Sweet Freedom

I love this story! It brings back a feeling of freedom from the wonder years of my youth. There were some bad times–sometimes some really bad times, but I choose to dwell on and remember the awesome good things. By the way, “Just A Boy” is with the publisher and will probably hit the shelves around the first of October.

Marbles In My Pocket ~ The Official Blog of Charles L. Mashburn ~ Poems, Short Stories, and random thoughts from the author of "Be Still... and know that I am God"

boy on bikeThey paved the streets in our neighborhood the summer before I started fifth grade, and a year later found me racing down the middle of Fourth Avenue going nowhere in particular, the whir of my bike’s tires on the smooth blacktop humming a one note song. It wasn’t even six o’clock—Saturday morning—and it seemed as though I was the only person in the world. I was free! No rules, no limits, no worries and no fears.

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The Same Thing Only Different

Bubbles and Lies

Bubbles are much like lies 

They usually come in bunches

One leading to another

Obscuring the truth of who we are

 

But they soon drift away

Leaving the others to burst in time

And always sooner than we expect

We are exposed to the world

 

Some are big, some are small

Some reflect the light in beautiful ways

Fooling those who witness them

But only for a short while

 

Bubbles and lies cannot survive

Unless time can be stopped

Or the expelling of them does not

Or… they become our truth

 

What will we do

When the bubbles are all gone

When the world sees us clearly

As we stand naked and ashamed

 

Will we hang our heads

Or quickly dip into the jar

Wave our arms and like magic

Remain a figment of our delusion

bubble

 

Copyright © C. Mashburn 2011

Photo courtesy of Google Images

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Soup in My Fly

I thought y’all might could use a little Monday morning giggle!

A Fly In My Soup

 

There’s a fly in my soup, I shouted 

A hush fell over the room                       

The big cook with one lazy eye                  

Stared straight at me…. I assumed

 

Slowly, he walked to my table

A pin dropping could not have been heard

Said, say it again ‘bout the bug, my friend

And it may be your very last words

 

Well baloney, I thought and then I said, what

To me you’ll not speak to like that

He gave a big grin, looked right at me again (I think)

Then the soup hit my lap with a splat

fly in soup

Laughter uproarious filled the room

I blushed and then leapt from my seat

Looked up at my huge assailant

And then hastily beat my retreat

 

Arrived at the house much disheveled

The wife said, oh me and oh my

Dear I must ask you this question

Did you know you’ve got soup in your fly?

 

Copyright © 1998 C. Mashburn

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A Fathers Day Tribute

My grandfather, Luther “Bunk” Stringer, was a man whose life, in my opinion, was of historic note, and his story deserves to be told and remembered. He was by far the best man I ever knew and he was my hero. If I’m one day considered to be even half the man Bunk Stringer was, I, too, will have had one hell of a ride.

One Hell of a Ride

 

Come over here and sit for a spell

Lend an ear, I’ll give it a bend

I’ve been known to tell a tale or two

Of things that were, or might have been

 

With words I’ll paint a picture of days

When I was young and I was lean

Of days I sat tall in the saddle

Long ago when just a teen

 

I’ll tell of the time I met a girl

Who made me blush and act the fool

The most beautiful girl in Texas

Was no mistake they called her Jewel

 

I’ll tell you about the sunlit days

                              Out on the north Texas plains

Where I chased the steers that wandered

                                 ‘cross the hot mesquite filled range

 

I’ll tell of how I sat atop my mount

         On a hill as I pondered and dreamed

             Dreams of what lay beyond the hills

                   Far places I’d never been

 

I’ll tell you ‘bout some of those places

For a bit of traveling I have done

                                Oh, I wandered from ocean to ocean

                              In pursuit of that brighter sun

 

     But all roads lead me back here

                         Now I’ve lost the lust to roam

And so you find me here on this porch

       In Texas, my home sweet home

 

No, I don’t have much to show

                               For the eighty some years I’ve lived

For I lived hard and I loved hard

                            I gave this world all I had to give

 

But cry not when you look upon

             The few things I leave behind

My life was full of love and laughter

            And I had one hell of a ride

Copyright © 1996 C. Mashburn

 

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It’s Just What We Do

I came across this old article I wrote 6 years ago, and it just happens that yesterday I spent several agonizing, torturous hours planning a vacation we’re about to take. The Internet and websites can be very aggravating sometimes. But my point is; I’m still part of the herd!

Marbles In My Pocket ~ The Official Blog of Charles L. Mashburn ~ Poems, Short Stories, and random thoughts from the author of "Be Still... and know that I am God"

I often find myself watching people as they hurry here and there, and it amazes me to contemplate how many people are scurrying about on this planet at any given time. And it no longer stops at night; our planet has become a 24/7 world that never stops. It might slow down, but there is almost always activity, no matter the time of day.

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Be No Evil

Sometimes… it ain’t nothing but monkey bidness.

Marbles In My Pocket ~ The Official Blog of Charles L. Mashburn ~ Poems, Short Stories, and random thoughts from the author of "Be Still... and know that I am God"

“>The white sands of the beach glistened like diamonds as the early morning sun rose slowly over the vast blue ocean. Waves rushed in, gently roaring then hissing as they seemed to magically disappear into the sparkling white shore. A few hundred feet beyond the water’s edge, the dense jungle was dark, the sun unable to penetrate the thick leaves and vines that grew unabated. If you were to look closely and be at exactly the right angle, a path could be seen; an opening that would take you into the hidden depths.

A place where no man had ever trod, yet a civilization of sorts thrived; a place where bananas grew on trees tall and slender; the weight of the huge clusters of them causing the trees to bend to the ground, allowing the inhabitants to easily pick them. Coconuts ripened and fell, often causing injury—even death—to unsuspecting wanderers…

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Right Where I Am

I am quoteAll my life, I’ve heard the saying, “let go and let God,” but I resisted, thinking it was a cop out—an easy way out. No, I thought, I’ve got to keep fighting; I’ve got to figure this out on my own. These days, I can’t say I’ve completely let go, and I can’t say I’m now completely letting God. But I can say I’ve come a long way in both regards. And I didn’t know it at the time but even when I was trying to do it all on my own, God was guiding me to the place He needed me to be. Right where I am.

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you. Psalm 32:8

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