Timely

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Hey,
(read this next part,
in your silent voice,
deep in your heart)
I’ve been thinking,
If you need me to help,
I’ll be glad to pick up stuff
If I’ve got the time,
I see the clothes on the ground,
Right now,
I’m really comfortable,
laying down,
it’s not a good time for me,
not really timely,
at the moment,
doing stuff is a bit tiresome,
I’d mow the yard,
but hey,
it’s hot and hard,
but baby,
I’d catch you a fish,
but you know,
they make me sick,
so baby girl,
remember this,
I”ll do anything,
except,
be accommodating,
or find something to fix.

–Richard Bryant

Poetry in Response to the Lord’s Prayer (Luke 11:1-13)

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Jesus,
You heard what was said,
John the B,
Is now dead,
I got so much,
I need to say,
Is God listening?
You know how to pray,
Teach me the words,
Y’all used to lay,
Up on God’s heart,
Not the cheesy clichés,
Simple words from the start,
God’s name is holy,
A coming kingdom,
Was Herod’s bitter pill,
Ain’t no euphemisms,
A verbal exorcism,
Of strung together empty words,
Doing God’s will,
Don’t look like nothing I’ve seen:
On Earth,
Is that what I read?
“Pray for my daily bread?”
Surely you do not mean,
While my bread is mine,
Vengeance is thine?
My enemies get off clean?
This prayer,
Is more than it seems.

–Richard Bryant

Poetry from the Common House Cat

 

maxresdefaultHey,
I’m in heat,
You know what that means,
At this crucial time,
I’m so really sweet,
Not the narcissistic witch,
You claim to have found,
In a toxic waste ditch,
I’m prepared to be,
Exceptionally nice,
I might let you,
Rub my head,
More than twice,
While I gurgle,
About that time,
I ate beans and mice,
If I’m on my heat,
I prefer to flop and meow,
My useless gestures of love,
Lost on humans who squeeze,
Hopes of roaming the hardwood,
My dreams of killing dogs with fleas,
A self contained life of smells,
Amid nine lives I’ve accrued,
Too many jingling bells,
I am your cat and I hate you.

–Your Cat

And All the Pretty Pokemon Go Chickens

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And all the pretty chickens
Ran down the exit ramps,
To keep the Pokemon children,
From trying to drown,
Too far away,
From the people swilling champagne,
In generic solo cups to see,
To make obvious comments,
“How utterly insane they seem?”
The greatest minds of our generation,
Glued to protected screens,
in search of reality,
which will never be.
As one chicken said,
captured virtual turtles,
are the algorithms of the dead.

–Richard Bryant

The Sister’s Tale-A Canterbury Re-Mix (Luke 10:38-42)

English School Chaucer M

Prologue
The Ballad of Martha
The Canterbury Re-Mix of Luke 10:38-42

This house is fully a mess,
And unseen by those unblessed,
My home girl, sits and waits,
While Jesus the Lord pontificates,
Ale and rum gather and come,
Like Chaucer’s ink, in mighty sums,
French cheese and wee Scottish Chickens,
Delivered by Nazarenes in my Judean kitchen,
Plates scattered and sent without help,
Iambic parables told as disciples belch,
Jesus Lord, help me please, tell that girl,
To grab a rag and begin to swirl,
Round that spot, there on the floor,
A fine place to do some chores,
Jesus, you’re the big MC,
She will listen to your religious themed pleas,
It will not happen this day, so you say?
She’s chosen the better way.
Jesus, we’ve got unfinished business,
Like cleaning that will go well until Christmas,
My sister Mary has made me word sick,
I’ve grown seriously allergic,
to this poet’s scheming tricks,
I think I need to see the Doctor name Luke,
Certain I am, of my forthcoming puke.

–Richard Bryant

White Trash Jesus, Martha, and Mary

MY NAME IS EARL -- "Made a Lady Think I Was God" Episode 206 -- Pictured:(l-r) Roseanne Barr as Millie Banks, Jason Lee as Earl-- NBC Photo: Karen Neal
Martha and White Trash Jesus

“White trash Jesus”,
Yells Martha from the back of the trailer,
“Tell that no good, two-timing, short skirt wearing,
Sister of mine,
To help me pass out the PBR and chips,
What does she think it takes?
This stuff called discipleship,
To sit there and flutter; her over done eyes at you,
While Peter pretends not to stare,
At her tattooed boobs?
White Trash Jesus,
Tell Mary to get off her ass,
And help my worn out knees,
‘Cause I still got to go out,
And cut the back grass.”

–Richard Bryant

Old Man D.B. Cooper

 

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DB Cooper once said to me,
The roughest part,
Wasn’t jumping out the plane,
Or dodging the wind,
Even flying through rain,
But buying prescriptions
With no healthcare plan,
When your seventy three,
And nobody would believe,
You just a limping roofer,
With thousands of dollars,
Named DB Cooper,
or a paint scraper,
named Don Draper.

–Richard Bryant