Finished with Love and Hate Poem by Andy Derryberry

kev
Kev, I’d have waited the few weeks
So I could see daffodils jump
From the ground one more time

Instead you took a turn
And made an exit
Maybe a season too soon

I’d want to hear thunder and rain
Hailstones against tin
And window pane once again

Maybe after that I’d be ready
Finished with love and hate
Done with doing anything

Ready maybe, but I think I’d wait
For summer heat, salty sweat
Just a few short weeks

Instead you took a turn
And made an exit
Maybe a season too soon

Blazing sun, summer fun
Pretty women and bathing suits
Hummingbirds and jet skis

Maybe after that I’d be ready
Finished with love and hate
Done with doing anything

Ready maybe, but it would be nice
To know fall again
Crisp nights and clear moons

Instead you took a turn
And made an exit
Maybe a season too soon

Frost on pumpkins
Brilliant colors in trees
Dazzling sunsets after bright skies

Maybe after that I’d be ready
Finished with love and hate
Done with doing anything

But maybe just one more Christmas
And gifts under the tree
At PaPa D’s

Instead you took a turn
And made an exit
Maybe a season too soon

Happiness and singing
Lingering remembering
Of all the seasons before

Maybe after that I’d be ready
Finished with love and hate
Done with doing anything

Ready maybe, but just one more snow
Quiet and warm in a way
Transforming the world

Instead you took a turn
And made an exit
Maybe a season too soon

Deep in the blankets
Away from the cold
Warm in sleep and dreaming

Maybe after that I’d be ready
Finished with love and hate
Done with doing anything

But…

Kev, I’d have waited the few weeks til spring
So I could see daffodils jump
From the ground one more time
***

Pecan Pie Poem by Andy Derryberry

Pecan pie

A confection of seduction

Born in innocence

Lovingly made

By sweet grandmothers

Of plain and harmless constituents

Without dangerous or illegal sources

But, oh, the longing

The desire for the pleasure

That awaits

It gains voice

And calls

“I am sweet

And pleasant

No harm, no wrong

Indulge

Its OK

Even better

Its right”

“Would you like a pie, young man?”

I swoon

Sure it”s a good cause

The seller a sweet little lady

But I buy because I must

And I disguise my need

My desire

For pecan pie,

A confection of seduction

By Andy Derryberry
***

Marriage Poem by Andy Derryberry

Tangled Up

We don’t agree on much of anything.
I despise the tv shows she watches.
It’s a rare movie that we both like,
don’t even start with politics,
forget about religion,
fashion, friends, cars, colors,
hobbies, chores, work, credit cards,
any favorite thing, how to drive across town,
brands of soup, breakfast food,
when to eat, when to sleep, what to do,
none of this we agree on,
but
at night we sleep all tangled up

Heartache Poem

Reading by David Jackson  Music by Andy Derryberry  from Dreams

 

Heartache Cafe

It’s so nice of you to join us here at the heartache cafe

We at the heartache always I mean always like your visit yes we do
yes we always yes always like to see you
Well I went down to town one day yes I went down to town
I stopped into the heartache cafe…had me some eggs..a cup o’ coffee
talked to the waitress….read the paper….at the heartache cafe
Yes we’re glad to see you here down here on heartache cafe day
I was comin here to entertain you but you didn’t show up
now I’m standin’ here all alone singin’ this song to you
at the heartache at the heartache at the heartache cafe
Sittin’ in the heartache cafe sit an’ have a latte

a brief respite that’s respite r…e…s…p…i…t…e
a moment’s repast as they say
at the heartache cafe

 

david michael jackson 1998

Sleeping Poem



It’s Too Late For Sleeping

It’s too late for sleeping
and it’s too early to rise.
It’s your love that’s keeping
me up all night.

And it’s too early to wake you
with the morning sunlight
and there’s no need
for crying all night.

Yes it’s too late for sleeping
and it’s too early to rise.
I’m lying here thinking
of your pretty eyes.

