This Was Another Exasperatin' Day

The day was March the Seventeenth

In Nineteen Hundred Eighty-Three

A bunch of us wild Irishmen

Decided to go on a spree

We drank a lot of Irish whiskey

And got as drunk as Murphy's pup

We then drank lots of Irish coffee

As we tried to sober up

On the next day, March the Eighteenth

Nineteen Hundred Eighty-Three

A bunch of us wild Irishmen

Were as sick as we could be

This wild Irishman is so sick

He can hardly see

He says he's never going to go

On another spree

D.B. Cox

 

Here We Go Again

We're going to turn our clocks ahead

Just like we did last year

They say we'll gain a lot of hours

To me it isn't clear

I've still lots of hours, unused

From Eighty-Seven and Eighty-Six

I don't really know what to do with them

I'm really in a fix

I've also got some hours I gained

in Eighty-Three and Eighty-Four

With all those hours I've got piled up

I don't need any more

If any of you folks down here

Need another hour or two

I'll gladly give you some of mine

That's the best thing I can do

I checked savings time in the country

and regular time in town

I find the hours are just the same

From sun up to sun down

D.B. Cox

Happy Valentine's Day!

 

On February the Fourteenth

Dan Cupid came down from above

He thought he'd shoot me in the heart

So maybe I would fall in love

He let an arrow flay at me

I think he's some kind of nut

He missed my heart almost two feet

And hit me right square in the butt

They say that we should not get made

But stay real calm and meek

And when someone does us wrong

We should turn the other cheek

But I am not real sure that I

Believe in all that stuff

So I did not do as they say

Because one sore cheek is enough

I don't know just long long t'will be

Till I can take a seat

Because the way things are right now

I have to stand up while I eat

D.B. Cox

Ground Hog Day

Here is a compilation of some of Grandad's Ground Hog Day poems:

Here I am out here today

And if it’s true what people say

I’ll crawl back in my hole and stay

Till it warms up some time in May

D.B. Cox 

I hoped I’d come out here and say

This is a really cloudy day

So I could fill your hearts with cheer

To think that spring would soon be here

But it’s not cloudy here today

So here’s all I can think to say

I really hate to let you down

I am the saddest hog in town

I saw my shadow big and clear

Just like I did this time last year

I’ll crawl back in my hold and stay

And come back out the last of May

D.B. Cox

This is the first time I've been here

I saw my shadow loud and clear

So I’ll go back home very soon

And come back out in May or June

I really like to eat that feed

I eat all that I can

As you can see I've ate too much

Or laid too close to my Old Man

D.B. Cox 

I came out there again today

On February Two

I really thought perhaps this year

I’d find something brand new

But it is still the same old story

I saw my shadow hanging ‘round

And I also found there wasn't

Any snow upon the ground

There’s six more weeks of winter

I suppose that make you sore

So I’ll crawl back in my hole and stay

Till Nineteen-Hundred-Eighty-Four

D.B. Cox

Well here I am out here again

I come here every year

But I won’t stay here very long

It sure is nice and clear

And here on this sun-shinny morn

My lovely shadow lays

That means it’s going to get real bad

For lots and lots more days

So I’ll crawl back down in the ground

I’ll not be back too soon

If it gets bad again in May

I won’t be back till June

D.B. Cox 

Ground Hog Day will soon be here

It comes about this time each year

The ground hog crawls out of the ground

He blinks his eyes and looks around

And if his shadow he does see

He makes a frown and says, “Oh gee,”

“Spring won’t be here for many a day”

Then crawls back in his hole to stay

Until he thinks, “This is the day”

Sometime in April or maybe May

But is his shadow he can’t see

He funds and smiles and yells, “Whoopee!”

For his is happy and filled with cheer

He says that Spring will soon be here

We hope he’s right and knows his stuff

Of that cold weather we've had enough

But we’re not sure that we agree

So we’ll just have to wait and see

D.B. Cox

The ground hog come upon the scene

About this time each year

He’s very anxious to find out

If it is cloudy or if it’s clear

He pokes his head out of the ground

To see what he can see

His cheeks are pudgy, his eyes are squinty

They say he looks a lot like me

If it is really cloudy

He nearly strips a cog

He thinks that Spring will soon be here

He is a happy hog

But it it’s really nice and clear

He promptly turns around

Spring won’t be here for several weeks

So he crawls back in to the ground

D.B. Cox

Birthday Poems

Nearly every year, Grandad would write a poem and take a picture for his birthday. Here is a compilation of the remaining birthday poems:

I haven’t gone to Hell or Heaven

So I’ve reached the age of seventy-seven

My teeth are false, my hair is thin

But I’m in good shape for the shape I’m in

I am so pudgy my clothes don’t fit

I don’t work much, I mostly sit

I thought perhaps you’d like to see

So I took this photograph of me

I may be old and weak and slow

But I’m not ready yet to go

So I’ll just let the Devil wait

Then next year I’ll be seventy-eight.

