My Poetry

The last Cameo I ordered only played once. I contacted Cameo about it, but I guess they could not fix it, so they offered me a redo. Now, I know that being an actor, you are used to repeating lines, but I really liked what you said, and don't want you to try and recreate it, so I am sending a different poem.  Someone gave me hoodoo as a writing prompt, and this is what I came up with.  It is written phonetically, or at least I tried.  I confess that I am not an expert on dialects of the deep South.  I heard you say in an interview that you can do a deep Southern accent? I wanted to give you something you could use that accent with, if it's not too much to ask? And, yes, "muddy waters" is a hat tip to Muddy Waters.  Lonesome Delta When she call de snakes dey come from all directions. She dry dey skins on da roof a da shed crush dem to a powda to hoodoo people. She keep her mojo nexta her skin. In it she got a pair a wishin’ beans, a rabbit foot, an’ de namesa her sons

 Broken Ornaments  The morning of Christmas Eve, Tucker and I go to Kmart to pick up my pay. I decide to do some holiday shopping before I leave the store. The electric bill can wait until next week, damn it. I am giving Tucker a Christmas! I just hope the propane holds out that long. When we get home, the driveway is so icy that I have to park at the bottom and trudge up the hill on foot, dragging an artificial Christmas tree box. Tucker carries the bag with the lights and ornaments, but the way he is banging it around, I’m afraid they will all be broken before we reach the trailer. Tucker gets so excited when I start putting the tree together. He claps and jumps around, “Yay, Kissmas free! Yay Santa!” I turn on some seasonal music, to put myself into a better mood, and I can’t believe it when I open the box of ornaments to find they are all still intact. "It’s a Christmas miracle," I chuckle to myself. $4.99 for eighteen, assorted color, glass ornaments. Quite the bargain.

Seventeen Born so beautifully flawed like crackleware labeled before your first breath; you hit the wall on that birth day. Eyes like marbles baked and chilled saw the world with wonder but mother greeted you like a cat with her back arched. Encircled with rules like antique bottles not to be broken   you cringe at the sound of their clinking,   and any movement or growth topples them. Try to crawl over broken and splintered glass reaching out not even knowing what you’re reaching for your chin dips as suspicious eyes follow you. Hungry for kindness, you follow anybody who scratches behind your ears only to be kicked aside   as the door slams. Tomorrow is uncertain as a Vegas card game. Do you hold at 17 or cross your fingers and take another card? ___________________________________________ This is about a friend of my son's. He was born addicted to crack, and never had a place where he belonged. I desperately wanted to help him, but it was right after my divorce and I didn't