Shack Attack Back an Act

Attract what you fact.

And that’s a tack.

Stuck under the thumb rack.

Let’s make a pact.

To attract and attack.

The lack of fact.

To Sack the Rack of Lack.

Mack, pack, and stack the color of love without flack.

Crack the egg of attract.

And subtract the hate that tracks.

And sidetrack the tact.

Hey just say get back jack.

I know the yak.

TAK a shacked attack.

Mirror the hack.

Just a crack.

And you will give the learned a knack.

From fiction to truth bak.





While look for my merry.

I found a shake topped with a cherry.

So, I took the ferry.

To the dairy.

Opinions may vary.

But it was very scary.

You see she wanted to marry.

Oh, contrary.

She announced I would be primary.

But here I sit at the library.

As I read all about berries.

Or is all this imaginary.

You think that extraordinary?

A bit reactionary.

While I check my itinery.

I’ll head to the apothecary.

But I found my merry unmarried Mary.

How necessary that unitary.



Letter Writers Selling news
Tell all the people that you see
Follow me
Tell all the people that you see
Follow me down. It’s free.

Walk Away

Blacklist me.  

Walk Away.

Curse me.      

Walk Away.

Bully me.          

Walk Away.

Evict me.          

Walk Away.

Analyze me.      

Walk Away.

Materialize me.

Walk Away.

Number me.      

Walk Away.

Restrain me.

Walk Away.

Mask me.

Walk away.

Distance me.

Walk away.

Lie to me.

Walk away.

Limit me.

Walk away.

Destroy me.

Walk away.

Anger me.

Walk away.

Leave me.

Walk away.

Walk away.

Walk the other way.

Threaten me.

 I Walk your way.



Gonna 86 It

We Gonna fix or we Gonna eight six

They call me Trixie, or they call me Dixie.

I call tricksy.

The Guilty dog always points first.

So, we Gonna fix or we Gonna eight six.

Then sing Dixie.

This 76er is riding with you Hick sirs.

The huskers and shuckers

WE got yo back.

Not cutting’ any slack Jack.

So, get in back cuz.

WE all ways be with u bruh.

Cuz we are spinning’ or spun’

Or totting’ a gun just for fun

You understand cuz’ but we’se still be prayin and sayin blessings.

We got this Dad.

We been waitin propagating’.

Not just Satan.

But on you too.

We can dig on some peace and love Dog.

We Gonna fix or we Gonna 86.



Waiting, Waiting

Waiting, Waiting


A theory about fating.

While others are baiting.

I keep waiting, waiting.

Others seem to have found the Gating.

But to my surprise they are not celebrating.

Waiting, waiting.

That empty feeling of not rating.

I think I’ve found it but it’s abating.

Time can be terminating.

Waiting, waiting.

Its, frustrating, grating.

While I try conflating and mating.

The world keeps dictating.

But there words need translating.

This constant debating.

I need to get on with consummating.

 I will try arbitrating.

This waiting, waiting.



Torre, Torre, Torre

Let me spin you a yarn.

 And at the end you will say darn.

Truth is of what I speak.

 A tribute to Joseph Torre I do seek.

What I found was a satori.

Spiritual awakenings can lead to glory.

Joe  a Brave Cardinal manager for them Bombers.

He called the Angels.  Met the Mets.

Managed to not to dodge the Dodgers.

Hall of Fame.  A baseball executive in his own elite category.

Joseph Paul Torre that’s amore.

How could I ever forget 1996. I wish my mind would go  blank.

Because James Joseph Leyritz made bank.  He put my Braves in the tank.

Born December 27 on my birthday.  Wohler’s pitch he did yank.

Because the Joseph’s it seems had us outflanked.

Enough Joe’s and woes. After all it was the Show.

 Let, this be a tribute to Joseph Torre.  Aka Frank. Born Frank Joseph Torre.

He should have been a Yank.  Think Frank. From Brooklyn, NY.

Playing first base number 14 Frank “the Yank” Torre.

Gold glover in his own right.  His story warmed our soul, as my heart sank.

Let’s not forget brother Rocco.  No Joe in this Torre that I know.

So that’s the baseball  Torre’s and All-American Bordeaux.

Thanks,  Joe for the memories! 



Why Cardinals dealt Orlando Cepeda for Joe Torre

For such a straightforward deal, the trade of Joe Torre to the Cardinals for Orlando Cepeda took some twists and turns involving pitcher Nolan Ryan and center fielder Curt Flood.

On March 17, 1969, the Cardinals sent Cepeda to the Braves for Torre in a swap of first basemen.

