Don't you want to say that you know somebody who's famous?
Regardless of whether it's Imus or Amos?
Originally, without pain, you'd be gainless
Wisdom was our Principal, laid off, we aim less

NC promoted me up in front of the strangers
I learned at times family and friends are great dangers
NFL would be national farmlands and mangers
Gainsayers, naysayers, chambers, and rangers

Irregularities are often considered flaws
NRA protests, mistaken as applause
Selling your soul for the motor cycle should be against the laws
HLN reporters could build Taj Mahals

A leftover margin of followers go loca
Ln heirline booking trips to New Oprah
Less the bookishness, let's just jump on the sofa
OEM manspreaing like JHVH

Western Digital WD-40 spit
NSA is the new standard relationship
Each his own like Cheech and Chong be taking hits
Silver screens and scissors fissures and aftermints
Sriracha sauce on everything, new sacraments.

copyrighted ©2016 ノric L Farrell

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The Fire Works

Eric L Farrell - The Fire Works from Eric L Farrell on Vimeo.

I Pay For Email (How Email Works)

First of all, some of my readers do hate to read
And since I live by the pen, let me keep this at speed
Yes, I do pay for email. Yes, I know email is free
No, I'm not an idiot for paying someone a fee

Now hold on there a second! Let me explain myself
I don't go to the store and buy email off the shelf
That email is cheap! and it expires too fast!
I'm just playing; they don't sell email in a bag

You've gotta buy it online. And while I know that sounds worse
Relax there dear fella, stop clutching your purse
I mean, I have to buy it online. You don't pay for a thing
This round's on me, buddy. Now let me explain

Basically, I have to prove I'm not one of those spammers
Those email address thieves who sit around in pajamers
And email garbage to gobs of addresses they stole
So now to send to a large list, I now have to pay a toll

I hired a company to send my email to each separate address
Because if I send a big group mail, I'll fail the spam test
And every email I send will go straight to the spam box
Because AOL and Gmail will call the spam cops.

copyrighted ©2016 ノric L Farrell

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the true story of Henry Russ (1918-2002)

I have a little story
That I would like to tell
Of love, life, blessings
And death as well

The pain was unbearable
It's hard to understand
As we look back
At the mind of a young man

He had lost something dear
And from this, lost hope
But thank God for the knot
At the end of the rope

A young lady had once
Held the key to his heart
Came break-up time
And they had to depart

She went her way
And he went his
But he was headed toward
The San Fran Bay Bridge

On his way
He stopped to say bye
To one last friend
Before he took to the sky

This friend then looked him
Dead in his face
And asked if he would
Accept God's grace

But in place of those words
What he asked him then
Was, "Would you watch my shop?
A favor for a friend?"

Now the young man
Was not a pro with these cars
But he tinkered and he toyed
And he fixed a few parts

Hours went by
As he forgot about time
He forgot his old love
And the stress on his mind

He just wanted escape
From the broken-heartedness
So his life, he would take

His friend came back
When night was near
And he asked the young man
"Are you still here?"

The young man said,
"I fell in love with this art
I tinkered and I toyed
And I fixed this part!"

Still on his way
Caught the bus to his death
It was now nighttime
As he took a deep breath

He thought about how
His pain disappeared
As he tinkered and he toyed
Till his heart was re-geared

He thought about all
The things he would miss
He thought about that
And he thought about this

The girl might have had
the key to his heart
But he had found another way
To "make the car start"

But he was still on his way
To San Francisco's Bay
But this is not where God
Would have him stay

The bus light was on
But no one could see
The pain in his eyes
Where he would soon be

To look out of the window
He looked to the right
And what he saw next
Would change his life

He saw an old man
In the reflection of his eyes
And it stirred his soul
The old man was alive!

The old man said,
"I fell in love with this art
When God tinkered and toyed
And fixed my heart!"

And all of a sudden
A sudden change of plan
He crossed the bridge
From a boy to a man!

Now just think for a minute
If the light wasn't on
Would the reflection and the old man
That told this be gone?

copyrighted ©2004 ノric L Farrell
SEEKING SOLACE: finding peace and comfort in times of distress

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There is a man
That lives on the street
People pass by
But they never meet

He asks them for change
But he'll never change
Yet you ask me why
Because he has no name

You call him a bum
If you do you're the one
Still you have no respect for him
But it's your fault that you've never met with him

As they're sitting at the stop sign
It's like some have no heart
When they think in their mind
I'll be damned if I'll be broke, old, pushing on a shopping cart

When you walk by, you stare at him
Then walk over there to him
For pennies, he asks please
And he stands on bended knees

He has more manners
Because he has said please
You'd be too proud
You'd say, "I don't want these!"

You've offered five bones
You call it five dollars
It made him so happy
A grown man to holler

He states his knowledge
Said he was a scholar
It makes you feel good
You took time to bother

Some call him a bum
But you just say homeless
You've learned a new manner
To give him respect

Ten years later you meet again
He's in your shoes and you're in his
He gives you his because he's a friend
He gives you these because you said please.

copyrighted ©2005 ノric L Farrell

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