Yes, I creep to cover, smother,
choking greenery like no other.
I am Kudzu taking over
places once filled deep in clover,
trees and bushes, vines entwining;
each within my path declining.
Little fazed by drought or drenching;
thirst for space there is no quenching.
In the brightness of the daylight
or within the depths of midnight
I am climbing, creeping, crawling
at a rate that’s deemed appalling.
Once confined to Asian byways,
now I border Southern highways
in relentless, endless forging
of the landscape I am gorging.
There’s no herbicide nor potion
that impedes my forward motion.
Look at me, see how I gloat, I…
Nuts, here comes that blasted goat!


* A invasive vine in the southeastern United States that only grazing wild sheep and goats have proven to be successful inhibitors.



I think I like the pine tree best,
So straight and tall, stabbing the sky;
Its needles build a nest
Beneath a trunk that can’t be climbed
By climbers such as I.

Sequestered on a distant rise,
Or in repose of sturdy stands,
Its whispering belies
The noisy moans of prickly cones
It drops upon the land.

Yet pine trees have a solemn way
Of bending wind for singing songs
In bows that often sway
Defiantly above the lea,
Far from life’s teeming throngs.

Drenched in the shadow of its tower,
I can but throw aloft my gaze
And marvel at the power
The pine exudes, in solitude,
A majesty we praise.


Cellphone Blues

My Honey left me yesterday,
My hound dog’s fleas are back,
My rent is six month overdue,
And Mama’s hooked on crack.

My luck’s done run away from me,
Sure ain’t what I’s wishin’…
“N worst of all, I’m mighty blue,
My brand new cell phone’s missin’.

I’d like to call my Uncle Zeke,
He owes me twenty dollar,
But I ain’t got no phone ta use,
He lives too far ta holler.

If I had my cell phone back I’d
Call my buds for money,
I’d order Rex some scratchin’ stuff,
And talk to my sweet Honey.

But I think Mama sold my phone,
Yet I dare not accuse’er.
I mentioned it a while ago
And she yelled, “Shutup, loser!”

So I’ll jest have ta bite my tongue
‘N hope tomorrow’s kinder,
‘N keep a’lookin’ for my phone
‘N hope to God I find’er.


Don Shook wearing the many hats of actor, director, producer and author has award-winning scripts, television shows, and theatrical productions in his bag of credits. Formally with NBC in New York, he performed at Carnegie Hall in Tom Booth’s opera “Gentlemen In Waiting”,  announced on air for WNBC, and was part of “The Tonight Show” with Johnny Carson. He also taught music and drama at Texas A&M at Commerce, Duncanville High School, Temple Jr. College, Greenville Junior High and Brookhaven College in Dallas.  Mr. Shook has written five novels, four screenplays, an acting handbook and over a dozen teleplays and wrote, directed and produced three shows, in Branson, Missouri.  He has conducted Masters Acting Workshops for Stage West Theatre in Fort Worth and at The Granbury Opera Academy in Granbury, Texas. www.donshook.com/dshook3


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4 Responses

  1. J. Simon Harris

    I like all three of these. I’m from North Carolina, so I can definitely relate to them. My parents have had an ongoing battle with kudzu on their property for most of my life, ever since a stranger dumped a bunch of dirt there with kudzu in it. They never tried goats, but that’s a great solution.

    I like the fun, light tone of these. It goes very well with the jaunty rhythm and rhyme schemes. I also appreciate the dialect in the third poem. I wish more people would do dialect writing these days, but it seems like something a lot of writers shy away from for whatever reason.

    Anyway, very enjoyable poetry.

    J. Simon Harris

  2. Joseph S. Salemi

    “Cellphone Blues” is pure Tarheel. An early girlfriend of mine was from Raleigh, and “I jest larned it perfect fum her.”


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