But a very kind bark !
_____________
Retrieval by Pat Darnell
Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell
[SOURCE]

It Happened this Way

J says | October 12, 2008 at 6:52 am
[ ... ]

Now the whole “associative” can of worms is a lot of fun. Imagine that I wrote a hymntune (a new “Amazing Grace”)…and PD wrote the lyrics. We copyright it and a few days later there are two Youtube slideshows using our hymntune as underscore. One features photos of children in prayer. The other features photos of vertically-challenged transvestite albino nuns wearing Doc Martens and stomping kittens and puppies. Imagine how detrimental this second association will be to our career! Somewhere there’s a lawyer out there for this case.

Have I been “served”?  http://jinright.edublogs.org/files/2008/10/01-moopig-hymn.m4a

The brothers from the Moopig Marching Monastic Mass Choir had a few issues with the irregular metrical footprint.

Pat Darnell and Friends says | October 13, 2008 at 8:15 am
I tried to avoid being called out for days now… Imagine that I wrote a hymntune (a new “Amazing Grace” )…and PD wrote the lyrics.

Well, J, this will teach ya’ to never do that again…

Transecting transvesting
I’m lost in mySpace
entitled zigzagging
albino Schoolmates
vibrato clapping
paunched boozing
many nuns Catholics
minimalist specialists
Transvestited conjugal
A transvest tripe licked me face

Coney Isle warm begot mellow
Sylvia strongest mask photo’d
Marclein martelled cantorello
Prologue of the nuns’ priest tale
‘de Chaucer an old, odd fellow,
Blind Doc Marten Martello’d

Monica, aria impressed, begot ciro:
‘Waar kan je te koop
‘E’en husky als
‘splatted triangle’s blackmails
‘als puppies kopen dear’o
‘van spotter in noord… escargot!

Canto Kinta prologue’d
Double forte rittard
Of the nuns’ priest tale –
Once entitlement zigzagging
Now, nuns shit wedging
toward this ending
on a Discordant chord…..
and much oath and pledging….

Pat Darnell and Friends says | October 13, 2008 at 10:23 pm
Oh my Gawd… ( :-o Holy Mackerel !! Sweet Mother of Jesus and His Step-Dad… vertically-challenged transvestite albino nuns wearing Doc Martens and stomping kittens and puppies… making irregular metrical footprints

It’s a good start, I think… no? Not served: U D Man… *[genuflecting large big dumb animals]* We Serve U

Reply | Pribek says | October 13, 2008 at 10:40 pm
now I’m not going to be able to get that tune out of my head


PHEW!
Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Singing Falsetto

by Pat Darnell | 2010

The best place to play

They call the ghetto

Where is there a park bench
... to lay down
... none in the shade

Where I can curl up
... and do time again

... can't afford, I don't ask
... lead a conscience green

... read your last letter last night
... whimpered alone

... all for lost time
... scripts down a scene

Unscripted it felt
What I think
ask her: No. It's done.

What am I going to tell everyone?

Little League Sign Up Day

by Pat Darnell | 1995

Sun struck driver
creeps by
urchins carry
boom boxes on shoulders
along sidewalk warm
playin' winter's discoveries
like teenager alarm.

Cabin weary moms
stretch out
in dusty, musty
jogging suits
a little saggy

faded and bagging
on hibernated legs
and torsos a little loose
like pajamas on the Mamas

Every one out
for a look see
at salted curbs
debris, will there be
one more frost?

on Easter...?

before soil disturbed
by daffodil, tulip
strawberry, and weeds

No sign of Dad yet
no hurry, except
for those in charge
of today's
Little League Sign Up

Around you see
those with tans
already they
been livin' largess
heavy hitters
who split
during winter mess

Yes; some Mom's 've been yachting
Some Dads leisured on Feb beaches
near America's Cup sweeps
lucky ones with nose up
richer gettin' richer
parents persnickety,
their kids are all pitchers!

Try-outs in the gym
winters melting
in fields wetting
So the clickety-clack
of baseball bats
must wait till
winter whey
all goes away
in seasonal decay
is born Little League Sign Up Day !