The Braves were shopping Torre because he was feuding with general manager Paul Richards and hadn’t signed a contract. Most thought Torre would go to the Mets, who’d been in trade talks with the Braves for several weeks.

The Mets offered pitcher Nolan Ryan, first baseman Ed Kranepool, infielder Bob Heise and a choice of catchers, J.C. Martin or Duffy Dyer, for Torre and third baseman Bob Aspromonte, The Sporting News reported. Torre and Aspromonte were Brooklyn natives.

Ryan, who would become baseball’s all-time leader in strikeouts, impressed the Braves but was a raw talent. Richards rejected the four-for-two proposal because he wanted catcher Jerry Grote or outfielder Amos Otis, but the Mets “labeled them untouchables,” according to Atlanta Constitution sports editor Jesse Outlar.

“We aren’t making a deal with the Mets unless they change their minds,” Richards said.

When the Mets wouldn’t budge, the Braves offered Torre to the Dodgers for catcher Tom Haller, but the Dodgers weren’t interested, the Constitution reported.

Cardinals general manager Bing Devine offered Cepeda and Flood for Torre and outfielder Felipe Alou, according to the Constitution, but Richards wouldn’t trade Alou, so the clubs settled on Cepeda for Torre. Seven months later, when the Cardinals traded Flood to the Phillies, he refused to report, prompting his legal challenge of the reserve clause and opening a path to the creation of free agency.

Cepeda feels chill

The Cardinals were willing to trade Cepeda because his performance declined in 1968 and he miffed management by reporting late to spring training in 1969.

After batting .325 with 111 RBI and winning the National League Most Valuable Player Award with the Cardinals in 1967, Cepeda hit .248 with 73 RBI in 1968.

Cepeda “found himself taken advantage of by well-wishing friends who helped him pile up debts and other problems that didn’t endear him to the Redbirds management … especially when at times he’d duck out of the dugout between innings to conduct personal matters,” Bob Broeg of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported.

The Cardinals hoped Cepeda would be more focused in 1969, but he informed Devine by telegram he would report late to spring training.

When Cepeda arrived at camp on March 5, he said he’d been sick, but Devine fined him $250 for reporting 48 hours later than he said he would.

Cepeda said he detected “a coolness” from Devine, and Broeg reported “Cepeda realized there had been a change in attitude toward him.”

“Bing was not terribly friendly, and he was all business,” Cepeda said in his 1998 book “Baby Bull.”

In his 2004 book “The Memoirs of Bing Devine,” Devine said, “I thought Cepeda might be on the way down.”

I almost forgot sir.  If they ever make another movie about the Joes.

Remember the name Joseph Pierre Torry from St. Louis, Missouri.

He’s in a Hall of Fame too!  That concludes my Poetic Justice for number Six.

Ironically, Cha Cha Cepeda played parts of six years for the Braves.

And to think we could have had the Ryan Express. Sorry.

And your reckoning continued in 1999 to sweep up another crown.

Foolish Fool

I can’t stop loving you.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop loving me.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop loving.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop living.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop dying.

You foolish fool.

I can’t the sun from going down.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop anything.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop searching.

You foolish fool.

I can’t find kindness.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop destruction.

You foolish fool.

I can’t stop the other thought.

You foolish fool.

I can stop two though.

You, foolish, foolish, foolish,

Other you.



Welcome to the Block

Hi, welcome to the Pearly Gates.

My name is Saint Peter and I’ll be your guide.

And who might you be?

I’m P (coughs).  Holds up book in hand and points.

Hmm. Hayes.  Yes, here we are a writer. Touché.

Purplehayes58.  A pen name I presume.  Let me see.

Says here died of writers block. Suicide.  So sad.  Is that correct.

No sir it was Writers Glock.  Not block.  I was worried about block.

But it seems I contracted lock first.  Let me tell you, all I could do was write.

Which was awesome for about a month.  Then it went into writers dock.

My ship finally came in and docked.  And the writing continued.

As my symptoms worsened it lead to something call Writers Mock.

I started to resent other writers and started to mock them.  One thing led to another.

Before you know it, I was back in Writers Mental Hospital Block.

Social distancing was non-existent, and I caught another block. Rock block for writers only.

It’s genetic or in my DNA.  So, I had the rock block blues.  But I was a rocking, writing machine gun block.

Other writers were envious and jealous.  They were always trying to steal my journal.

Talking behind my back and plotting against me.  One accused me of plagiarism so I Knocked His Block off.

Violence is never the answer.  I knew that but ego got in my eyes.  From then on, I tried to stop writing but the flow was always there. 

