It’s simple I'm evil I live just like people
A human in blue man do bad just like you man
A winner a sinner I'm cold just like winter
A ride for my dogs and I bite like them too man
The light it ain't right so I hide in the dark
Then I hunt in the depths like a bloodthirsty shark
I'm a vulcher and vulgar I love her then dog her
I do what I want ‘cause my purpose is awful
I'm a black man a jack the have your kids wacked man.
A sicko a weirdo I ride wit my amigos
How many stories have been told
Not once or twice but a thousand fold
About the wind, snow and cold
The week before colder weather was in the forecast
Today there are snow clouds and it is overcast
Soon there will be a winter storm-blast
Off in the distance snow covers mountain peaks
A sign that snow will appear within weeks
Then shelter and warmth everyone seeks
Snow starts to fall lightly
Covering roads and the ground slightly
Enduring squalls nightly
Since it is only around midweek
With no relief of snow to speak
Getting around takes a special technique
The weekend will bring lake front snow
People will bundle up like an eskimo
Keeping warm as the cold winds blow
Higher and higher snow piles rise
Inches to feet no big surprise
Going outside would not be wise
But a man took his dog outside
Knowing it could be suicide
Taking one step they went for a ride
Slipping and sliding down the driveway
The dog’s leash causing a foul play
As both go violently tumbling away
Laying on his back looking at the gray sky
Feeling as if he is going to die
Too petrified to even let out a cry
His faithful golden retriever Ace
Beside his master licking his face
Ready to play a game of chase
After taking an award winning dive
His body starting to revive
Very grateful to still be alive
Getting up groaning from his backside
Bruised body but mostly his pride
Trying to look unhurt and dignified
He and his faithful four legged friend Ace
Head back to their brightly lit place
Welcoming the warmth like a lover’s embrace
The snow, wind and cold intensified
Everyone in the area was horrified
The national weather service was mystified
After endless months of wind, snow and icy cold
Shining sun and warmth was here for all to behold
Everyone starts venturing out of their household
For spring has finally arrived!
8-20-86 an angel was born
Sweet like a pumpkin but like a rose full of thorns
She had eyes that could mesmerize and a smile that could trance
She would play hard to get, giving no guy a chance.
Until she stumbled into the life, of one slicker then grease
He would pursue her and woo her and never will he cease
She claimed him a blessing and he called her his gift
Saying soulmates are real and true love's no myth
Now they're together in harmony for the first of their years
An example of happiness for their family and peers.
Cattle coolers shown up black and loud at 88 D.B.,
Sprayin’ water with half chilled air at naive folk for not.
Never used inside a building,
Much less a dwelling,
Ever housed the roar.
The H.V.A.C. handbook,
Won’t show them as a joke or not,
And nary a part of A.C. system’s psychometric chart.
A more effective ploy could be soaked shirts,
With motors at low RPM drivin’ fans efficiently,
Movin’ air without a vibe very quietly,
For max air movement happening per watt.
There are no engineers inside the nest of bean counters.
Oh for the love of enthalpy,
And pits left cool by fans and pumps pulling heat away at pace.
Og for the plight of a sweltering mass,
Suffering Hotlanta, Houston and Orleans,
Set free by loved A.C…
The Fox Theater First cooled in Hotlanta in ‘39 on peachtree street,
While pre war G.I.s watched Fantasia in technicolor and heard Tychowski in Stereo,
Loud and clear from E.V. folded horns, with southern belles and ease.
Hark! Now we are years four score later,
And mates have yet to rate,
The miracle A.C.
We’ve useless T.V. though,
With channels fifty three,
And NFL ticket,
Paid for by marketing.
But mates still wait for blow-up-dolls,
And bless-ed coool A.C.
Oh no don’t despair!
“There is no global warming!”
Said the bufooon with a smirk.
While the bastard of wine fetched them a perk.
My name is Robert R. Youngblood. I was born in Youngstown, Ohio, and I love words. Some artists use water colors and a paint brush to make a picture. I like to use words. I also love sunsets and long walks on the beach. LOL. Poets I admire: Jim Morrison, Stan Rice, and Anthony Kiedis.
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