DonnaChisum©2020TonyFallon0629

DonnaChisum©2020TonyFallon0629

Donna Michelle Stambuck grew up with Pacific breakers
And once she owned a Welsh pony farm with many acres 
Donna grew up in Oakland, her life was somewhat free style
Many west coast hearts were broken with that alluring smile
Many of her friends took up guitar or ukulele
She had wild dreams of running off with Barnum and Bailey

She's an animal lover and for that she can be proud
She was heartbroken when she lost her darling horse Dark Cloud
He must have been very special she talks about him still
And though she has no replacement some day I bet she will
In days of yore she visited the town of Yackama
Then settled down in Pleasant Grove to become a Mamma
When she fell in love with Bud she gave up the seaside life
And for a quarter century has been a loving wife
Anton is their older boy young Tristan likes chicken fried 
The four of them love animals and live their lives in stride

The whole family seems to love the wildest adventures
they once lived with some green bird in a school bus for winters
during their travels they lived and worked in the lone star state
then went up north to Alaska to see the Behring Strait

In their back garden they have hens that came at great expense
and because these hens can fly high they have an eight foot fence

TheBurstBaloon©TonyFallon0628

TheBurstBaloon©TonyFallon0628

I have often felt badly before but this is the utmost worst
before the air got out of the balloon but now I know 'tis burst
never was it tied tightly with string and easily deflated
now there are so many pieces it can never be inflated.
Every hour and day that passes bye the likelihood increases
that no matter how hard I try I won't get back all the pieces

Donna’sChicken©2020TonyFallon0624

Donna’sChicken©2020TonyFallon0624

Chickens don't like summer heat unless there is a breeze
When they get hot at Donnas' they go into the trees
I hope they don't do that in winter or they will freeze

Most hens would be happy to have any tree for shade
climbing up the ladder they don't seem a bit afraid
I hope they don't let down Donna and that eggs are laid

Donna better watch they don't build nests to lay their eggs
Climbing trees to collect them would be hard on her legs

Donna can brag that she has one of the safest flocks
Never losing a chicken to a weasel or fox
That Donna's hen house would be empty should surprise thieves
There must be you know what on the ground beneath the leaves
Placing that ladder there is like the skill of Moses
Bud and Donnas’ chickens are ahead of the Joneses

When the rooster is seducing he doesn't have to search
there may be a Rhode Island lassie on the next perch

He is crowing loudly as king of this odd domain
and for the hens in the tree he is the only swain
there is not much food in a tree even if they scratch
I think there would be a problem if they tried to hatch

I hope they don't get high ideas and fly the coop
they might be discontented and fly off in a group
then next Sunday’s dinner would be missing chicken soup

AllMixedUp©2020TonyFallon0621

AllMixedUp©2020TonyFallon0621

You can go from top to bottom in about one season
From being robust and healthy to coughing and sneezing
From feeling very sexy, appealing and seductive
To a life where you feel you are no longer productive
I cannot get my thought together they are so scattered
My heart must need a good few band aids it feels so battered
Last week my son got a sedative when he broke his thumb
I wish I had a good one for my brain to make it numb
I can't get rid of the emptiness in my stomach pit
Yet I must carry on the facade and show some true grit
Where so many things have gone wrong its is hard to list them
It is just a near whole breakdown of the entire system
If I was younger I'd run away and join the army
Seven months away from here in training would not harm me
In the late evening I was trimming my large oak and ash
Today my two hands have poison ivy blisters and rash
I must work in the garden because wise gardeners know
If you don't often water the roses they will not grow

*To those of you who read my poetry I am “AllMixedUp”

Two years ago I was writing a poem a day now I’m

Having problems writing one a week because I really am

“AllMixedUp” Better times are ahead.

