A new borns cry
Tearful last good bye
Swaying waves of golden prairie grass
Shifting desert dunes - an hour glass
An acorn dropping among forest leaves
To mighty oak - a lifetime of dreams
The changing moon - to full again
Each morn' the sun - new skies begin
Eagles soar high - our hearts go there
These ripples in time - we all share
The Farmer and his Corn
Snug and warm beneath the earth
The field awaits the coming birth
It holds the richness that they need
Provides the anchor for the seed
The farmer by his hand did sow
Soon he knows his seed will grow
When length of day and rain is right
And sun above shines warm and bright
The rain has come the soil is moist
New life burst forth, it has no choice
With a sudden wondrous surge
A field of green does emerge
The farmer feels it in the air
He comes to see his field so fair
Quietly, just after dawn
His brand new field of corn is born
Quickly grow those humble shoots
Drawing goodness through their roots
All hot and hazy summer long
The shoots thrust upward, straight and strong
Golden now as flaxen hair
New seeds upon them they do bear
The farmer picks an ear to eat
To check then that, his corn is sweet
The farmer comes to field one morn
Another with him that day drawn
No face had he and yet was grim
The corn all knew that it was him
A shrouded hood, his face to hide
He follows just two steps behind
The mice who’s nests the stalks had borne
Know soon there will be no more corn
Not daring now to take a peep
They know for them they’ve come to reap
Both the men they carried scythes
They know they’ve come to end their lives
The farmer lifts the implement
To cut them down is his intent
A shadow fell, with mighty stroke
The farmers gone, with man in cloak.
Sometimes within the walls of today
We simply search for another way
To make this day all it should be
I must learn to live eternally
A blessing given or one took
I live my life inside a book
Each new day is another page
I sit in the circle and burn my sage
Asking Grandfather to help me see
Exactly what a true man should be
With the blood of an Indian and of a white
Life is most certainly a spiritual fight
Half of me hates how the other half-lives
The white man took all the Indian gives
Then the white man decided to take some more
Slaughtered the Indians from shore to shore
Brought an end to a beautiful way of life
“We will kill the man and rape the wife”
They called us heathens but don’t you know
Was the white man that had a heathen’s soul
Half and half, the blood of a breed
Poisoned by a white mans seed
It’s my Indian half I love the most
My white half is turning into a ghost
Through my veins flows the blood of a brave
Though I lived my life as my white halves slave
Jesus Christ, nailed to the cross for me
Now my Indian half enjoys living free
Though freedom is a frame of mind
In the circle of life it’s truth I find
With each new poem I’m able to see
A little bit deeper up inside of me
Which enables my soul to truly live
Making my heart strong enough to give
All the faith that is found in a seed
I reckon half and half, is good breed
Posted in respects to James Fraser
They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I just won a prize
I replied, well I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise
When you have a past like mine
My today is always bright
There is no better feeling on earth
Than the joy of doing right
I may be an old man on a cane
My heart is skipping along
I learned to embrace the meaning
Life is a beautiful song
True life has its ups and downs
There’ll be forks in the road
With a smile I’ll stop for a while
Help you with your load
I had me a bag of popcorn today
It tasted exceptionally good
In fact, I will go as far as to say
Better then it probably should
For years, I had a guard in the pen
Popped him a bag each night
Then he would simply throw it away
His twisted little delight
He knew, it was those little things
Ate at our heart and soul
Movie with the wife Friday night
Popcorn in the bowl
I had a bag of popcorn today
Wife sitting at my side
I had a smile, which lasted awhile
One I could not hide
They ask me why I’m so happy
Asking me, if I won a prize
I replied, I reckon I did
Today is a wonderful surprise
For some reason today I was thinking about C.O. Talbert and
how he would pop a bag of popcorn even though he didn't eat
popcorn. He did it just because he knew it would make everyone
want some. I always felt sorry for him. His life must have been
very disappointing. The moral here: when you learn to appreciate
the little things in life your popcorn will taste a whole lot better.