Pain Never Ending

by Pat Darnell

My Pain is endless
it never ceases
On waking, it cringes
At dusk, infringes
Keeps me sleepless

A neck strain today
toothaches yesterday
rheumatism, eye strain,
I'm not pretending,
Enemies? Your revenge
on me, I'm getting

Daughters your anger
answered this appendage
As pain never end-age
Upon a man intending
no elder life like this

Sometimes a lung
sometimes a thumb
feet like slabs of numb
chest's dull nag ...
... head hung

By witness of bone
these prizes I bear
alone
can I mitigate home

No mantel nor cloak
to conceal or abide
this stranger than life
episode I wish to hide

My humble prayer
to God above ...
release all my folk
from this despair

Calmly, quietly,
in warm attachment
... let me go,
for these pains impeding
pain never-ending
no one should ever know.

Inside Outside

Play on carpet
with domino
look through a box
bang my head
on the window

Happily clap
with wrists up
and up, elbow up
goes wild my pup

The storm descends
always washes away
I get out of the wind
as the stormy weather
interrupts my play

Quickly return
to my Spring-scented day
in the yard ...
... full to the curb
covered with juicy clover
puppy runs all over ...

Play outside ...
till the storm clouds cover
play outside ...
till the clouds come over

Stiff thunder scares me back inside
gray sky thunder makes me hide.

Life Changing Events

by Pat Darnell | Foggia '05

Check all signs
parlay the scriptures
call the Comforter
repeat the six prayers
from prayer chair

Deliver pet dog
at kennel by dinner
Toss her to the chain links
she muffles a query:

Do not eat this
Look, I did this
... this or, this?
You did none of it.
I did every thing
You did nothing.

Light flashes
on -- then on again --
YEPP' and MP3
Cellular, then off,
then wait, then
crackle...

Then BBC, then engines
very large engines
Then a push through
weather

A rock skipping over the clouds
a stone flies again

Do you know
where we are
?

Muncheritis

by Pat Darnell

Hanging upside down
on a pine branch
like a wren looking
for an aphid

I let the Minsky
frisk me because
I wouldn't blow
in his tube

Then it struck me
this is like images
within a mirror
with attitude

And I swear
that is not why
they jumped me
in verisimilitude

Of my actions
as it is plain
I was only out there
searching for food.

(Today, May 2010)

Earth Does

by Pat Darnell

What tethers
us in space?

No tackle
nor knots I've seen

like a kite
on a string

pulls to earth
us back in

a bucket
out of a well

depth breadth
comprehensible expanse
trek out a far distance

not to be lost
at our entrance

looking for face
recognizable out in space

what tethers us
in space?

Everyday at 17:00 hours

Prophets are Jawboned


How can I go on believing the greater you is in me?
Burst-ed bones of broken legs into a fire
potash and embers of Yaupon and Aspen
And jawbone of an ass
Jutting out, smoky mass --
Turning watery eyes watery
Crackling, disturbing to the finish
A wash of mountain yonder made
End of day, in fixed array
Devoid of end shade
Fixed time light dappled
Ordinary mottled
And variegated home
of praying mantis

Darnell 2006

Tough Love

by Pat Darnell | Nov 2007

Don't you ever
want to know
how I got here?

'Want to know
how I put
this road
behind me?

I thought you
would want to know me
if I became a tree
you might carve
your name
in my bark

And return one day
and see how
I protected you.

Let Loose a Tear

by Pat Darnell | Nov 2007

This crying
should probably
stop,

in a decade
or three

I keep trying
to write
the alternate ending

Sort of turns
out like a
letter within a story

True love reared its head
leered at me
then went to bed

Goal achieved
like background music
at cinema twenty-three

Focus on victory
break through stillness
celebrate in warmth

Accept my fate
story goes on
as endless coast

Of treasure, love, sea
tears and prophecy
some old songs

Lifts a few of my burdens
takes me back
'n lets loose a tear

Concert of Circle

Concert of song
see the fellowship
of women strong
... it is the songs
of children ...
of child birth ...
and so on

and of desire
and of great longing

Hush, maybe, do not disturb
their heartfelt songs
prayers in concert
... hear sisters sing
about their children
and their lives ...
with their hums,
between belling ...

Observe how they
grow chatty ...
around the bread
along with fishes that
seem to always follow
women ahead

Peering there --
just behind Jesus ...
... amid branches
sifting streamlettes,
and tinkling triplets ...

