Wednesday, November 6, 2013

That devilish mean streak

I think I'm a bad man.

Maybe I just have a devilish mean streak in me.

At times I almost give in to this uncontrollable urge I have.

Let me explain.

When so called able bodied people tower over me in my wheelchair and they seem to be patronizing me just because I am at times I feel like putting on a little show.

I want to start doing my southernized hand signal talking pretending I can't hear them.

I so want to reassure them with my middle finger that they are number 1 in my book.

I want to grin and drool like I'm in another world or least another zip code from them.

I want them to have that grin on their face that says shoot fire I'm so glad I ain't this dude.

Yes I could go on but won't.

That mean devilish streak might take over.

Rough type of life

From the hills of Alabama
Granddaddy made his living
Making that mash
That was good for sipping

Against the law
What he did
Rough type of life
He got shot in the jaw

Loved his dogs
Coon hunter he be
Answered to no one
Granddaddy was free

Granddaddy he lives in me
I'm his grandson that is true
Granddaddy knew you only a while
I do miss you


I see

I see
A tree
Yellow leaves
Falling free

I see
Cloudy sky
And hawks
Flying high

I see
Friends too
Blessed I
For you

I see
God's love
All around
Love abounds