Life is often fleeting. You hold it in your hand.
It slips right through your fingers just like so much sand.
And the harder that you grasp it the quicker that it goes
And what it all amounts to no one really knows.
I once saw a picture of a child in the sun.
Laughter there upon the lips, eyes so filled with fun.
I once saw a picture of a mother’s painful tears.
Live your life in moments, don’t worry about the years.
I once heard a story. A lesson to be learned.
Someone set a fire and everything was burned.
And there, beneath the ashes was a diamond wrapped in gold.
Though everything must perish, love will not grow old.
I remember when I knew you as a friend.
And now it all is gone but not forgotten.
So sorry Charlie, that your gone, my heart tells me you are even stronger now, like the force of light you are shining bright in our heart and mind.
That you are now part of the bigger force of God, that moves all around like the sun and moon.
That your life was so well done, that God chose you to come home, he put his arms around you and said Well done Charlie.
Your life was so amazing, you inspired so many for God, you gave love and kindness to all.
We love and miss you so much, we are praying for all your loved ones.
I am remembering Jesus’s life and how short it was, yet today we remember him so well, like Jesus we will never forget you, we will honor all of your life’s works.
Many hated Jesus and killed him, but he lives on, making a path for all of us to follow home. Charlie you did the same, you light a path that is so bright all the world can see the light.
Death is not the end, as Jesus told us, it is only the beginning of our true life. Charlie you light a path for all the world, and today and forever we will hold all your words close to our heart.
Lifting Prayers to God, today and always.
The Black Sea of Hostility**
I express no willingness to engage in the metaphorical black sea of hostility. It is a misconception to believe that individuals are born with fractured souls; rather, such conditions develop throughout one’s life.
One enters this world devoid of sin, possessing innate virtues and qualities. However, I am not inclined to accept an invitation to your table, where the tablecloth is whiter than the pristine blanket of snow on Monsanto Lake. I will not participate in such gatherings.
Your opulent Gorham silverware glimmers, reminiscent of clusters of grapes hanging from a mountain. Nevertheless, I remain disinterested in both swimming in this sea or dining at a table rooted in animosity.
The children raised in this environment are instructed to disdain the clergy. Meanwhile, violence stains the streets of northern communities as politicians indulge in lavish dinners costing $2,000 per plate. One must question who is safeguarding the gates of moral decay.
The realm of politics is indeed tumultuous.
Heard some twaddle ten days ago? some TWOTS with microphones giving it a go.'
Got some SCAZNA waddling in the hills.' 'Johns' Questioning the locals..By order of the shills.' I think there are snipers ? I wonder
Are there some, who gunned down our Koalas; 800 was it the sum.? Geez what a heap of trouble from twenty twenty on.'
Where has my 'easy going homeland gone?' Hey why not give the hunters shovels and picks? so they can dig the final grave
For vic-pol.. Away up there in the sticks.'
Wagon John was not just another old cowpoke.
In conversation I heeded most words he spoke.
a wagon his home,
wherever he’d roam.
He died alone on the trail without any kinfolk.
Fallen leaves knuckled
below eddies float again
swiftly shimmering.
Rain withers with gray
asphalt rising. Curbs cement
puddles running still.
Sunlit raindrops stop
hissing at guttural moans
tickling us for laughs.
In this lifetime she is a mutt,
Small, Scrappy, sleepy, sweet,
Blinking eyes and gnawing teeth,
I'd know her in every lifetime,
In the one before she was tall,
Aching legs and honeycomb eyes,
Dutifully beautiful, kind, loyal,
A shadow with a wagging tail,
Before that she was white as snow,
Playful, pitiful, pretty, pale,
Sitting on the carpet awaiting my dad,
as I played with her ear and paw,
I didn't meet the one before,
I'm told she was quick, smart,
Like a pistol shot, a starting gun,
rescued, for a good life somewhere new.
I hope, when this lifetime is over,
I will meet each version of her,
Maisie, Lucy, Suki, Bonnie,
And we'll venture into the next one.
Grief is a beast with weary eyes
Waiting on a chord unfinished—
The tinny purr—
A waving growl of tambourine,
Death’s rattle sounds the closing bars,
That dissonant finale.
Crest on crest the ocean marches,
Leave forever in their wake,
Repeating patterns, variations,
Enigmas do their shadows make.
Dawn’s dunes of drought, by dusk
Drowned out by moon’s dictates,
Rhythm of the days; advance—
Recede, advance — avast!
But naught to cease, eternal orbit,
The silver body leaves,
New treasures in the dune lands,
Awash with tracks of feet,
Impervious to changing shore,
Where land and water meet.