I have a special story I wish to share
About a seamstress beautiful and fair
She would fade away turning into smoke
Of her amazing beauty, no man would joke
The spiraling smoke would then re-form
I know only an angels face could be so warm
Before her a beautiful quilt was spread
Upon it the story of my life was said
As she once again started to dissipate
She said, “Mike this quilt records your fate”
As the smoke traveled over to a new place
And then formed together creating her face
Looking over her shoulder back at me
She said, “This area will hold what has yet to be”
Most of the quilt looked like twisted evil tattoo
Simply because, my life’s quilt was quilted true
I looked the quilt over and then met her gaze
She was so beautiful in so many different ways
The last part of the quilt way over to the right
Showed the beauty of someone changing their plight
Upon her beautiful hand, which seemed so nimble
I noticed she was wearing my grandmother’s thimble
From a young maiden so beautiful to see
My grandmother appeared right in front of me
I guess up in heaven we return to our youth
My grandmother was beautiful; such is the truth
I thought of the price grandma was asked to pay
The shame of knowing I had turned out that way
I thought of her sitting there stitching my shame
My grandmother didn’t deserve an eternity of pain
She said, “Michael be still with the pain in your heart,
Your story encourages others to make a new start.”
“The deeper the wrong the stronger the right
I always knew my boy would take up the fight”
With a smile much brighter than an ice covered sea
She said, “I love the man my boy has grown up to be”
As she turned to the quilt and started to sew
She said, “Michael, its now time for you to go.”
“Believe in your story believe in your truth
For Salvation is the true fountain of youth”
One night in a dream, which I’ll hold forever divine
I learned; my Grandmother is now,” The Seamstress of Time”
When I was a boy I would help my Grandmother roll
her quilt, find her glasses, as well as, her thimble. I
never thought about how amazing her art truly was.
From a pile of rags she would make the most beautiful
quilt's. I sleep under one of her quilts to this very day.
When I said what I said I felt justified
I thought surely that God would be on my side
Quoting from scripture I relied on the word
A book filled with love that my heart somehow blurred
I picked up his gift, turned it into a stick
Not following God's lead I made my own pick
Instead I chose to read with encumbered mind
My eyes were wide open, still my soul was blind
Yet within his word my mind would be set free
I learned those other people were just like me
None of us perfect we all have our flaws
We all need acceptance we're not just some cause
Loving each person one moment at a time
When I am not judging, I witness them shine
Each person is perfect in their special way
Accepting like a child I learn how to play
We let down the top to soak in the sun
Now that the harshness of winter is done
As you let back the seat and put your feet on the dash
Saying, “keep your eyes on the road I don’t want to crash”
I truly must admit that I’m torn completely in two
The coast has its beauty, then again so do you
As the beauty of the Sun is absorbed by your skin
Like a kid at the candy store I simply want to dig in
If life is a candy store sweetheart you are the treat
All the other candy I tasted, never tasted so sweet
The reason I love summer is because of the heat
The skimpier the bikini, the greater the treat
I can’t begin to express how wonderful you are
Saying, “hey take a look at her I’ll steer the car”
At first I truly had no idea what I should say?
Though now it’s, “ok sweetheart, have it your way”
I think that is because you know these words are true
I may take look at her but I shall forever belong to you
Summer is a time that is as bright as the sun
Out goes the cold as it’s replaced by the fun
We have our barbecues and sit under the stars
Let down the tops and go for rides in our cars
Go tend to our gardens in farmer John clothes
Truly amazed at how fast everything grows
Go hang out at the river as well as the lake
Cover ourselves in oil than let our skin bake
Embrace the moments because these words are true
The days last much longer and the sky is so blue
The dog days of summer I reckon that’s so
We bark and howl at folk we don’t even know
If life is banquet then summer is the feast
I think we should gobble it up, to say the least
Written for john's Summer contest.