One of the writers had a gun snuck in to him.  He came to my room and shot me with a Glock Block.

Which led me here to you St Peter and the Pearly Gates. 

Sad, so sad.  People never cease to amaze.  But I think you’ll be happy here.  And I welcome you to Heaven.  Here the only block you will get is called Flock Block.  But right now, you’re showing symptoms of Dead writers Lock Block and a mild case of Dead Writers Heart Lock.

You may pass and the next door be sure to Knock, Knock so you won’t get Jock Block.

Good luck and remember from now on you have Off the Clock Writers Block.  Relax and enjoy so you won’t get Writers Squawk Block.  It’s just surfaced the Block that Writers Cuckoo Clock He’s a Writing Peacock Block. Welcome to the Block. Try not to Block.

Damn this is a WordPress Block. That’s funny I don’t care who you are fellow posters.

Purplehaze Block


Funny Money

I’m listening.

Talk to me.

I hear a whisper.

Scream so I can hear.

That’s it. There you go.

You are singing my song.

Come on. Commit.

Get the rhythm or the blues.

Look for the one with green eyes.

The Tiffany twisted eyes.

Let me watch you strut.

And hear you screech.

Bring to halt doubts.

About registering some cash.

Let them hear  elementary money talk.

Any language of coins.

As long it will fold.

We’ll find a way to spend it.

So, voice send it.

I’ll be your pay pal.  Let debit your apple pay hot stuff.

And you can google my pay all day.

I was born to boogie. I got the boogie-woogie cold hard cash seeing green blues.

Money to burn.

Cash for trash.

Bills for thrills.

And a dollar to make you holler.

I’m done working for a handful of dimes.

Punching my ticket to riches and new britches.

Ha!  Thought I was going to say I need two phones.

One for plug one for the load.

One for a female cat one for the dough dog.

Cute aren’t I.

Money, money.

Yea I know it Mony, mony.

I like my version better.

Money is the root of all evil.

No, it’s the love of money that is evil.

You win some you lose some.

Show me the money I got ramble.

I got to gamble. Don’t give that one last silver dollar.

I  don’t need change I need folding money.

Mad money, furious money, slush fund money.

No petty cash unless it leads to Fort Knox.

Along the way throw in the chicks for free.

Money for nothing.

You keep the shaft.

And I’ll take the gold mine.

I knew  you wouldn’t mind.

Cause I’ll share.

Trust funds for everyone.

You daughters and son of guns.

That was some funny money.

You know fake cash with Trump 2020.

The newest Biden with the Mask of Blade.

Speaking of grass.  Alas.

Green keep it coming.

I’m through thumbing.

Are  we clear?  Keep it humming you are crystal clear.

I want to be rich. I want to be rich.  Sing it.

Charlie Rich,  Johnny Cash, Eddie Money there all here.

They told me where to hear you sing and you’ll give me easy money on Easy Street.

Down Cash for Free Lane.  Take a left on Abundance Tree Avenue.  No Dead Presidents Ends.

In this 411Town. Only Powerball winners for life.  Money it’s what’s in my wallet.  Cash back free miles of smiles

Marvelous. Marvelous.  Money, millions, billions, trillions,  what’s in a name.

My stash.  Let’s throw a bash.  Got plenty of hash.  Got tons of jack, hack, and fins. 

Life is funny when you have tons of money. 

I know of what you think.  Money won’t buy happiness.

 It won’t but it will put it on layaway.

I spent half my life unhappy.  Might as well test that theory.  I’m ready.

  Here I am. Rock me with a Money Hurricane. 




Let’s talk about two words Free and Freedom.

They are misspelled and need redefined.

What you mean jellybean.

Show me some free.

Always a fee.

Leave out that R.

Correct am undo.

Now freedom.

Give me some free-dumb.

You catch on quick. Passes go.

Get out of jail free?????

Zippy doo dah.

I’m feel numb.

What about free checking.

Let just light up and move along, wrong.

Freedom rings. Where?

America land of the free dumb.

But they are brave.

How about free puppies.

Vet bills. More puppies. Dog food.

Free fees for free dumb.

Freedom is a decision. A thought, a dream.

When you say you are free.

King said, Free at last. Free at last.

He became a part of.

Freedom is free when you say you are a member of the human race.

When you look in the mirror and realize everyone has the same thoughts, dreams, illness.

In other words.

You are just like me.

Look at the man in the mirror.

Change and be free.

Free. No one can make me any other way.

Except me. I am free.

I am freedom. I am me.

King’s dream lives free.

He paid the fee.

And his dream is in all of us.