Grief is a beast with weary eyes,
Packed down on pilgrim’s road,
To the modest nettled tomb,
Where dust to dust are sunken bones.
Your grave will grow no younger,
Unlike you, ever older.
So, rise up the soul, distilled delight,
Your grave will grow no younger—
Condense to something less,
Unlike you, ever older—
Alight as crystals on our walls,
Deign to our quiet burdens bless.
Fell to my knees, broken that day
Couldn't believe you'd been taken.
Cut down in your prime by Evil.
Blood. Bullets were not meant for you.
The Devil flashed a smile in court.
Your family grieved in silence;
Screaming inside, "You murderer!"
Karma will have her way with you.
*Oxymoron Poetry Contest
*Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
*Entered on: 08/31/2025
KISSES...From the UNITED STATES...of HATE!
Only Some are Welcome...Don't get SORE!
We BRAG! and We Wave our FLAG!,
But...WE..Forgot What ..IT!...STOOD FOR!
The LAND of the FREE? The HOME of the BRAVE?
But...the List is short ..Who They Choose to SAVE!
We ALL...Break our BACKS!...For LOVE of COUNTRY!
YOU...GERRYMANDER...And RIG our COUNTY!
YOU...Prey on Our ANGST!, YOU...Prey on Our RAGE!
YOU...Put US in LINES...That's Wrapped in a CAGE!
WE...whimper and wilt÷...Just like a whipped pup...
YOU...Rake in the CA$H...and Divvy It UP^
IMMIGRANTS have COME...IMMIGRANTS have TRIED!
IMMIGRANTS have BLED...IMMIGRANTS have DIED!
But, Lest YE Forget...WE just Thought YE KNEW!
YOU ARE A PRODUCT...OF IMMIGRANTS TOO!!!
I saw American maiden with the choky breath
Panting sideways with the teary face .
I recently listned the siren of ambulance
And family sobs and I went past to her
Unfortunately, the ambulance left
It was a painful tragedy
Which made kins cried
I was anxious and tensed
When friends rosed questions about why
I could be rather be speechless
Eventhough I was questioned by my college mates
Which was unspoken incident which made
me numbed and fearful
it resulted in trauma and flashbacks
This is a painful tragedy
I could nt resist why
When I listened the wailing voices then
It made me cry
I could not forget the girl that
Was in my mind
It's always the ones
Who lives their lives
Talking on no responsibility
And not a care in the world
Not even helping with parents
They don't care but the
Minute a parent or loved one
Dies, they'll show up
Demanding or thinking that
They're owe or entitled to something
When they haven't help or
Done anything at all for that parent
Spouting how it was their parents
To, but they knew that all along
But didn't want to help with
The responsibilities, didn't lift
A finger, but demands something
But don't worry whatever they get
It won't last with them because
Those spirits know who deserves nothing
Shut the door to the purple and bruised
in the dark like an old dog and a bone
refuses the water too and a stew.
cooked to be so deliciously....
but her old bones are given
and stubborn of weakness,
I just need you to drink
and to eat something...
There's another of black of visions
I can hear the ravens and the pigeons,
after the flooring of my subtle empathy
and an old friend loses her grips
as that damn kitchen sink drips
I can't go with them to the Vets
as you are and will be everything.
I protected my little girl
its down, in so much hell,
when it pelts so much hail
and a dummy for sale,
that I refuse with......
a shore with a dead whale
of a protagonist...
and how I feel I failed
with a reality of no twisted,
just random of lists flicked
and I'm alone in Oblivion.
(June 5, 1981 - March 22, 2009)
Happy is your grave nobody can take.
Only few probably at home can make.
March 22, 2009
Somewhere over the mountain, hidden away,
There’s a land that is calling; I must not delay.
Somewhere over the mountain, that’s where she’ll be,
In the alpenglow, Mary's waiting for me.
They said I'd never recover from my stroke
A nightmare from which I never woke
A big chunk of me gone, a lower plateau
But I left the home, and off I did go.
It's our lot to grow old, not due to our sins
Trails go cold and entropy wins
But I'll boat down the waterfall where snowmelt flows,
I’ll find Mary in the place that nobody knows.
The terrain is forbidding, the ridge like a knife
Can't undo time, can't crash the afterlife
No country for old men, no breaking the rule
But I have to attempt, to give up is so cruel
Somewhere over the mountain, I wish it were so,
Mary is singing where wildflowers grow.
The starling will guide me, the meteor will show
The path to the valley where lost rivers go.
I went over the mountain, then took a fall
a thousand foot down off a sheer valley wall.
They buried my story, because no one must know.
They say I died then, but I died long ago.
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