Self, behind the glass, seldom seen in shafts of sun
pondering life’s banalities, as from its gifts, you run.
Walking a tightrope across my inner self…
Dare to look down pass the pages from my shelf…
It tells the story of the mind that sits outside my soul…
Discolored and torn but the meaning still screams from what is whole…
Tiny scars stained by raindrops that never really dried…
Washed down my hand and caressed the tears I could never hide…
The journey left me crawling for my peace…
Onto a table beside a pen I sit and release…
We hold hands walking under the bright beam of God’s Moon Light,
And stop and kiss so intently in the soft cradle of the dark Moon Night.
The passion and rapture together we feel so on this cold black night,
Is reflected and majestically warmed by the touch of the Moon Light.
I look lovingly into your eyes on this quite special dark Moon Night,
Marveling at the love so reflected in your eyes by the Moon Light.
This is an enchanted sight to behold by All who love the Moon Light,
Reflecting the beauty and meaning while savoring all the Moon Night.
A deep Cosmic Blackness pervades the canvas of this great Moon Night,
While God’s grace and love pleasure us with a most bright Moon Light.
Almighty God in Heaven gently modulates the tone of this Moon Light,
Bringing constant wonder and glory to All on this most dark Moon Night.
My love and I now understand the mystical meaning of this Moon Light,
As we ponder and hold so special God’s emotion felt on this Moon Night.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(October 19, 2014) (Rhyme Couplet poetic format)
Have you ever been insane?
Lost inside your own pain
Just trying hard to figure out
What this life is really about?
There are voices up in my mind
Sometimes sanity is hard to find
Whenever I find myself all alone
I keep knocking but no ones home
I study the lines that cover my face
The jigsaw puzzle seems out of place
I don’t seem to know myself anymore
Seems my monkey took off with a whore
The only thing left sitting here is me
And my one-day at a time sobriety
When it all starts breaking down
I am just a ghost inside a clown
But I reckon that too will be ok
Long as I remember how to pray
Thoughts that thrive on scattered dreams
shoot through the mind like laser beams
Hunger echoes a hollow song
Voices merge, intestines long
Lips are dry, and tongues are parched
Memories are pressed and starched
No miming board can take the heat
Hot irons that scorch the hands and feet.
Cold days flow into brackish nights
on borrowed hopes and collared pride
Answers wrapped in braided woes
Crushed, then scattered by angry toes
Worry stalks in cleated shoes
It leaves a track of pallid blue
Just when it seems to reach the rise
It folds then doubles up in size.
I was a bright, outgoing boy, who sat at the front of the class.
Then, one day that all changed, i feared to even raise my hand for a pass.
I had many close friends, loved sports and school plays.
Then on that day fear beset me, and long gone were those days.
I remember my school, i knew it inside and out.
But now i have blank spots, certain things i've shut out.
Thanks to God and His mercy, i don't recall that foul act.
But i know that it happened, no doubt, that's a fact.
Now, to the person who did this, i have nothing to say.
But, my God will remember, and He'll get you someday!
