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Victor W. Pearn USA THE ALAMO I. I have seen the red angel Wings made of wire Carving slender As a New York model Angel of blood and fire Gathering in San Antonio At the library conference In the morning I go tour the sunny Alamo Angel of blood and fire The forever blue sky Seated on a bench Under the great oak canopy But the leaves look ash to the naked eye Angel of blood and fire Old ancient root Moved here by the Colonel I watch the stream of humanity Passing by me and the ancient root Angel of blood and fire It is our history the sacrifice Made so we can visit Impossible odds and these men Stood and fought for the highest price Angel of blood and fire II. And now this oak that grew here When the walls crushed with canon balls And continues to thrive In the perpetual summer that is Texas You know my mother Was born in the panhandle So I can follow my roots That began here in 1913 Long time after the Alamo I’m Illinois born My sixth grade teacher Took me with his family To the drive-in John Wayne Alamo movie With his son Patrick my best friend And we first learned The Alamo history Hollywood style Eating popcorn But where was I Under the great oak I don’t think I would have Fought Santa Anna Had it been me there with Davy Crockett, Jim Bowie and Colonel Travis But how can I know that for certain III. Their lives bought us time so we Could easily defeat Santa Anna And it is peaceful here now The metropolis streets and architecture Crowding the Alamo like a dream park Peaceful under this oak And I want to say something About the 3,616 who have Given their lives in Iraq Anything that will help their families Who mourn the loss Anything that will ease their pain WHAT SHAKESPEARE WOULDN’T TELL YOU She cannot say She loves me So she buys me hats And you know this is true For I am a weaver Of wisdom and words So I ate a thin turkey sandwich Today for lunch With lettuce tomato pickle and mustard On rye I ate it slowly Savored every bite Spooned cinnamon applesauce And tapioca pudding I know you don’t care But Shakespeare wouldn’t tell you What he had for lunch WAITING FOR A PART Had a ball joint replaced In a white Chevy Nova At a station in Arizona But I don’t remember what it cost or Being afraid or having a troubled heart I remember cactus then mountains In pine forests our first snow Oh I was so young then With my young bride And my young daughter She would be the oldest now Four girls all grown All with their degrees Endless struggle To be a good dad At this juncture an empty role And so what of my small lament Fitzgerald wrote his jazz age Then at the same point in time Steinbeck wrote his dustbowl Who can tell me what age we are in Splintered schizoid past undergirding Dripping thick with yellow Paint like sunshine pouring Smearing my golden age on canvas While the screen actors And their understudies play blue notes Movie stars good and bad arrive Unshaven hunks at the awards ceremony Starlets beckoning in priceless Jewels designer gowns stylized hair The young the old the extras The life time achievers all anxiously waiting Waiting for their next part PASSING THROUGH SPRINGFIELD I. Summer of 1976 Standing with Tim Osborn On his front porch Three houses down President Gerald R. Ford Waved to us From his campaign Train’s caboose He was seeking election II. But why am I telling you this Gerald Ford who you know died recently An unexpected and good president He had a bad press wrap Turned out he was a good football player For Michigan U. His move into the Oval Office So much a surprise When Nixon resigned out of the blue Ford made his bold Watergate and Vietnam pardons You cannot say Ford was a dark horse Doesn’t quite ring true since he didn’t run His ascension to the high office Came after being promoted to vice president And Ford was the only leader we appointed Thanks “My name is Ford not Lincoln” For giving my country back to me III. Ford or Carter They were good choices Barack Obama may help us now Copyright,
Victor W. Pearn. |