MetheChild©2020 TonyFallon0521

MetheChild©2020 TonyFallon0521

My mother said when I was a young boy I was a naughty child
I did whatever I wanted to do I was a wee bit wild
I paid no attentions to her or my father's or teachers rules
I had as much stubbornness in me as there was in two old mules
My Grandma said to my mother one day you know I am no prude
But you can not have a five year old running around in the nude
I was always bossy and my siblings I had to dominate
And no matter what time I had to return I was always late
To my parents I lied in games with others I always cheated
I was not a good loser I'd sulk after being defeated
Mother always threatened I'd be punished by God
She punished me frequently with the sally rod
I didn't like waiting so I'd always go to the head of the line
If any others did not like it they could just stand there and whine
One time a big older child accused me of being impolite
There were no more of those complaints after I beat him in a fight
That day the teacher chastised me and said I was acting a thug
But now everybody knew if they crossed me they would get a slug
I was not the smartest in class yet you couldn't call me a ninny
But no bully would beat up any of my friends who were skinny.
Then one hot afternoon one smart mouth called one of my friends a nerd
That's the last time any of my friends will be called that dirty word
Neighbors keep their big dogs inside whether German or Alsatians
A few of them attacked me once and then needed medications
One of those Shepherd brutes once roughed up my best friend’s mothers cat
He was not much of a match for my American baseball bat
When visitors would see me acting up they'd think it was so cute
There was some. talk of reformatory school I was such a brute
After reading some school articles I lost some of my swagger
And gave up the wild idea of buying myself a dagger
I decided I better change attitude and start behaving
If caught with a dagger I wouldn't get out until I was shaving
Some people analyzed me as a Taurus yet could not explain
How I couldn't get along with people in any other domain
If I hadn't matured I could now be getting ready for debates
I think I would get more than half the votes in the United States

aMusing©TonyFallon0610

aMusing©TonyFallon0610

I didn’t finish a poem today or the day before
There’s paper in the printer and plenty on the floor
It’s not a racing heartbeat that I’m waiting to abate
It’s the ideas in my brain I am waiting to escalate

I don’t drink alcohol or use any kind of marijuana
So I can’t get high and create my own nirvana
Funny how I could write easily in the month of May
Today will soon be gone and be another yesterday

I never take over the counter or prescription drugs
and since I don't drink alcohol I don't hang out in pubs
I'm good to go with tea but not with coffee by Maxwell
I'm good at the grammar and I rarely ever misspell

Saturday's we'd be reading on an open microphone
Some reading from their notebooks others from the telephone
Often in Saugerties some would go for pizza slices
There would be more of us than pieces that was no crisis

So are the old days departed never more to return
will we be wearing masks forever with no more sunburn
Will our lives be monitored and under social control
So that when we go out we'll have to have a ten foot pole

The Dreams©2020TonyFallon0612

 The Dreams©2020TonyFallon0612

Oft in the morning I try to replay my dreams

Of the carefree happy days in Ireland in my teens

When having a bicycle meant you weren’t destitute

And at mass every Sunday you had a new clean suit

Having the bicycle you could get a job in town
And after the weekend wassail still have left a pound
It also took you from under the thumbs of mothers
And helped you forget the bad school days at the brothers

I remember many hurling games played in Athleague
and getting to the top of Scrine hill in great fatigue
Dinner was waiting at home with lovely spuds unpeeled
Yet I'd stop for a football game in Jim Miley's field

Later I'd cycle home at nearly a headlong speed
Being hungry as a cowboy after a stampede
After eating I'd be urged to go and milk the cow
And bring in some potatoes to be boiled for the sow

If you live in the country there is little repose
To the mythical grindstone you have to keep your nose

My father then claimed it can not be all fun and games
Football and hurling and Saturday night chasing dames

With my little salary I was very cautious
every week I put ten shillings in the post office
In the back of my mind I had an ultimate plan
to sell the old bicycle and buy a cheap sedan

One day I met an uncle home from Staten Island
who owned an Irish pub on a big street named Hyland
I was an only son meant to inherit the farm
Yet a trip to New York would do a young man no harm

So now my focus was to save up for a ticket
I couldn't tell my father I knew he would turn wicked

The GAA had a raffle I bought a shilling ticket
A hundred pound was in my hand didn't the girl pick it

I said I'm going to leave be it by hook or crook
Next day I went to the post and emptied out the book

Days later I was in Dublin off the Westport train 
Weeks later I was in Shannon on a New York plane

When father found out what happened he was up in arms
but I was making money I had no time for farms

The farm went to my sister I never felt cheated
When our family visits we are warmly greeted

I don't get back often I do miss the scenery
is there an exile who does not miss the greenery?
I don't think I'd have done as well even with the car
I'm happy and at peace because now I own the bar