The beauty of life, which is often unseen
I guess each of us has some sort dream
Intertwined with our ambitions and hope
Sometimes it seems so impossible to cope
Some days are blessed others are cursed
Life; unlike a play, we don’t get to rehearse
With diligent effort we rise up to the top
Refusing to slow down let-a-long stop
Top of the mountain offers a beautiful view
A place to reflect on how dreams come true
I’ve thought it all over and I believe it is true
My dreams are mine and yours belong to you
We have our own path with rivers to cross
We cherish the gain and we regret the loss
Each one of us has our tools, which we use
The right to decide how we walk in our shoes
There will always be those who criticize and judge
Always be someone who holds some sort of grudge
Misery Loves Company is the saying they tell
No one wants to lonely especially sitting in hell
Its best not to believe in good and bad luck
Accept responsibility and not pass the buck
Reach the point where there’s nothing left to hide
That’s when you find yourself beaming with pride
I never look at another to judge my own wealth
I never judge another as hard as I judge myself
Life is a journey, which has a beginning and end
Each life has its own special meaning to send
If I die today, the story I hope my life has told
I measured my success through my heart of gold
I guess some questions are hard to define
Like the desert landscape I’ve changed with time
I’ve spent my life dealing with a monkey
A dope cook, convict, a worthless junkie
A prison gang member, nothing to lose
Then one day I stepped out of those shoes
Decided to change whatever the cost
Prove in this life, hope is never lost
42-years of living the wrong way
I turned to the Lord and gave it away
I am old and gray with wisdom for truth
I hope that I can enlighten the youth
I serve Jesus Christ for he is my Lord
Picked up my Bible and laid down my sword
I’m a student who truly loves to learn
I reckon in this life, I’ve earned my turn
I’m a man who truly adores my wife
Guiding my kids through the trials of life
A born again christen able to see
A poet’s heart is bubbling in me
Everything a man could be in this life
Serving my Lord in honor of my wife
A man who made use of all his regret
I’m the morning sunrise, evening sunset
Way before the sunrise is when I start my day
I offer thankfulness in the prayer that I pray
I do love the morning with its beautiful sunrise
Especially when reflecting off clouds in the sky
My life is a journey with my soul as the guide
What makes it beautiful is my wife at my side
My children are my strength; encouraging me
I make sure that everyday is truly all it can be
My friends are many though old-friends are few
For I no longer agree with the things that they do
I still hold them all in my prayers and my heart
Nothing in this life could ever pry them apart
So what is the story the meaning of this rhyme?
The blessing is there if we just follow the sign
To accept the blessings the place we must start
Just be as a child and look through your heart
Be as a child; cherish every one of your dreams
If you wish to feed the river than become a stream
Everything will happen in its own time and place
You will truly find peace once you’ve found grace
Since love is the place where we all need to start
Remember, be kind and gentle to your own heart
One day, “Old Saint Peter,” will open up the gate
There is nothing to fear for heaven will be great
Here further down the hillside slope
Down close to the creek with hope
My husband bought a house, land
Fenced in and made many plans
Subdued the land to cow pasture
And planted a garden, fruit trees sure
Fathered another child to call him sir
The creek seemed to like the stir
Enjoyed the children for a little while___
Loved them so that it made her smile
Today she loves grandchildren the same
No girls there are in frills ___tame
The creek keeps on flowing to the sea
The land is mostly stripped of trees
(This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace". I hope that it does not insult
One Toy Soldier
Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from their home to die in the fray.
Little toy weapons are no longer there
But boxed in attics by mothers with care--
Where keepsakes still hold a lock of his hair--
While rockets and missles challenge his fare.
Little toy bad guys and little toy good
Haze in the distance when misunderstood.
Where fall the lilies on long crates of wood
And each gave their all--as good soldiers should...
Little toy soldiers are coming back home...
Mothers are weeping, laments all alone
Where flags lie folded--the gift of Shalom...
As the long box is lowered...'neath the loam
One little toy soldier is placed on the top
Remembering All--so that None be Forgot.
As I Lay Down to Sleep
As I lay down and pray
I think of all the good things that happened today
Not a day goes by that I try to do my best
I want to please the lord above all the rest
Wonder if this is my last night
Morning comes and I will not see the morning light
Could only hope that I did all the right things
Left my family in order before I see my KING
We never know the place or the time
Before our saviour calls us home, could be the last rhyme
Guess its only human to think about death
But oh well have to get some sleep, take a deep breath
Written by: Debra Falgout
October 2, 2012
The universe of fear emotes a broken feeling,
loveless wastelands could hardly be called home.
Conscious rising dreamscapes, illusory revealing:
the terrified emperor sits naked on his throne.
Such precious time agonizing on his pain,
he can't receive what he refused to give.
With all his pasts and futures preordained,
in timeless boundless love God wills he lives.