Singing their songs
to sustenance,
to strength,
from beginning to end
fellowship of women...
isn't it remarkable
their concert of circle.

Patrick Darnell (2001)

Descry

by Pat Darnell


Dangling at the end
Of the food chain

Was a soldier.

Who lost his wife
His gun, his son,
And nearly his life.

When then he found a clarinet
That upon it had his name,
A honed woodwind,
primed him in
breathing easier,
until one day,
He wrestled a tree
Finally fell
His body went
To pieces, which
All the creatures ate.
A happy feast that day,
At heaven’s gate.

His soul escaped
Not devoured
In final hour

A hand reached out
To catch him,
Put the young soul on a cloud,
At about half past two,

The soul of the soldier
Said, “Thank you.”
The one with the hand
Told the soldier’s soul
his new name --

“Metronome.”

And the cloud’s address
is 12, a matchless home.


The clarinet re-toned
with scales of delightful scores,
Notes uniform, and impossible
For human ears to hone.
On that same day
Upon earth fell
Twins, borne ‘neath
A channel, in gale,
whereupon two games
Will be played.

Each would owe life
To the soldier’s demise
While shepherds
Pastured their sheep, ‘neath birds
In their freedom flight,
To the river to drink

Their blood is from
The river flowing
To the iodine sea
They fly above
the living pleasure
as rocking waves knead
the banks, fertile with seed

As naught has ever
Been seen froward
Nor in reverse, evinced
In famish, nor, glory ward,

Obscurity, nor lucidity,
Neither scheme, schism, nor worry,

Beheld the brilliance in life
as a dread vantage of rough
High-spirited games
Dangled by threads above gulf
Just below cloud twelve
Stirred at soldier’s end, just
A gnash ahead in the food chain.


1991

Willy's Turkey Chilli Paste

Three years workin'
and he ain't tellin'
what it is ...
... you are smellin'

by Pat Darnell

Three years work ...
and pot likker still
tastes like chicken ...

Just Kiddin' !

Prawn to King three
clock is tickin' time
turkey bastin' -- let it be,
thrice cooking ...heat lickin'
Fahrenheit two hundred nine...

Farseeing, slow cook toil
like desert gravel boil,
mesquite leaf grind,
Darjeeling, still no oil

Mocking birds don't mock,
'cause beads of sweat pock
meaty cook's forehead
and his big arm-like hocks

Cigar meshed and wet
between monstrous molars
ash mixed in pot sweat
and ash falling to floors

Foliage swept and ground
watered in morning rain
added dandelion to mound
pewter pot boilin' plain

Beads of sweat
... form stains
on chef's hat ...
his legs and neck strained

Pot's right!
... he exclaims
Grandpa was right
... it is the same

But whoa it is tough
... to embrace today
what some remember
... as good old days.

But down home we try
We're willing 'n braced,
To sit by and cry
... when we all taste:

Grandpa Willy's ...
... Wild, Turkey Chilli.

[pd. 2004]

Lord let me die in a Book Store

Lord let me die
in a book store

So my last look
is edges of books

let my head fall
on the bones of Elisha

atop collections
of Natural Curiosities

In the Barnes at noblesse
or Joe's Book entrance

let my arm grow limp
under weight of clearance

99 cent bargains in tow
of Pollack, Tristan and van Gogh

So I will have died
just as the dead rise

so, Please do not weep
over my face ... nor book

You might get wet
the type on my place

or dampen picture anthology
of one more LOOK .

[pd]

Patch

by Pat Darnell

Shadow won't stick
won't stay attached
sent me adventuring
for thimble and tack
'n needle to patch.

Patch where past
meets a future
but jealousy flaps,
cuts quick ... a
perfect suture.

No more than rocks
can walk on water,

with little faith and stuff,
to arms! ... say for starters
shadow always tempted,
... sure enough ... Seems,
Shadow always gets broader.