D.B. Cox

On this very important date

I reached the age of seventy-eight

I wasn’t sure that I’d survive

But I think that I am still alive

My teeth are false, my hair’s still thin

I’m still OK for the shape I’m in

I have a lot of high-powered pills

To cure all kids of Old Age Ills

If I take my pills I’ll be just fine

Then next year I’ll be seventy-nine

D.B. Cox

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

I’ve reached the age of seventy-nine

I says to myself, “I’m feeling fine”

Self says, “Your aches and pains are few

But you’ve got lots of miles on you”

Then I says, “Yes but I’m all right

Cause I don’t smoke or drink or fight

And even though I may be queer

I’ll be eighty this time next year”

D.B. Cox

I’ve reached the age of eighty

And life has just begun

I’m in my second childhood

I should have lots of fun

If I have lots of aches and pains

It’s mostly in my head

Forget about the aches and pains

That’s what the doctor said

If I reach up for things real high

Look out, alas, alack!

Instead of getting what I want

I fall flat on my back

And then if I stoop over

To clean up this old place

I just keep going forward

And fall flat on my face

My toenails need trimming

To do that would be neat

But here’s the trouble with that chore

I cannot reach my feet

I’ll throw out my comb and brush

I’m running out of hair

My head resembles heaven

For there’s no parting there

It’s hard to read the paper

I have real poor eyesight

And all my teeth for just like stars

They come out every night

And when I go down town to eat

I find I’m prone to loiter

That’s the reason I’ve developed

This dad-burn table goiter

I guess that I’m real lucky

So I’ll stop feeling sore

And wonder what I’ll do if I

Hang on for eighty more

D.B. Cox

ANOTHER HAPPY BIRTHDAY

I’ve reach the age of eighty-two

For me that’s really something new

That equals two years plus four score

I’ve never been this old before

And though it’s sad I’ll try to grin

I’ll never be this young again

I try to cure most of my ills

By taking lots of high-priced pills

And even though I’m low on wealth

I’ll try to take care of my health

There’s lots of things I mustn’t do

So listed here are just a few

I will not ride in those fast cars

And I’ll stay out of all those bars

I won’t argue with any cop

And chasing girls will have to stop

I’ll do the things that are the best

And always get a lot of rest

I’ll be as good as I can be

Then next year I’ll be eighty-three

D.B. Cox 

I haven’t got to Hell or Heaven

And now it’s Nineteen-Eighty-Seven

I didn’t know if I’d survive

But I’m still here and half

I didn’t celebrate this year

I didn’t even have a beer

I hate to go out in the cold

I wonder if I’m getting old

I’ve reach the age of eighty-three

I’m still as happy as can be

If I catch cold and start to whine

I say to me, “You’re feeling fine”

I’m getting taller I declare

I’ve grown right straight up through my hair

If I can hand on for twelve months more

Then next year I’ll be eighty-four

D.B. Cox 

 ANOTHER BRAIN STORM

It’s Nineteen-Hundred-Eighty-Eight

And I’m too old to celebrate

I didn’t go to Hell or Heaven

In Nineteen-Hundred-Eighty-Seven

And I’m so glad that I’m still here

I’ll stay at least another year

I hope it’s better in Eighty-Eight

And the world’s not filled with so much hate

I’ve reached the age of eighty-four

That’s older than I’ve been before

It makes me sad to realize

I’ll never be this young again

So I’ll keep right on plugging away

And exercise most every day

And I’ll behave and stay alive

Then next year I’ll be eighty-five

D.B. Cox

ANOTHER OF D.B.’S BRAIN STORMS

I guess I’m still alive because

I haven’t gone to Hell or Heaven

I’ve hung around another year

And reached the age of eighty-seven

I’ve never been this old before

I’ll take it with a grin

Because I’m really sure that I

Will never be this young again

I guess the Stork delivered me

In Nineteen-Hundred-Four

It really was an awful shock

I’d never been born before

It was a cold and blustery day

So he wrapped in a nice warm cover

Then left at a home so I

Would be close to my mother

When I was just a little type

I was ornery as could be

If I had been my parents

I would have drowned me

When I was old enough for school

I wasn’t too good and not too bad

But when I finally graduated

It sure did make the teachers glad

So I kept right on growing older

And getting bigger too

I finally reached adulthood

Like most all knot-heads do

I went to work in the oil fields

I was lucky to be hired

I worked for lots and lots of years

And finally retired

I’ve been retired for a long time now

There’s been some tears but lots of laughter

And lately I’ve been thinking about

That thing called the here-after

Some say that after we pass over

We could come back again

We might be almost anything

Expect we won’t be men

If we come back again they say

We don’t know what we’ll be

I wouldn’t want to be a fly

For someone might swat me

There are lots of things I think about

I wouldn’t want to be

I’d hate to be an old plow horse

For work and I do not agree

I wouldn’t want to be a pig

For instance an old shoat

Another thing I’d hate to be

Is a dadburn billy goat

I could come back as a grizzly bear

I don’t know how one feels

They sleep from fall until spring

That’s too long between meals

If I came back as a giraffe

That’s worse than being a goat

It would be revoltin’

If I got a sore throat

I might come back as a grey wolf

But I have heard it said

If I ate some old rancher’s sheep

He’d shoot me in the head

I’d hate to be a dadburn snake

That’s worse than being a their

They say when one crawls through the grass

That tickles underneath

I’ve thought about this coming back

But after hearing what’s been said

I don’t think I’ll come back again

I think I’ll just stay dead

D.B. Cox