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'' TURMOIL"
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''A TIME TO WRECKON"
''THE MOOSE-HEAD POKER CLAN''
''TWO SIDES TO EVERYTHING''
* * * * *
A TIME TO " WRECKON "
Old "Wild Bill" was a poor old dunce
who joined a rail road poker bunch,
the likes of which God only knows;
he wonders now with time gone by,
why he went where wildness shows.
Where a group of men with a hostile grin
showed no fear but to win!
They played anywhere, in the washroom there,
or in somebody's den;
but where they came to play this game---
'twas like there was no sin!
For their hearts were cold and their bets were bold-
with manners so appalled;
through smoking haze with eyes ablaze,
they'd bluff 'til some guys called......
and the place was loud like a thunder cloud--
and no one showed no shame;
but no one knew, or had a clue
of a lesson they would gain;
that even kings with all their strings,
are put down in their reign.
Now old "Wild Bill" played tight until
his pot had dwindled thin,
so he thought it wise to tell the guys :
"It's time to go all in"
So in short while he lost his pile
and made way to the door;
and while he's there he heard the blare.....
a siren's fearful roar!
And with this noise, he warned the boys:
"y'all better head for home,
forget that dough, you got'ta go.......
the cops are coming on!"
And man for man, one file they ran
to the backdoor that was closed,
but the cops burst in and the rushing men...
fell back like dominoes!
In all my life in glee or strife,
I've never seen the like;
of the laugh that brought and a lesson taught...
is respect when justice strikes;
that a line of men so tough within...
are reduced to simple tykes!
By William E. Hardison (c)
"The MooseHead Poker Clan"
* * *
'Twas five o'clock when there I knocked at the rear of the MooseHead Club.
Three raps on the door, and then one more, and then some "dude" named Clyde ...
peers outside through a hole inside to check my ticket stub.
When he sees it's me, he turns a key and the door comes open wide.
I went inside the smoke-filled dive and headed for the backroom game --
through smoke and dust to fill my lust, where no one knows no shame.
Down the hall past the bathroom stall.. to the last door on the right,
where I rapped once more like I did before, and they opened upon my sight.
We meet each day in the same old way and play on through the night;
with a game of wits 'til someone quits... a winner, or a loser's plight.
Poker is the the name, and "stud" is the game, and a vicious way it's played;
with "cut-throat" bets without any frets, without any mercy gave.
I never see any sympathy coming from any man,
our blood is cold, and our hearts are bold, when we play in this here clan!
* * *
I don't know why any normal guy is compelled to fill a void;
to work all day then lose his pay to ease his mind anoyed.
So I guess by now you know my brow has gathered a lot of sweat;
in dealing cards without regards for my family's strong regret.
But in this game I meet my fame, my ego's miles up high;
but when I lose, I'm in recluse and feel my end is nigh;
and through the years were many tears...just fighting a losing fight,
but back I went in anxious bent.. to win, and end my plight;
for you always think that you're on the brink of winning something great;
with aces down my heart will pound, that this pot seals my fate;
but it often seems that some guy beams, when his card from the deck,
comes to mate his "flush" or "straight", and leaves me a total wreck!
When there is no gain, I feel the pain but strive with new desire;
to win so bad what I once had, to douse my gambling fire.
But all us men are hard within and won't give-up our ploy.
Each man is steel with a stubborn will to reach some height of glory.
So through the maze and smoking haze, our piercing eyes go daunting;
to find a way to make all pay, by "bluffing" and in flaunting.
But we gather here together whether luck is good or not,
our fever now won't last forever, for time will cure this lot!
I alwys hope not to be a "dope", or just an "also ran",
but it's not old news that I always lose when I play with the MooseHead Clan!
William E. Hardison (c)
Two Sides To Everything
* * *
I may not have to tell you
that our world is in a mess;
for it's saddled through and through
with corruption and unrest.
It's kindled by an awful trend
from whence our woes became;
a surge of hateful crime and sin
that feeds it's burning flame!
The world is now a battleground
between the good and bad;
the tools of war or who we are
and where our goals are bound.
The leaders are a choice of two,
The Devil or the LORD;
Jesus Christ, the one to choose,
will do away the sword!
For those whom serve the evil side,
the blood is on their hands,
for they are on a rocky ride
that ends in sinking sands.
'Cause somewhere in the vast beyond,
the good side shall prevail;
and evil ones will then succumb
to backfire's burning hell!
* * *
WILLIAM E. HARDISON (c)
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