[pd.2009]

Don’t be codger to me old man

by Pat Darnell

I don’t like being tossed aside
I am fretting my fate
Kitchen spills may be small
But too many broken hearts
Simply we do not repair all
You hear distant voice
A fond soundtrack
Predestined of choice
And you fret and crack
I had my heart attack
I reveal my full heart ache
You listen but abate
As heartstrings leave slack
Difficult flat to mitigate
even for hummingbirds
to trans-navigate
You are Specie of Strength so youth say
Don’t be codger to me old man
I am not interested
And you are in the way
Or, as you don famously
To point out the way
To clues of nerve chords
To invert our shameful play
Thanks but no thanks
You play too many tricks
I loathe your blood anger
And garlands festooned
Like piñatas beat with sticks
Seeds of salvation are rand
And not in your hands ole man
Nor in the works of your hands
From raptors talons, I howl back to say
Into this imbalance youth threw me too soon

Restorations

by Pat Darnell

We are founders unintended
... of sports medicine
we were the cutting edges
... when they invented
special restorative surgeries
... for the body mended

it was our duty back when ....
to offer our booty and then
... as cargo for surgeons' opportunists
our ankles, knees, shoulders and shins
... hips, ham strings, coccyx in stadiums
ribs, elbows, femurs and wrists
neck, nose, ears and craniums

and for athletes who fight and smoke
... a lung or two could be doctor's duty
We invented bruises, strawberries
All those sports injurious pokes ...
... that sound fruity; but we aren't chow ...
... we were there, to bust some brow!

And yes, gave it we our all
... enthusiastic to the wall
followed our coach all the way
out the tunnel hall

e'en to Korea ... if that be the day
we were there to win or fall...
we always showed when called
... smash mouth, crack back, football

Now look we are YMC referees
... and assistant coaches at your call
Saying in the Fall:
"Our knees once tore
when runners swerved ...
on dives when they soared
... ligaments and tendons torn
.. under pressures too great to borne"

And, one couldn't help that much,
since big boys is as big boys does
but aftermath spelled doom
on a College team there's no room
for knees crumbled and busted
... schoolboy dreams' faded to dust did

Today Mister Doctor DeBakey
at the Sports Medicine bakery
they repair knees precisely and quickly
Then you are told ...
... you to get out there and swiftly
and put your repairing knee to task

We used to run on sore knees, yes,
... but not because they convalesced
but because we had a game to play
back then, all that surgery waits ...
... for another day of instigates,

Run like a warrior
... kick like a mule
... dig like a mole
no sniffling, that's the rules

Breathing so hard
... you bruise your ribs
drink tons of water
... not Mr Pibbs

Follow the ball
... follow your coach
... warriors big, warriors tall
... We're stoked,
... smash mouth warfare, football

We old guys really did sacrifice
hoped those who'd come next
... would hear our parables
appreciate what we practice
and understand  injuries' tolls ...
... some aren't repairable .
and football fascism ...
has claimed our souls
and our injuries have played many roles.

King’s Vine

by Pat Darnell

Beneath King’s boots
Ancient vines tug
From exigent roots
And links divine

oak limbs hold them
Up very high then
How thick or thin the vine
Is how high the vine

And repeats ...
... for all time

Vine without End
Without end Vine

[pd. 04.11.2010, Bryan TX]

The TEXANZ Vote ... You can't Understand This

by Pat Darnell

For Texas to be cool-zz
and vaulted into modern schiz'zes;
it must establish new rule-zz's
that is, all the 'S'es in Texas
should be changed to 'Z'es where 'X'es.

That's Auztin, and Houzton
could move to the rhythm'z
of Dallaz, and New OrleanZ
flowin' like 21st century-isms

Too cool
on the bayou

and no one Mezz's
with things Texazz's ..
LouiZiana we assimilate
then make Vatican City
... our Sister State

just before we Seccess-'Zate
from the US of America reprobates...

... there we are just a donor state;
Federales, they continue to vacillate ...
in quack zeonotrope schiz-ates ...

NEXT Week press:
We presentate ALAZKA state,
put simply, don't mezz
with the Sarah's syndicate.

[pd\Bryan, TX. 04.17.2010]

Restless Rustler

by Pat Darnell




Just a Donor?

I noticed ...
The other day
Me brain ..
Began shutting down

Big galvanized ...
Heavy tubular steel
Gates clanging shut,
For eternity? Yikes!
... that sound

‘Life as moral issue –‘
Clang!
‘Positive reinforcement –‘
Clang!
‘Decision making –‘
Clang!
‘Objectivity –‘
Clang!

Mass on top ...
... I suppose,
Has no longer any time ...
... for all those

Ouch; I’m sore --
-- I was just a donor,
And now all is pared,
-- Less than more?
Does not seem square.

