Delighfully Delicious Fast Pickle Poetry

Pickles

Pickles here, pickles there,
pickles, pickles everywhere,
pickles hot and pickles sweet,
pickles are the best of treats.
I eat pickles everyday.
Pickles help me rhyme this way.
Pickles, yes they’re good for you,
they’re vegetables you love to chew!

Pickles crunch and pickles munch,
pickles are a must for lunch.
Pickles sour and pickles cool,
I take pickles to my school
then come supper-time, you bet.
Pickles are the best food yet!
Pickles come without a care,
pickles here, pickles there.

Anyone want a pickle?

Rooster Spared Death Penalty By Greensboro City Council

Now with more white breast meat!

In a surprise decision the Greensboro City Council voted tonight to spare Gus, the Rooster, star of Discovery Channel Canada. the death penalty.

The Council voted 9 to 0 to grandfather Gus, Elizabeth, BB. Snowy and Nelly as part of an improved regulation that legalizes urban chickens in many Greensboro neighborhoods including my own east Greensboro neighborhood.

I'm not sure how Elizabeth, BB, Snowy and Nelly feel about being grandfathers but Gus is ecstatic and has vowed to crow about it come daylight tomorrow morning.

Update: Laurie has more info.

Update 2: August 20th 7:46 PM. All day long people have been telling me they saw me on Fox 8 and News 2. I've yet to find ethier video online. And the local government videos won't play on my 11 year old iMac or the new PC in my office.

The News & Borg covers the story.

The newest victim of the News & Borg speaks out .

Ed Cone gives it a mention.

Earlier today I extended invitations to the Mayor and City Council to attend my cookout on October 18th. You're invited too.

Chicken Poetry?

And yes, I do plan to add a single hive of honeybees to my backyard livestock but not before October 18th. In the last 24 hours I've heard from dozens of local beekeepers and backyard chicken farmers who have been in their closets for many years.

Chicken Poetry?

In honor of Last night's Greensboro City Council decision to spare the life of Gus The Rooster, I bring you the following bite of Grade A, Extra Large, Chicken poetry. Enjoy your breakfast.

Little, The Chicken

Little was a chicken
who chose to fly the coop.
“I’ll not be some man’s breakfast,
sold for pennies-- dirty loot.
I’m off to see the world,
make my own way,
save my life...”

The other chicken’s only stared.

So Little, he flew
farther than chicken’s ever go.
A new world lay before him
but little did he know
the butcher’s axe he need not fear
for Little was a crow.

Veronica Loses Her Best Friend To A Bullet Fired By A Drunken Cop

And I'm powerless to do anything about it.

A Walkin' Talkin' Carrot?

Orange Jim

Orange Jim, he was a carrot,
though the veggies called him, Slim.
He said, “I want to see the world,
get out of this dirt I’m in.
I’m tired of only hangin’ out.
It’s time I pulled up roots,
and if the gardener, he gets mad,
I don’t give a shoot!”

So Orange Jim, he pulled up roots,
the world he went to see.
He started his adventure
from a patch in Tennessee.
From there he went to Washington
to see the President,
but no one cared that he had gone
or wondered where he went.

And on his way he met a peach
who said she loved Slim so,
but Orange Jim, his thoughts weren’t clear.
His heart he didn’t know.
A darling treat, a plum so sweet,
Jim left her far behind.
Orange Jim, he couldn’t see
cherry dreams had left him blind.

From there he sailed to Paris,
said, “I’ve come to be the king.”
The French, they said, “Jac la blu,
never heard of such a thing.”
So on his way, ol’ Slim he went
in search of all things new
with no concerns of things back home.
His lust was all he knew.

So Orange went down under
to the land of ripe Kiwi,
thinking he could make it there.
“They’ll think the world of me.”
But Orange Jim, the could have been,
they didn’t need him there,
and so left lemon’s wilted stem
and thinking life unfair.

And on his way he met a peach
who said she loved Slim so,
but Orange Jim, his thoughts weren’t clear.
His heart he didn’t know.
A darling treat, a plum so sweet,
Jim left her far behind.
Orange Jim, he couldn’t see
cherry dreams had left him blind.

