Poems By Ralph – “Lucky Stars,” “What A Pickle,” and “Puntin’ Or Gruntin'”

“Lucky Stars”

Alls I asked for on my fourteenth birthday
Was for a horse to go riding with him or her
Pap told me I was dreaming son
So I didn’t know if I would get one for sure

Well, turns out I got a ballcap instead
But Gram was nice enough to make me a deal
She said just down the street was this old guy named Fred
He told Gram I could pet his horse anytime I feel

I shook hands on that one with Gram
I says, “You’re on” and then I marched down to Fred’s
The old geezer had this sleek, brown horse
I guess he named the horse plain old Ed

Now, I didn’t tell Fred nothing
But I thought that name was kinda raw
I renamed Ed “Lucky Stars”
He was the prettiest horse that I ever did saw

Lucky Stars was a true character
He was always makin funny faces
I knew we was goin to be best friends
I told the horse we was gonna go some places

Fred told me Lucky Stars wasn’t meant for riding
He said he would turn nasty mean
One day when Fred wasn’t lookin
I jumped on that sucker like you wouldn’t believe

Turns out Fred was right after all
Lucky Stars got these mean old buck teeth
He turned into a total grouch ever since that ride
Then the poor Lucky Stars had to be put to sleep

(in remembrance of Lucky Stars)

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

“What A Pickle”

Before you was a pickle
You was a cucumber on my Gram and Pap’s farm
I seen them care for you
I seen them keep the critters from causing you harm

Now you are a pickle
Gram keeps you sealed tight inside a mason jar
I bet you are daydreaming
Of when you was a cucumber buried underneath the stars

I asked Gram how’s come she done this to you
She told me she was busy, so go ask your Pap
So when I seen him in the living room
Of all the things
He had that mason jar resting on his lap

Pap reached his grubby paws inside the jar
He offered me the biggest pickle that I ever seen
Now what a pickle
Should I eat you or just leave you be?

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

“Puntin’ or Gruntin'”

“Yinz puntin’ or gruntin’?”
Uncle Rodger point blank asks me and Pap
“What do yinz think?” I asked him
“We was goin to just lay down and take a nap?”

I drawed up a play in the huddle
But I seen Uncle Rodger was tryin to hear
“Hey, cut it out yinz cheaters!”
I yelled to Uncle Rodger and his friend he calls Bear

“Bring it on you fudge packers.”
Uncle Rodger says right back to me
I shouted, “Yinz are dead meat!”
We was surely about to claim our victory

Me and Pap was ready for the play
I called out, “53 blue right, set, set, hut, hike!”
Then I chucked the ball through the air
But before Pap had a chance to catch it
Uncle Rodger set him flat on his derriere

Boy, was I fuming mad
I called Uncle Rodger every name in the book
He says to, “Calm down you Nancy.
Yinz were the ones who grunted and now look.”

We got into a major scuffle
I gave Bear a good one smack to the face
Uncle Rodger was livid
He was throwin haymakers all over the place

When the tussle was over
Pap said givin us a redo was the only fair thing in this case
Uncle Rodger agreed on that one
“Yinz puntin’ or gruntin’?” he asks us
Then I punched Uncle Rodger square in the face

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Meet Ralph

Well, you dimwits.  The time has come.  It’s time you meet a long lost friend of mine, a friend that began it all for me.  A friend that first got me into writing over eight years ago.  It’s time that you meet Ralph.

Ralph is an alter ego character that I created during the MySpace days.  I began Photoshopping my head onto various bodies and gave myself snaggly teeth, crossed eyes, big ears, and crazy costumes.  I posted the Photoshop images to MySpace, and a star was born.  Ralph became a cult sensation.  I had people all across the world following along with Ralph’s misadventures, until one day, I took the site down completely.  Ralph disappeared over night.  It was a sad farewell.

I tried to resurrect Ralph several times over the years unsuccessfully, including on this blog back when very few people were reading.  I figured I’d give it another shot and see where it goes.  Maybe it will end up at the bottom of the lake.

In a nutshell, Ralph is a fiesty, fiery, 15 year old trapped in a 28 year old’s body.   He loves beef jerky, dungeons and dragons, WWF wrestling, ZZ Top, and game shows, including his favorite game show of all time “Love Connection” hosted by Chuck Woolery.  Ralph lives in the basement of his Gram and Pap’s country home in western Pennsylvania.  He fights mightily with his combative Pap, Uncle Rodger, and cousins.  For a further introduction and more photos, click the link here.

I have a bunch of old Ralph material that I might dust off and polish.  We’ll see.  But for now, I’ll leave you with a few poems that Ralph wrote since I was talking about poetry in the previous post.  Hope you enjoy.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

“Uncle Rodger’s Hunting Cabin”

The one thing about
Uncle Rodger’s hunting cabin
Is that it’s always cozy
He keeps the temperature
Always nice, never too toasty

After a long day of hunting
Might be deer
Might be some caribou
He always treats us kindly
He up and says, “Here, yinz want some brews?”

We kick back a couple cold ones
Have some delicious beef jerky treats
On the fold out couch bed
That’s where Uncle Rodger lets me sleep

Now this one time
I screamed, “Hey Rodger, I seen a rat!”
Uncle Rodger says, “Now Ralph.
We can’t have none of that.”

Sure enough
He whips out a humongous 12 gauge
I couldn’t believe my eyes
As Uncle Rodger lit up the whole damn place

I says, “Holy crap Uncle Rodger!
You’re making holes in the walls!”
He just up and laughs
And then he says, “Ralph, ain’t we havin a ball.”

    *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

“Home Sweet Motorhome”

I bet yinz will be jealous
To hear I went cross country in Uncle Rodger’s motorhome
I don’t blame yinz one bit
Missin out on them spacious skies and mountain domes

Gram was majorly upset
She couldn’t come along cause of a mild stroke
I had to rub it in on that one
I says to her “Na na na na na” just to get her yoke

Uncle Rodger gave the camper a tune up before we left
We was ready to rock ‘n roll
I called out, “Shotgun!”
But Rodger says,  “Sit in the back with your cousin Joel.”

Joel’s feet smelled like onions
So I asked to switch with Pap at every single stop
Pap says, “Nice try Ralph.”
So I was stuck in the back with my cousin’s smelly socks

Other than that
The trip was goin’ just as smooth as could be
That was until Uncle Rodger swerved
Tryin to avoid a pack of them wild coyotes

We ran clear off the road
We was headed straight for a big ole’ ditch
I screamed for Uncle Rodger to gun it
He says, “Shut up in the back you son of a monkey’s tit!”

The camper was bent all to hell
Joel was cryin’ and Uncle Rodger was mad as a toad
I said, “See Uncle Rodger.
Shoulda’ let me ride shotgun to navigate the road.”

  *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Shakespeare’s Sonnet #73 – Hinton’s Sonnet #69

Sonnet #73
William Shakespeare, 1609

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish’d by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

——————————————–

Sonnet #69
Christopher Hinton, 2012

Holy schnikes,
Tis’ Autumn season yet once again
Where in the h-e-double hockey sticks doth the time go?
Answer me, thou canst not my dear, wise friend.
Why, just last week it was summer, warm
And the week before twas a lively spring,
Dagnabbit, I found a gray hair in my beard
Tweezers and dyes hath I, but it mean’ith not a thing.
The color of leaves turn to orange, to yellow
To red, from whence they were once vibrant green
The photosynthesis of life is a real mothertrucker
If you know what I mean, jelly bean.
So live thou life from the greens, to the grays
Liveth all the colors in between
Until winter washes white, peaceful and gentle
Until final seasons thou will sing.