A surrogate in space;
During an erratic pace;
‘Where Life ... uh ... Life and ... er –‘
Clang!

[pd. Bryan, TX, 04.11.2010]

MooPig Movie Reviews: "Sleeper [1973]"

Imagine our future
as seen in this
Woody Allen suture
Apes don't read philosophy
so each one is
out for one's self ...
... could be,
our future was sunny
back when,
Woody Allen was funny.

by Pat Darnell

It was late
one early night
we were watching
"Sleeper" on the tube--
you know, with Keaton and her
Silly putty nose ...

She claims two
positions and trends
'Sex' and 'Death' as harbingers
-- presage to what will become --
but those two ideas have ...
... already been done, so that
When it comes to an end
we wish it to go on.

Elm Street is much changed
Robots like HAL, the avenues roam,
getting confused at crossroads
just like humans getting hanged
-- like Jurors' contrasting impressions,

Ambivalent as Nietzsche tomes ...
... as adverse to change in direction.

By the way; Sleeper never sleeps
and, whatever he eats, he slips on --
like cannot be real, because peels
and rinds remain behind with giant chicken,
which prompts the plot to thicken
and creates apprehension ...
... about His POD
left around to satisfy His pons ...

Di'a's and Wood'e's very funny troubles
often bring out their stunt doubles
-- like His new robot dog pet, Tricky-woo,
when He Sleeper gets his brain rubbed out --
Puppy is a sport too ... as its
command is his master's wishes ...
... makes one question about:
'Say, what about the fishes?'

We wonder why She disbelieves He;
because later He disbelieves She;
all because 'Big Brother ...
... redesigns their pedigrees;
so that two equals three --
'Till the end we are a'swirl,
but thankfully, in final scene ...
da' Boy kisses da' Girl.

[pd\Bryan TX\04.16.2010]

Kin of Word

Rosetta Stone Comic
by Rebecca Migdal May 11th 2009 (5814.88) Hello There--
I'm Rebecca Migdal, my webcomic is Rosetta Stone and it's better than being bitten by mongeese. Or mongoooses. It updates daily and you can read it at: http://www.rosettastonecomic.com
BTW--every chapter is also published as an "animated" comic that's narrated by the author, with original music. (No, I do not sleep. SOURCE)
This was yesterday's comic:

O_O

(~~)

(*__V__*)

Kin of Word
by Pat Darnell

Words of this age
With similar kin
Frivolous escapades
Pandemonium ruled
Din leaping out
darn world schooled
So generous reward
None have before told

Millions of syllables
Muddlesome word action
Ignoble Works of false passion
Some clipped like roses
bombastic tablatures ...
... scrolls of skins
Muddlesome prose ...
... and all their kin

Response to "Sky is Crying" by Elmore James

Pat Darnell and Friends says:
March 24, 2010 at 10:59 am |  Bryan, Texas
Another Impromptu Unsolicited Lyrics by Pat Darnell
Inspired by Elmore James “Sky is Cryin’” and only took nineteen minutes to pen.

[Spoken Introit over Slide]
Really can’t blame it
… on anyone else
even if I preferred death
I’ve got eight lives left.

Blues Man

[Music Direction: Sniffingly]
I’m a bluesman
and a Houston Astros’ fan
that combination …
… ain’t too sublime man [ya' kno']

So you see … like the sky,
I cry’s all the time
My last good memory
Comes from 1969

My favorite actor’s he,
… Ernest Borgnine, din’t you hear…
and, Stocks I bought 2KY…
tanked in twenty aught nine

I’m a Blues Man dude
and an Astros’ fan, so,
when the sky is cryin’
I’m a Dome Man too

My wiring is cooked
as thin as cotton twine
and some bad person took,
my good shoes all shined –

And then d’ey stole…
my George Foreman grill
That I got …
at Downtown Good Will
but e’en that…
… din’t cook all the time

So, go ahead on…
… ya’ll doin’ most fine
… ask around my neighbors
what you pro’bly gonna find?

[Thas' right]
‘Dey don’ e’en kno’ my name
[Jus' that I]
I is the Blues Man…
… and a Houston Astros’ fan
Cryin’ like the sky …
… I was a Domes Man too…
Just the same, all the time.