In moments when the twilight sparks
To gently flare as dark embarks,
Tender comes eve swinging a hum
While air-brushed clouds, on flight, succumb.
Yet, through the lull of sky, I hear
Their voices billow quite unclear
Whispering mildly, still I know
Those refrains from seasons ago.
Somehow, before the call of morn
When foggy mist glides on hawthorns,
And daybreak hails a new sunset
I trace past journeys now at rest.
Amidst the quiver of my dreams,
Beloved voices float midstream
On to pathways that bless each name;
Marked deeply in my soul, aflame.
Andrea Dietrich's Let's Get Technical Contest
I shivered and watched him as the snow fell
Frail, tattered clothes, bearded, no shoes, but--smell!
I thought--what a contrast--comparing sights,
But love was a lesson I'd learn that night!
Not from plastic steeples or rhetoric,
Philanthropy or emotional trick...
I would learn to look in my own mirror
For compassion, mercy, empathy--clearer.
This complex multiple of nature lives
In dying daily to Ego-------Forgives!
Then I saw neither black, white, red nor green,
But only insolence and heard him scream:
"Get away from us! You Freak! Reprobate!"
Then with his cane, knocked him down--oh such hate!
Top hat and tails perched with pride by the door
Assisting the dilatant he adored.
Snow was a gossamer curtain all 'round.
Vision obscured even steps on the ground.
Lights came from nowhere as they crossed the street,
Aimed for the dilatant--innocent, sweet.
Watching I saw from the shadows immerge
Sprinting like 'Coldstream Guard'--out past the curb,
That same man, pushing the dilatant fair
Out of harms way as he flew in mid-air.
Emerging unscathed from the ice and snow:
"Who was that man? Tell me! I want to know!"
The crowd huddled 'round like a football team
Gawking with questions of what they had seen.
A donor card was his only ID.
No name--just a wish--was all they could see.
Donor card cashed in...Science and query...
A grave in an obscure cemetery,
With small unadorned head-marker amends:
"Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."
*For Michael's "No Names on This Love Contest"
At night rapscallions in my head
Refuse the coal that scorches dread
And peace, however light the touch
Calms the seas where dragons rush
The crescent moon, my dreams aglow
With love so pure, pearl ivy grows
Hurried heart that once sought fame
Must kindle hope nee shatter shame
Above the sky where Angels dwell
My pealing bark in prayer reveals
A moment filled with His relief
When light grows dim
© All Rights Reserved
I'm driving on a road that pours into the sky...
The scenery I can almost touch like paper blowing by...
Your smile is there in the corner of my eye...
It's your hand I feel under mine as my fingers hold a cry...
My head rocks back to a chill of being alone..
With the window cracked open the air drops like stones...
The rearview mirror reflects all that's not seen...
A man touched by life over and over and still doesn't bleed...
The clock on the dash never seems to move or trip...
I squint into the past and see a soul that was bruised and stripped...
And blink into today and the road I drove and walked...
But always remembering the place where I sat but never talked...
Temptation to fall came knocking thrice strong
Remembering how we crossed the lines, so wrong
Because you were the fallen side of me,
A raven angel of venial sins lurking on damned sea
Treading on broken glass intoxicated by glitters
Of exciting dangers as call of the wild littered;
Our minds seduced by sly games uncontrolled
Feeding insatiable urges more than life could behold,
Until I collapsed, succumbing to black heat
Charred , burned from slits of fevered beat.
Then , a glint of light where reborn eyes pranced
Are where hopes begged for a winged chance,
My spine bent to a shape deeply shaded white
As if to say, damn! Put your act together and do it right;
While from afar, *Angels descending, bring from above,
Chiming blurred *echoes of mercy, whispers of love*
And in that moment, the raven part of me led to slaughter
Tipping my choices to bathe on cleansed waters
…….. .. . . . .. .
To Hell and Back for PD's Contest
By: nette onclaud