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J.A. Kays Poem
Prepare the room and tidy the bed
Behold, the baby is coming soon
Hop to your feet and busy those hands
Behold, the baby is coming soon
A boy, a girl—which will it be?
Decorate, adorn accordingly
With blues or pinks and dolls or trucks
Things of value things that cost big bucks
Behold, the baby is coming soon
Long months within the mother’s womb
Behold, the baby is coming soon
Kick and move and grow and pester
Behold, the baby is coming soon
We wait to see your tiny form
Brought into the world wrapped and warm
And breathe your first tiny breath of air
Free of worry stress or even a care
Behold, the baby is coming soon
And may you be blessed by God in your years to come
In the trials you face and in all your endeavors
In the mistakes that you make and when you fall on your face
May you be blessed to be a blessing
Copyright © J.A. Kays | Year Posted 2011
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J.A. Kays Poem
She sits up high, up on the horse
And sweeps her hand along the coarse
White hide sticks to the hand of hers
Gently bounces, dressage, no spurs
Arches her back, her arms out straight
Trots along the length of the gate
Her body moves, one with the horse
Flow with the movement, with the force
Hair tosses, begin to canter
With grace she rides, grace rides with her
Hold back the reins, the horse he slows
And from their mouths, the breath it blows
Remove the saddle from his back
Carry it to the barn and stack
The warm horse-sweated saddle down
Tired smile, no room for frown
In that beautiful mouth yours
Like oceans crashing on the shores
And your eyes, they steal the sunset
Or the sunset, it stole your eyes
Copyright © J.A. Kays | Year Posted 2011
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J.A. Kays Poem
Out in the yard past the cherry trees
Over the graves of the grass we’ve cut
In the fading of the summer’s heat
We step out onto the field
Lining the trim, a brown barbed fence
And across, the piss-stained compost pile
The roses need pruning the cherries shriveled up
Their succulence
Mellow green apple buds are sprouting
The leaves are casting their ripened glow
And even some apples are strewn about the ground
Rotting from the outside in
Thanks to the fall from the wind
On this baseball field of ours
There are no bases no mound or a fence
Just the handle of an axe once used for chopping wood
And I’ll swing with my eyes wide open in sight
Watch the apple explode up into the sky
And the clouds have grown heavy with apple delight
So it rains down like shrapnel into the night
Copyright © J.A. Kays | Year Posted 2011
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J.A. Kays Poem
bring us heart
oh bring us laughter
from the sun that’s rising
to the moon in flight
and strum your song
among the buzzing bees
humming along the
sweet spring air
now there’s nothing that i wouldn’t dare
i won’t fade out with the blowing breeze
my mind is right
i am not compromising
i won’t look back till i’ve gone on after
this place where i must start
-j.a.kays
Copyright © J.A. Kays | Year Posted 2011
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J.A. Kays Poem
“I just started choppin’!” he said
Chopped so long his hands were bare
Split open, blistered like a cherry pie
It was the day after Auschwitz
So mad at the world, at the Nazi’s, at God
“So I’m just gonna chop!” he said
A swing and a CRACK!
A swing and a CRACK!
Splintering wood, chips fly in the air
The fourth of July, wood sparks everywhere
Like split open skulls, the logs laid bare
So filled up with steam, huff and puff
Till he’s flush in the face
But that axe keeps climbing
It’s way above his head and his shoulders
To rest a moment before it enters
The wooden fibers to split between
“D--- the world!”
and “D--- the Nazi’s!”
How could you let this happen?
How could you make this happen?
With your rooms filled of shoes and glasses and hair
And the buildings of luggage and flesh lamp skins
How could you let this happen?
How could you make this happen?
“I’m just gonna keep on choppin!
Till the cows come home!”
He said, “I’m just gonna keep on choppin’!
Forever and ever!”
“But sir,” I said,
“won’t you run out of wood?
And then you’ll end up like them.”
Copyright © J.A. Kays | Year Posted 2011
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J.A. Kays Poem
at a time like this
there are no words
just the feeling of the feeling
alive
in all its' beauty and terror
in all the awe and wonder
we find
ourselves
once again
perplexed
by the science of love
cowering
the concept of death
at a time like this
we are the words
the speech of a speechwriter's pen
written
in all its' truth and error
in all the breath and power
we find
ourselves
once again
moving
mountain masses by faith
yet cutting
our own brothers down
at a time like this
the words are here
in flesh, in blood, filled with spirit
breathing
in all its' passion and fire
in all its life and freedom
we find
ourselves
new in form
loving
the ones who feel no love
and gracing
the world through Your eyes
Copyright © J.A. Kays | Year Posted 2011
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