Orange Jim, he lived his life
so many years ago,
but now and then young Orange Jim
comes back around, you know.
He’s in your dreams, the little things
you long for every day,
but when you dream like Orange Jim,
remember what he’d say,

“I lived my life a carrot.
For the world I had disdain.
I couldn’t see beyond my stems
and learn to live the day,
for a carrot’s life need not be hard.
fact is, I had it made
growin’ fat there in the sun
and living happy days.”

15 Minutes With Holly

Holly Dunlap has an M.A. in Creative Writing is from the University of Colorado at Boulder. lives in Georgia and teaches creative writing. And this morning Holly is being featured on 15MinutePoet.com.

You told me
By Holly Dunlap

what you wanted to say to your mom
(10 years later, and
you still haven't spoken to her):
"Take your juju guilt trip
and stick that voodoo pen up your ass."

God, that made me laugh.

And that is important, laughing

because the lines on your face
lead to little known facts
about you.

You said you tell me things you don't tell
any
one
else.
I know this is true.
Continue reading the truth...

And no, Holly, I don't see the log in your eye.

15MinutePoet.com is made possible by readers of Books by Billy Jones and Salvage America.

Wait A Minute: Double Takes In The Nest

Yesterday morning I traveled to the mountains of North Carolina to visit kin folk and attend 2 family reunions. And yes I ate too much.

As usual, the mountains were beautiful and sleeping required quilts and blankets in a house without air conditioning even in August-- something that will never happen here in the Piedmont of North Carolina.

Upon my return I went directly to the back yard to check on my chickens. Gus is still unhappy about remaining in solitary confinement but BB, Elizabeth, Snowy and Elvis-- the rooster formerly thought to be a hen named Nellie-- all were happy to see me.

Especially after I gave everyone more corn.

It was then I walked to the nest and found two days of eggs from Elizabeth (blue eggs) BB (little brown eggs) Snowy (white eggs) and a giant brown egg.

A giant brown egg? Wait a minute... A giant brown egg can only mean that Elvis laid an egg. That means that Elvis is really Nellie and I've only one rooster to get rid of.

Anybody need a giant Cuckoo Moran rooster? Cockfighters need not apply.

Drill Now

From my comments to Why I Support Offshore Drilling by my friend, Joel.

"Off shore drilling is to America's energy addiction what offering free heroin is to heroin addicts-- another shot in the arm.

That said, this nation is so hopelessly addicted that no amount of rational thought can save us from our greed. Like so many addicts we only seek recovery when we can fall no lower.

Drill away, the quicker we destroy ourselves the quicker we can see how wrong the last 100 years have been."

That's right, we must drill now because only after it is gone will Americans ever agree on sustainable solutions. As for me, I'll continue to enjoy 200 miles per gallon of gas, living a modest lifestyle close to where I work and laughing at those of you who think government and "free markets" will provide real solutions.

15MinutePoet.com Displays Wreaths

Okay, not really, but when my friend, Wooleybugger suggested these two young poets  who have submitted 3 poems to Wreaths Across America in tribute to American Military men and women who died in the service of our nation I just couldn't pass.

The poems written by Anna and Stephanie of the Margaret Chase Smith School in Skowhegan, Maine, were were inspired by visits to Arlington National Cemetery. You can give them a read at WreathsAcrossAmerica,org.

15MinutePoet.com is made possible by the many stores of the Blogsboro Mall.

Sheryl Crow, Page 3 Girl

This week’s all nude Page 3 Girl is none other than Cheryl Crow. No, not that Sheryl Crow, this Cheryl Crow.

Cheryl Crow, Page 3 Girl Cheryl, along with her band of birds that include Tim, Shawn, Mike, and Peter, have been flying all over the country since leaving Missouri a few years ago. “Are they trying to become famous?” you ask.

No, they’re crows, remember: they’re looking for corn fields. Or perhaps to crash and burn.

This particular photograph was taken in the parking lot of of a Tuesday night music club on Diamond Road where Cheryl was heard to squawk, “All I wanna do is soak up the sun and hide from Kid Rock so I don’t get hit with the difficult kind of... Na-na, you missed me. A change would do you good.”

To which Steve McQueen was heard to reply, “There goes the neighborhood. I’m over you and I’m leaving Las Vegas to find a place that’s safe and sound.” I wonder what hubby, Lance Armstrong thinks?

Come back next week to view our next look at all nude, Page Three Girls... or we can talk about the hole in my pocket.