I’ve waited too long to hold you.
Too long since last night
and just like I told you
We got it right this time.

Yes it’s too late for sleeping
and it’s too early to rise.
I’m lying here a dreaming
of your pretty eyes.

 

I’ve written a lot of love songs. This one is from a memory, a good memory.

Thank you for listening.

 

Thanks to Andy Derryberry for his excellent lead guitar.

 

david michael jackson  July 6,2012 2012   dave@artvilla.com    send sleep

 

Blue Eyes Poem by Andy Derryberry

Mystic Blue Eyes (you shoulda held on to her)

You shoulda held on to her
Mystic blue eyes
Deep as the sky is high
Calm as water in the morning
Rough as the open sea

You shoulda held on to her
That little bit of trouble
Though not so much really
Tough but sweet
Hard but soft

You shoulda held on to her
She would have held on to you
The time quickly passes
If you don’t hold on tight
The sun rises
Love it before it sets

You shoulda held on to her
Lovely little lady
You knew her for a while
I knew her from a child
From when I was a kid

You shoulda held on to her
Now you don’t know where to look
Will she call
Will she come back
There’s no way to know

You shoulda held on to her
Mystic blue eyes
Deep as the sky is high
Calm as water in the morning
Rough as the open sea

Wounded Bird Poem by Andy Derryberry

a wounded bird is in the road
it is very much alive
but obviously injured
there is blood

a car stops and a man gets out
his intent to remove a nuisance
but the bird is alive
flailing and chirping pitifully

what a pretty bird
and such a shame
people these days just don’t care
someone hit it on purpose i think

the bird flails weakly and pitifully
as if to say why have i been treated this way?
why is the world so cruel
i would live for a moment of sympathy

the man turns on the emergency blinkers
crumbles up some crackers he has
pours a little water into a bottle cap
the bird eats and actually sings a little

encouraged the man thinks
i can save this bird
life has been bad for the poor creature
but perhaps i can make things better

already late for work the man
calls in sick
and then studies how to care
for the wounded bird in the road

well it can’t stay here
it will only get run over again
by the cruel, indifferent,
mean-spirited world

the bird seems appreciative and
sings and chirps warmly
the eyes are brighter and the
flailing less desperate

ok i’ve fed you a little
and you seem to feel better
now is a good time
to get out of the road

there is, luckily, a cardboard box
in the car, perfect for the bird
he takes his scarf and stuffs
the box to make it comfortable

he cautiously approaches and
the bird seems calm,
still seemingly bright eyed
and appreciative

he must kneel down close
being careful to do no additional harm
gathering the wings just enough
to ease the bird from the pavement

his face is close by necessity
and the bird suddenly pecks furiously
poking the man’s nose hard
finding his left eye

there is blood, his blood
he drops the bird roughly
and it flails as before
he staggers awkwardly backward

he wipes the blood from his face
his eye isn’t injured badly but
the blood blinds it
so that he doesn’t know

he knocks over the water bottle
and crushes the crackers
he staggers to the car
and spins the tires getting away

all the while cursing the
wounded bird to perdition and
denouncing himself for his naive
kindness and for being deceived

the wounded bird is in the road
it is very much alive
but obviously injured
there is blood

a car stops and a man gets out
his intent to remove a nuisance
but the bird is alive
flailing and chirping pitifully

what a pretty bird
and such a shame
people these days just don’t care
someone hit it on purpose i think

i can save this bird
life has been bad for the poor creature
but perhaps i can make things better

the bird seems appreciative and
sings and chirps warmly

My Grandfather Poem by Andy Derryberry

my grandfather
i smelled my grandfather
this morning in the
sweat soaked gloves
i use on the dumbbells

i remember him as sad
because the love of his live
died young, in childbirth

i wish he could have
found some happiness
to share with me

but i guess some wounds
just won’t heal…
still i was just a kid

but today is a gift to me
and as long as i draw breath
i’m going to live live live

My Grandfather poem copyright Andy Derryberry