I’m a bad ass cat
poised for adventure and fun.
watch me as I pounce!
Ill let you pet me
my bad self craves attention
man, just keep it real.
Don’t turn your back, Jack,
I’ll get you every time
I’m a bad ass cat.
Author: nananoyz
I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats.
Harper D’s Day
Our youngest grandchild, Harper, celebrates her third birthday today. That seems impossible. Only yesterday she was a tiny, helpless infant. Nowadays, she’s a feisty little handful who talks to me on FaceTime for as long as she can make herself sit still. Then it’s “I’m all done with Nana!” and off she goes to sing “Uptown Funk” or “Let it Go.”
I wrote this poem for Harper when she was upset about not getting to attend school with her older siblings.
D Wants to Ride
The big yellow bus came to D’s house today.
Garrett got on the big yellow bus.
McKayla got on the big yellow bus.
D could not get on the big yellow bus.
“You must be three, and you are only two,” said Garrett.
“You are way too little,” said McKayla.
“I am big,” said D.
“I can count,
I can sing,
I can climb,
I can swing.”
“Just one more year,” said Garrett.
“You will be a big girl next year,” said McKayla.
“But I AM a big girl!” Insisted D.
“I can play,
I can dance,
I can run
Really fast!”
“D,” said Garrett, “Be our baby for awhile.”
“D,” said McKayla, “Stay little for awhile.”
D thought and thought. “OK,” she said.
“I will be your baby for one more year.
I will still count and sing, climb and swing.
I will still play and dance and run very fast.
But next year I will get on the big yellow bus!”
“Bye, D,” said Garrett.
“Bye, D,” said McKayla.
“Bye big yellow bus!” said D. “I’ll see you next year.”
Songs About Amarillo
There seem to be a great many songs about Amarillo, Texas. In fact, if one googles songs about Amarillo the question, “why are there so many songs about Amarillo?” pops up.
If I were to take a guess, I’d say it’s probably because the word, “Amarillo” has a musical quality. Spanish for “yellow,” it rolls off the tongue and works well in country songs. And when George Strait sings “Amarillo by Morning” it’s absolutely beautiful.
Other Amarillo-titled songs:
“Amarillo Sky”
“Amarillo Highway”
“Amarillo”
“I Did My Time in Amarillo”
“Is This the Way to Amarillo”
Like a Garden
a blog is a garden.
while well-tended, blossoms appear:
fragrant jasmine, thorned roses,
upright jacks-in-the-pulpit.
when neglected, weeds sprout:
persistent dandelions, stubborn
pigweed, and annoying quackgrass.
mine requires a little TLC,
sunshine, moisture, and copious
amounts of fertilizer. manure.
fortunately i seem to possess
more than enough of the latter
commodity. i’m full of it.
Free Speech
Speaking candidly
aggravates the insecure
liberates others.
Don’t speak down to me
I’m no one’s little woman
I respect respect.
Propaganda earns
only scorn and disbelief
hard truths are preferred.
Painting Angels
Wish I’d written this! Read more of her work at movingtowardsthelight.com
If I could paint angels
I would paint angels surrounding me
I would paint all the souls I miss every day
Into life and have them here to stay
I would paint them from my heart
So they could be outside me
And I would never throw
The paintings away
True North
I’ve stopped pretending
reality struck my eyes
there’s no canvas here
blame hesitation
procrastination and lies
forgive my lapses
without my compass
true north escapes detection
I’m left foundering
Rose directs, pointing
Sharp angles of distinction
Circle trapped petals.
Peace, people!
Countdown to Texas
Four days to Texas
Amarillo bound
Can’t wait to see my baby
When I hit that dusty ground.
Goin’ home, after years gone by
Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
Tears of joy and happiness
When my baby’s by my side.
Goin’ home.
Three days to Texas
I can feel it drawing near
Like a hot blast of air
And a cold Budweiser beer.
Goin’ home, after years gone by
Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
Tears of joy and happiness
When my baby’s by my side.
Goin’ home.
Two more days to Texas
Amarillo here I come
Where the air smells of cattle
And cowboys get work done.
Goin’ home, after years gone by
Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
Tears of joy and happiness
When my baby’s by my side.
Goin’ home.
One last day to Texas
Back to my country roots
I’ll put aside my flip flops
And don my old black boots.
Goin’ home, after years gone by
Goin’ home, tryin’ not to cry
Tears of joy and happiness
When my baby’s by my side.
Goin’ home.
And now the wheels are touching
a runway on the plains
broad prairie sweeps around me
It’s different, but the same.
I’m home, after years gone by
I’m home, tears start to fall
In my baby’s arms I’ve finally found
My home.
All My Bags are Packed
Truly my bags are packed. I’m off to Texas tomorrow for a Doright family reunion.
Positives (in no particular order):
- Seeing my children and grandchildren. Hugging will happen.
- Hanging out with Saint Helen. 🙂
- Visiting with the Doright clan, especially Studly’s sisters and his brother.
- Saint Helen’s cooking. Yummmmmm!
- The Doright Family Auction–always a hoot.
- Getting to see my Aunt Nedra and Uncle Richard.
- Touching base with old friends.
- Eating Tex-Mex food.
Negatives:
- Getting up at 4 a.m. To make my flight. Ugh!
- That’s it. No more negatives. Going to bed now.
Peter, Paul, and Mary: Leaving on a Jet Plane. This song always makes me cry.
http://youtu.be/c8jEapecSqc
Peace, people!
Poetry Slam
Wham! Bam! Thank you, Ma’am
Get on the floor for the poetry slam
Don’t be shy and don’t ask why
Just find your rhyme and jam.
Everyone’s got a bit of poesy
Running through their veins.
Sing it or swing it or talk it out
Make a noise, a joyful, raucous
Boisterous poetic contribution
Shout it from the tallest tower
Forget your grown up hang ups
Hang a left at the corner of meter
Where Iambic pentameter plays
And dissonance, resonance, even
Romantic persuasion hold sway.
Pour out your heart and find your soul
Rock and roll and take no prisoners.
Peace, people.
I’d love to be part of a poetry slam. Even if it scares me to death!
Praying for Eyebrowz 