Hey now, I ain’t through –
I is a Blues Man…
… [Wha's my name ...]
… and a Houston Astros’ fan
All the time, just the same.

Yeah the sky is cryin’
Baby right down on my
South Side Houston Bolo tie
Baby I can’t take it no mo’ …
Tears runnin’ on down to my
blistered, bare naked and raw
bloody — swollen — toes
_________

Pat. Pend. APR 2010; Darnell

Street Urchins

by Pat Darnell


Be quick on the
Onto brother,
Bring water first
Before the others hit
Your water-skin shirt
and taunt you for fun
Fountains drip
Catches too much sun
Do not stop to sip

But bring water swiftly
To where we pitch proud
Pennies, listen brother
for many, of us grumbling
First off, coercing, a crowd
And then much worse

Baud cussing a’hitch loud
That’s where we will be
Around in the alley ...
... with powerful thirsts
pitch'n roll'n pennies first
And, and watch them hit


Like craw-daddy’s crawl’n
Go to hell you others all’n
Watch your pennies stall’n
Climb out of your ditch
Mine stop at the wall,
... leaners at a pitch.

Oh, brother, on, onto
Bring water ... Be quick
All my pennies are tricked,
My coppers are leaners,
‘n they ‘re coming in tall
We're gonna win it all.
_________________
NOTE:  Pitch Penny 

"There are a whole variety of games which simply involve the throwing of coins or discs at walls or at holes in a bench, chair, wall or box. This game has been going on for time immemorial and its origins are lost in time.

"The most well know example in England comes from Norfolk and Essex and is called Pitch Penny, Penny Seat, Penny Slot, Tossing the Penny or Penny in the Hole. Essentially pennies are thrown across the room and into a hole carved in the seat of a high-backed settle or wooden bench.

" ... Pundits needn't be concerned - this just makes it easier to construct your own boards without any worries. Many pub games have been without any official rules for centuries and all the better for it... ..."

Warwick the Warwick

by Pat Darnell

Clean sweep down
Hibiscuses in ground
Free plants from Wal-Mart
Top soil in town

Pea gravel border
Plug grass all around

Spring arrived Warwick
No luggage to be found

235 to Woo, Firefly 42
Torchwood, Doctor WHO
Marathons at sun down

cockle burrs all in a row
what garden variety are those
Remember ...
... big Ball's in Cow Town!

TEXT-ing Can be Third Party

You are a cold hearted person / E flat

You are a cold hearted person
I deserve better from you
I’m just asking questions
Not giving you the third degree

When did you lose your heart?
You don’t give a damn how this is affecting me

Relax -- your sixteen year marriage
Will be over soon enough
You must be very excited
Having a divorce party that night?
With your friends?

If you’re going to
Bitch at me; I‘m not interested

You disgust me

You’re not sorry
I hate your face
I hate your voice
 ‘n I hate you

You are sorry
Your lies are like
The words in the cards you gave me

I bet your boy friend is
Ready for the divorce
To be final

Refrain:
What did I do?
What are you talking about?
I’ve been nice to you
Sorry I’ve hurt you
(What you said)
That was nice
We do have two kids, you know,
We’ll have to talk sometimes
Sorry about putting you through
So much pain

C-ANonymous\ LDavis
"I put culture in my mouth, and poison comes out my ass."

Johnny B Hill

by Pat Darnell

Best Sailor E’er to Be

Johnny B Hill his self
‘best sailor on the sea
Johnny B Hill could sail your skiff
Backwards does he;
... that is ‘in reverse’
' best sailor ever-will-be

Allus' first 'round the course
... without paddle on turns
Rapturous His skills:
inverted as a straddle a'sterns
with strong hand on the keel

Johnny B Hill never had need
... no sirr’ee, not at all.
No clever intervention,
... P’shaw ...
Just wind, sail and a little bit a sea ..
... Come ‘e About! He’d shout ...
With no moment of detention ...
... nor stall

Oh, did I mention ...
He would back that skiff
Right alongside your pier
‘Tween vessels so stiff
‘en with them yardarms all queer

He's a spraying surf so pretty
As rooster tails go ...
Bow-sprits in a half-hitch kitty
Right on your bull nose.

'Dems my final words and I'll be stickin' to 'em.
(Pat Darnell 2010.March)