What would King’s speech be concerning the election.

Nothing comes for free not even dreams.

I had a dream that one died to make us free.

Many died for our rights, our right to vote.

In the freest country in the world.

I have another dream the Secret Service of Freedom.

The serve and protect our Constitution and right to honest verified elections.

It’s the only way we have any freedom.

I volunteer to protect freedom

And will march to my death to do it.


I with ya!

I found something free.

Long distance phone calls.

Take that at and t.

Free in the dome.

Free at home.

Free all alone.

Free in the zone.

A free dumb thought to give you.

What did you think? PayPal fee?

No, but I am free zing.

You are not fee sing.

I mean you do not sing free.

But we don’t make no charge for air and water.

Air and water is free.

But gas and oil we make a charge for that.

Wrong.  Where is air free anymore?

Water maybe if they got a hose.

I got another one.

Buy one get one free.

Yep, but everything else in the store is jacked up.

Doubled, double crossed you.

Just as free as I’ll ever be.

No, we don’t have a lot of money.

Seven times.

Told you they were spelled wrong.

You’re dumb.

At least I don’t give it away free.

You assume. That makes an ass/u/me.

That one is on me. A freebie.



With a Cherry on Top

She even caught me on camera

(It wasn’t me)
She saw the marks on my shoulder
(It wasn’t me)


He said it wasn’t me.

I believe him.

Of course, you would because he’s your best friend.

He said it wasn’t me.

And it wasn’t me either.


You sure do hang out a lot.

And it wasn’t me either.


Like brothers you said.

I’ve known him since fourth grade.

And it wasn’t me either.

My point exactly.

It wasn’t me either.


I know how it goes deny, deny, and more denial.

It wasn’t me either.


Guilty by association.

I’d have to be in another dimension.

Or suspension.

It wasn’t me either.


For us.

Song quote.

Together quote.

Forever quote.


For you and me.

Please, pretty please.

With a cherry on top.




Truth SPUN

Have you ever been spun.

Let me tell you about the fun.

And then, none.

First, you’ll see the sun.

And that is not a pun son.

Try not to come undone.

We’ve only just begun.

Because you are about to run. Run, run, run.

Make a bank run.

But try to avoid a cost overrun.

Call the cook your stepson.

He’s homespun!

He can help your bull run.

Alas, another dry run.

But hope endures,  soon you shall be number one.

Just in case, keep handy a hand gun.

Relax not for the long run.

Because you’re about to hit a home run.

One that will stun.

Enjoy the bread Sally Lunn.

Hopefully before you forget you were once someone.

That you even have a grandson.

Remember you bought him a mister machine gun.

His first and only water gun.

Do you feel you’ve done a gross ton.

I know. You enjoy this mock sun.

You will not be outdone.

So, keep watching the rerun.

Soon someone will call a Father and nun.

Or you could just use the shot gun.

Bye everyone.



She Said

She Said

She said it’s just the sex.

And she was spot on.

It was just the sex.

Simply fucking amazing.

Times infinity.

If you would have been in my shoes.

Because it was simply nirvana.

The sex. Once in a lifetime.

Mirrored by her borrowed eyes.

Reality meets fantasy sex.

Universe, can I get some help here?

What did you say?

It’s just the sex.

Thanks, Universe love you too!



Strange Game

Let’s play a strange game.

I bet you know the game.

It’s called Strange Insane Magic Brain.

You never heard of it. I’m aghast.

Let me tell you. It’s a blast.

There are no rules.

But there are tools. Tools for fools.

Strange you say.  They are only words.

So, here’s what you do.

First, you say something strange.

Then pretend you have a magic brain.

And then go insane. Insane in the brain.

Then you obey.

After obeying, you become a zombie.

Oh, I forgot these are levels.

You can reach different levels

In other words, you can keep the game going.

Save it for when you meet up again.

And yes, this is a single or multiplayer game.

Today we’ll go solo.

Ready. Here I go.

Let it go. But first, let me put on my black mask.

Retrain your brain to rearrange your strange lane.

Does that make sense?

No?  I didn’t think it would. 

Retrain your brain and rearrange your lane, strange.


You’re strange your brain lane rearrange and retrain.

Okay, that’s my strange.

Now without further a due

My magic brain!

I’m alone in Bama.

Writing a poem.

With a magic brain.

It’s about a strange game.

A movie game. Strange movie.

My life.  They’re making a movie about me.

Damn, I didn’t get the memo.

That’s fine with me. I’ll just start over.

And over and over.

Until I like the ending.

That’s my magic brain.

Now.  My insane….