richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Humor

The Wal-Mart Blues

Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

Beer bellies and bad tattoos,
26 check-out lines and just two a-workin’,
I got the Wal-Mart blues,
Flip-flops malfunctioning,
You don’t need no shoes,
Keep on walkin’,
I got the Wal-Mart Blues,
Leave your cart in the space I’m parkin’,
Cut me off while I choose,
The biscuit I’d be eatin’,
I got the Wal-Mart blues,
Customer service manager smirkin’,
When I tell her the news,
My lawn mower ain’t startin’,
I got the Wal-Mart blues,
All over searchin’,
The automotive center for clues,
Bald heads with pony tails lurkin’
I got the Wal-Mart blues,
The register ain’t checkin’
Dude on steroids tries to schomooze,
The cute pharmacist who just started workin’
And I still got the Wal-Mart blues.

–Richard Bryant

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Poetry

Pollen – A Poem

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I lift my fist,
in allergic opposition
to the pollen all about me,
my nose and eyes
stand in full revolt.
I blow its green dust,
rebuke pollen’s seasonal hold
where it lands
as I look and sigh
the unending mist,
never ceases to be,
everywhere I touch,
and everything I see.

-Richard Bryant

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Poetry, Prayers

Life God, Life (A Poem)

Photo by Mike B on Pexels.com

I feel, I hear, I know, I think,
God
that you are real and I am small,
standing here in my bare feet,
I feel my heart,
Beat
Beat
Beat
the rhythm of life pulsing through my simple veins,
with each pump your grace rains,
through the corners of my body and soul,
Life God, Life,
I need more of you,
Take me to where you are!
the rhythmic corners of your beating heart,
on the Street,
where People meet,
the Divine is seeking,
to find and gather,
those who are Scattered,
Up
Down
Around
and All about.

–Richard Bryant

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Lectionary Reflections, Prayers

A Benediction

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

May you speak the language of silence today,
May you hear the sounds between words,
May you embrace the quiet hours of the night,
May you seek empty stillness before sunsets,
May your faith in listening be stronger than your desire to speak,
May the rhythm of our breathing reflect the hopeful phrasing of our words.
May the silence nourish your soul and feed forgiveness.

–Richard Bryant

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Poetry

Specific Ambiguous Beliefs – A Poem

Photo by Ali Arapou011flu on Pexels.com

Awakened to specific ambiguous beliefs,
An awkward exhortation for moral proof,
Rattling window panes of middle-class grief,
The thunderous silence of now calls from here,
Barefoot visions do not choose testaments of truth,
Washed in streams of frantic flowing fear.

–Richard Bryant

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Poetry

E-Flat Major (A Poem)

Photo by Steve Johnson on Pexels.com

No matter what time of day
I still hear the notes
I cannot play
without the pain
Of the ruler
coming down
upon my knuckles,
the Thumping sound
sharp aches
hurting pride
no matter how
hard I try
I still hold
E flat major
in my soul.
My fingers move
as far as they can,
and I hear the chord
in my hands.

–Richard Bryant

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Humor

The Evolution of Ho, Ho, Ho (A Poem)

He he,
He haw,
Miss MinnHEPearl.
No.
He hi,
Hi he,
Ho hi,
Hi ho,
Ho he,
He ho,
Ho, ho, hi
‘ve got the world on a string,
sitting on a reindeer,
Hi, ho, hum,
Ho, hum, he,
Ho, hi, ho,
Hi, ho, hi, ho,
it’s off to gift we go,
no. No. NO.
Ho, ho, ho?
Yes, we go, go go.

–Richard Bryant

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Humor, Poetry

Publicity Photos

I’m just saying,
those publicity photos on the wall,
will not do at all,
I’m just saying,
the 80’s called,
they want their stringy hair back,
the late 70’s called,
those faux dusters still look slack,
the misspelled names department phoned,
the wampum, hawgs, and dawgs have all gone home,
I’m just saying,
these goatees will not do,
the bad facial hair department called you,
you might want to take these down too,
I’m just saying,
the next time they call,
tell them you’re already on the 21st-century ball.

–Richard Bryant

 

*image courtesy Trip Advisor

richardlowellbryant Food for Thought, Humor, Leadership and Personal Growth, Poetry

The Late Modern Produce Machine

 

Bienvenue to the
produce machine.
I am broke do tell,
even today,
because I can’t spell:
zookene,
maters,
bale peprs,
taters,
hallo peno peprs,
or
them small blak things,
I confuse with large flies,
that look something like,
Little gray paes with black eyes.

–Richard Bryant