The Place I Intend To Be

guest blogger

by Suzy Wordmuser:

Chasing rainbows

such a pointless task

pretty as they are

there’s nothing to hold

just a fleeting moment

a desire for something

that never was

could never be

would not satisfy

my human mind

my body of flesh

I never run

to find  the worthless

I pursue

with slow intent

those things

that have value

that make sense to me

and have become my world

My imaginings

are never empty

or fleeting

they are unbroken plans

a vision

made from years

of hard work


from nothing

ending with


That place I intend to reach

I surely will

Red Light

Here I am

waiting, hating

the red light.

Wishing I

coulda, shoulda

taken a right.

Traffic is

going not slowing

in front of me.

I am here

slow, a no-go

and I want to be.

So red light

will you help me out?

I need to

make a left turn right now.

I am so

tired of being stuck here –

I need you

to give me the all clear.

This one change

will all begin with you

If you will

just turn and let me through.

Please let me

be on my way

and leave all

this to yesterday.

Here I am

waiting, hating

the red light.

Wishing I

coulda, shoulda

taken a right.

© 2013 ck’s days

The Legend of Henry Luck

Some people’s life

can be summed up in one little story.

 But for others,

it takes a legend to tell their glory.

 Back in the day,

when the old west was still young –

 the law couldn’t

contain anything under the sun.

 There lived a man,

Henry Luck was his name

 and Wanted Posters

broadcast his fame.

 Most people

avoided him and hid from his shadow

 It was common

knowledge that if he had a foe,

 that enemy

would wind up full of lead.

 and if lucky,

he would only end up dead.

 So many brave

men found no shame to run

 instead of

being caught on the wrong side of Mr. Luck’s gun.

 But even outlaws

can’t outrun time and grow old.

 At least, the

lucky ones do, the others end up lifeless and cold.


One summer day

Henry sat in a bar in Wyoming

 He contemplated

his sins and started to have misgivings

 He knew he would

have to account for all the bad he’d done

 For living his

life with a bullet and gun.

 And he tried

to drink his guilt away.

 When he heard that, oh so familiar call asking him to drop all

 and have a

showdown in the street that day.

 Henry downed

the last drop of whiskey

 and yelled out,

“Kid, let me be!”

 And the kid,

mocked ol’ Henry and called him a chicken

 for not coming

out and taking his lickin’

 Henry walked

to the swinging door of the bar

 and said,

“Kid, I’ve been where you are

 looking down

the road you’re going down.

 So trust me

when I say, turn around.

 Turn around

 and run or just walk away.

 It’s not too

 late to save your soul today.

 If you kill me

my friends will hunt you.

 If you kill me

my kin will come after you.

 If you kill me

my enemies will pursue you

 and you will be

their prize and trophy

 as the

murderer of their enemy.

 It’s not a life,

so turn around and walk away

 Find a pretty

wife and settle down and stay.”

 Henry stopped

talking and hoped the kid did hear

 Instead the

kid laughed and asked, “What, are you full of fear?”

 Henry opened

the door and walked to the street

 “All right then,” the kid said, “on the count of ten.”

 The kid stood

straight and shuffled his feet.

 And when he

reached ten he pulled out his revolver

 and pulled the

trigger a bit harder

 and Henry Luck

fell onto his back as if falling into bed.

 The kid wiped his

brow and yelled, “I killed Henry Luck dead!”


A month later

the kid was shot by David Crow

 while he slummed

the streets of San Francisco.


Back in Wyoming,

as they prepared to bury

 Henry Luck

in the local cemetery

 his casket

broke open and out spilled dirt.

 They say about

two hundred pounds worth

 and one steel plate

with some twine tied to the ends

 and in the

middle a small bullet lodged within.


But there was

no body in the coffin that day.

 And this is what

the townspeople did say –

 Both men

received just what they wanted in that shoot out

 The kid did

receive the fame he sought for, no doubt.

 And Henry Luck?

Well, they figure he got to rest in peace

 living up to

his name to a grand old age without worry and in ease.

© 2013 ck’s days

The Best Known Cure…

I really do think
I need your upmost pity.
Fair dinkum and true –
because I’m one sick puppy.
Not like that, sicko!
I’m truly sick as can be.
I don’t wanna move.
I feel bad, oh woest me!
It hurts all over –
I feel downright crummy.
Yes, I’m serious.
No, this ain’t hyperbole.
Wait, what did you say?
there’s a doctor for me to see?
Hmm, what do you know!
I’m feeling good suddenly!


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