Monthly Archives: July 2012

Dandy’s Flying

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          Dandy’s Flying

Away in the sky….
Where legends retire and icons dwell….
Lies a memory of mine.
And it is Dandy the beagle.
His fur is lathered with an assortment of perfectly coordinated colors.
As if the very hairs from his head were taken from a spectrum itself….
Or copied from a tessellation.
And he always smiled like a human.
Maybe he was happy?  Or maybe that was just Dandy?
Either way, he’s gone now.
And I’ll remember him as a “best” friend.
And a hell of a dog.

Whether it was a good day or a bad….
Or a happy time or a sad….
Dandy didn’t care, he was flying without wings.
High on life he was.
And I’ll remember him as a “best” friend.
And a hell of a dog.

Sometimes he played carelessly.
Sometimes he chased the man.
But everything that he did was wide open.
Like he was flying without wings.
And I’ll remember him for these things, and as a “best” friend.
And for being a hell of a dog.

Now his wings are with him in unison.
And carelessly he fly’s above the clouds.
Out of this universe, onto new worlds, and beyond.
And I’ll always remember him as a “best” friend.
And a hell of a dog.

R.I.P. Dandy

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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Blood on the Spear! Noles on the Rise!

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           Blood on the Spear!  Noles on the Rise! 

Bobby’s house is sacred in the land of Doak Campbell.
And the blood is garnet and gold.  Foretold by Deion,
“Primetime” is thy name.  Dynasty, reborn!
I remember Daddy agreeing with my Hogwarts comparison.
While Peter scored, I was afraid.  But the crystal came, and it’s ok.

83,000, “Tally” central, where all is right.
And everybody in the “850” yelled, “Snoop!”
Blood on the spear!  My Noles are on the rise!
Bring back the title!  Though a weeping Gator will suffice!

The term “Warchant” was feared by the many.
In the name of Osceola, Mickey, Chuck, Odell, Mark, and Bobby.
Terrell Buckley means domination, 100,000, and all were silent.
And the crystal came.  Charlie was his name.
None were better.

83,000, “Tally” central, where all is right.
And everybody in the “850” yelled, “Snoop!”
Blood on the spear!  My Noles are on the rise!
Bring back the title!  Though a weeping Gator will suffice!

After “The Smoke at Doak,” Weinke said,
“That’s why I came back.”
Wire to wire, and that old man could throw.
While Travis and Warrick were only seen from behind.
And the crystal came, went away,  now it longs for a friend.

83,000, “Tally” central, where all is right.
And everybody in the “850” yelled, “Snoop!”
Blood on the spear!  My Noles are on the rise!
Bring back the title!  Though a weeping Gator will suffice!

In the name of Jameis, Eddie, and Mario.
Five-stars from Mars!  Remember their names!
“I suppose you’re the young ones now.” –Sirius Black
Without the future, the past will cease to shine.
Bring back the glory, forget T.K., continue Bobby’s story.

Seminoles!  Seminoles!  Kindle the nation!
Sweep the floors, dust the crystal, thy name is sacred!
For the living, for the dying, it sure is worth reviving!
Chants of woe, written on tearful trails, with few surviving!
No longer shall we “runaway,” while the sky is mesmerizing!
This is the day!  Not tomorrow, latter-days, or evenings.
The press awaits, followers cry, Osceola’s trophy is gleaming!

83,000, “Tally” central, where all is right.
And everybody in the “850” yelled, “Snoop!”
Blood on the spear!  My Noles are on the rise!
Bring back the title!  Though a weeping Gator will suffice!

Garnet….Gold….Crystal!

Robert Alexander Deason           Peace

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My Mother and Father’s Accuracy

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          My Mother and Father’s Accuracy

My Mama always said that dribbling is important. 
And Daddy emphasizes aggressive behavior on hardwood floors.
He’s deep in real life, while Mama cares for angels. 
For corrections our inevitable during adolescent turmoil.

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds.
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

And my baby fat disappeared.  Mama said that it would.
Most bullies live in cells.  Incarcerated bastards!  They never had a chance.
And at the end of ’04, tree’s bare, St. Joe in town.
I knelt in tears by my chester-drawer.  The Soviets slaughtered America.

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds.
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

Mama said that a game would become work without regulation.
Daddy did all that he could.  I’m aware that tension resides.
Coaches failed me, and I never learned chi.
But my mother and father still help and support me. 
The rainbows, parallel and many; Disappeared, but I’m breathing.   

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds.
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

My Mama wants to go back to school.  She deserves that opportunity. 
And I write these lines because appreciation is a branch on the family tree.
Forgetless memories.  Let down by the blue man.
The kunt-bitch from my mind’s sea. 
But Mama and Daddy are here.  They’re right, right, right. 

My Papa loses pictures, and my Mema’s ulcer bleeds. 
Carbonated water is for the birds, and Mama and Daddy are right.
Regretting life is not an option, it is, but everything’s ok. 

I felt the wind depart from world’s end at day’s beginning. 
Mama and Daddy, thank you. 

Robert Alexander Deason          Peace

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