Sounds like a lie (but it's really the truth): Recent Episodes
cp turner
Wrong race, wrong age, wrong place, wrong time. But a love that felt so right. A story that encapsulates the issues of today: a young woman fighting for a love in a small Southern town that forbids it: a story about race relations, hate crimes, and teen pregnancy, and the redeeming power of love. Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/cp-turner/support
The heart of the storm Ofeeleea was a bit farther down then where we was but as a caution many things (schools, daycare centers, banks, and etc.) closed. The extra rain and wind knocked the butterflies off whatever course they were supposed to be on. I was standing out in the rain -- which my granma BettyLou says I don't have enuf cents to come out of -- and giving them littel butterflies sugar water whenever they blow down to my feet.
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It was coming home that night from the poet tree jam that I felt that my cup was runningith over, like it says in the GOOD BOOK. It was runningith over so much, it was runningith over and spilling onto the table and from there runningith onto the floor and sweeping out the door onto the front porch and runningith out onto the whole world.
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Be4 the poetree reading Me and Richard was going to a Botanical garden with 85 aches. I was really excited to have the chance of taking Pictures. Perhaps I will find a poem there. Also there is a Greek Festival going on for the 20th anniversary of a Greek church-that was burned down and then raised from the Dead. Just like Laz are us. Some part of the original building is still there. There will be a Greek block party with food, and costumes and Greek dancing.
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Richard the Third is the son of our paster Dick Butts -- his daddy calls him Dickie but Richard doesn't think that's dignified nuff for a future spiritual leader. His grandaddy was Dick Butts too, so, Richard the Third it is! Tho i mostly jus call him The Third.
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The first place went to this guy who adopted a girl who had been burned when a crack lab blew up (not his), and second was a Dad who made lunches for homeless kids, and dressed up as Santa. Third place was a Dad who had adopted his dead sister's kids even though he had five of His own.
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For this poetry contest first a person had to go through the local contest, then if you win locally you are supposed to be given a menter. It is the cool thing to pretend you don't need help, but I'm too Trailer trash practical for that silliness. I've never stayed in one spot long enough for any outside career count sling, and small religious schools tend to tell guys to be missionaries & girls to merry well.
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i have a faithful decision to make ... and at the same time i'm writing my poem!
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"Ships are safe within the harbor, but is that what ships are for?" (Unknown -- at least by me)
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But it was this poam that I wrote into a contest entry given by a poet tree group that they liked so much they vited me to come down an read some of my poetree to em. So I guess the moral is Talk to every stranger you meet. (Except the ones with long teeth and big ears and dressed in your Granma's smock, Little Red.)
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... just like Jessica Rabbit says in the movie "You don't know how hard it is being a woman like I am. I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way."
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me and my best friend go hand in hand
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The proverbs says that even a fool seems wise if he keeps his trap shut, so mostly I try but then sometimes i see something thats so wrong ... so just not fair ... or looks like for all the world so stupid in itself that i cant hep myselv, i just snap. and i know it dont do no good. i just end up hurting myself and gettin my own feelings hurt and upsetin folks round me and it messes up my day so's i can't concentrate on nothing else, and upsets them so's they can't stand to hav anything to do with me, but ... that's just the way i am i guess, just a fool. but may be someday i'll learn.
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I'm not too proud of what I done here, but I meant the best.
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My two Granmas lived in a little shack set on the edge of this field where some people growed soybeans, which is sort of like blackeye peas except nobody eats 'em directly – they just grind 'em into flour like and put that into food to give it more protein or to make fake milk or veggie burgers that fool people who can’t eat meat for one reason or another -- or dont wanna -- into thinking that they really are eating meat.
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My daddy told me that if I continued in my ways, I'd end up going where the bad people go -- what with my carrying on like I did with "them" people, and all the trouble they was getting me into. This is the story of how I ended up getting there.
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