Folk Tales

Music and Texts of  GARY BACHLUND

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Folk Tales


Mister Nebbish Milquetoast
Dares not speak a word
For fear some print and chatter
Would judge him as absurd.
Missus Jumpy Cold Feet
Sits in silent thought,
Certain her noisy thinking
Will judge her as it aught.
Jolly Molly Coddle
Appeases as Molly fied,
Cosseted in her smugness
And with velvet fists allied.
Mister Indy Pendent
Pisses a bees' hive off,
And out they buzz in anger,
Showing off their trough.
Missus Carrie Tales
Tells too many things,
Unfounded and ungrounded,
Are her tasty, touchy stings.
Old Doc Skip Tickle
Laughs at what lips wag;
Words enrage to anger;
A slight snicker will them snag.
Little Johnny Panic
Answers wrong with right
And learns a simple truth
Stirs up a fist-fought fight.
Governor Shady Deal
Deals from the bottom of his deck,
Barking back at critics
Who foretell his shady wreck.
Little Lost Boy drugged,
Diagnosed being all boy,
Loses a childhood's childhood
As pills replace plain joy.
Randy Johnny Condom
Forgets the risks ahead,
But forges on and in and up
To no good in each spread.
Missus Prim-n-Proper
Doilies knits and purls,
While Backwoods Billy bobs
And weaves to trap some squirrels.
Little Baby Basin,
Pieces clipped into peace,
Thinks not of civil choosing
Which chose its life to cease.
Little Sexy Baby Doll
Dolls up pretty to the nines
For pheromones' pert passions
Lechery's fantasy bright shines.
Cleric Sure bin Certain
Tells all just what to do,
And plans a time that's coming
When Certain comes for you.
Philanthropic Skinflint
Keeps the most himself,
Staying, braying richly
Of his donations, not his pelf.
Poor Little Me is poor, you see,
Though with a lot of stuff,
And weeps like crocodiles
That lots is not enough.
Socialite Lady Lightly
Plays the social lights,
Grandee in her grandeur
Yet wounded by slight slights.
Feral Boy who thinks he's man
Enough to whip it out,
Finds reality lies in wait,
Unforgiving to this lout.
Mayor Mayer Honor
Parties like a champ,
Offices securely barred --
It's the people's armored camp.
Professor Seize the Future
Knows not what the morrow brings,
But of tomorrow's centuries
He professes dire things.
Diplomat Whine and Dine
Flies about the ego world,
Saying this, then saying that;
Gordian knots stay tightly curled.
A scholar of so many things
Learns he learns not much;
The length and breath of a world
Are far too wide to touch.
Second Fiddle sits to scratch
Awhile while arms fling high.
Listen for the boom and bang,
Which drown a scraping sigh.
Chancellor Aplenty
Rakes the students in,
Granting simple sheepskins
With a debt buried therein.
An Honors Society meets to preen
In its congratulatory zeal
As it lifts the cup unto its own
With a self-congratulatory spiel.
Mister John Q Public
Casts votes on tempests' waters;
Those chosen by the Public
Choose a policy that slaughters.
Cassandras shriek, seeing well
What well might come to be.
It is their lot, millennia tell,
To be ignored, you see.
Editor Poppycock
Edits the news;
The happiest stories
Are sung like the blues.
Engineer Bill wires us,
The cogs in the common wheel,
Hoping to serve his bidding
And churn out his commonweal.
General Good commands;
His troops lay down their lives.
Such are the ways of war,
And a General Good survives.
Bishop Prick and Preacher Man
Pass round their gilded plate.
Heed their sermons, might one?
But not when they adulterate.
Granny Gripe and Uncle Tom
Face off in the public square.
What to one just seems right
To the other's left said unfair.
True heroines like heroes
Are few and far between.
Mostly they are most ignored,
And pass their lives unseen.
A code is pink, in future green.
Some plans are red as read.
Lou the Lemming rushes round
According to plans he's fed.
Punditry's Talking points
To the left, then to the right.
Might we be so well informed?
No compromise in sight?

Celebrities cell themselves
And the products that they hawk.
It's all about their money.

Their walk's unlike their talk.

Little Jimmy de Window
Breaks just a rule or two.
Acquisition is his game,
And he won't brake for you.
Lady Highfaluting
Will not be patronized;
But if you become her patron
She'll moan in moneyed sighs.
Radical Al gets violent
When he can't win his way;
His vision is the best, you see,
And as such he must hold sway.
Arthur Authority rules.
One must not disagree.
Such says Art's ruling class
Quite unabashedly.
Billy Willy-Nilly,
A wishy-washy sort,
Hems and haws of this and that;
Into pretzels he'll contort.
Sue? She sues
At the drop of a hat,
The spill of a cup,
Without caveat.
Auntie Depressants fuels her fires
With promises of calm.
A simpler life holds answers;
Less dangerous is it balm.
Newlyweds newly beds
In idyllic softened love.
Then time passes, edges fray,
And easily push comes to shove.
Love your neighbor as yourself,
When you drink your night away?
Then take your neighbor to the pub,
And drink and pay and pay.
Mothers are like Mother Mary,
And like Medea, too, one learns.
The stories? There are many.
One love nurtures as another burns.
Let's organize community,
And for those who will not play,
We'll organize a party
To drive them all away.
Folks come in all sizes,
All shapes and colors rare.
Thank goodness for our clothing;
Most I'd rather not see bare.
The mad man of each village
Knows medicines quite rare.
But the wheat is mixed in with the chaff,
In confusion's public square.
Folk tunes' authors are unknown
While their melodies sing on.
Though I know not those who wrote,
To their tunefulness I am drawn.
There's a good witch and a bad witch,
Both part of an adventurous tale.
Which witch which one favors
Is a matter of no small detail.
The trickster vows he isn't,
And the liar swears all's true.
Now who would you care to believe?
Your answers tell much of you.
Smithy Smith stays on to sweat
And forge tomorrow's tools.
There are those who shirk such work,
And they are this day's fools.
Mister Baker's daily bread
Is praised in oft-said prayer.
In early mornings he must rise
And for us all prepare.
Ferry me, Ferryman,
When I must cross the deep.
I pray Someone assist me
When my way grows far too steep.
Known and unknown folk have taught
Across centuries' and cultures' span.
It is to many one owes so much,
To each named and each unnamed man.


Original material - Copyright © 2014 by Gary Bachlund