I'm thinking about pumpkin seeds today.
How they survive the deep-deep freeze.
I think about them treading cautiously.
Beneath the pond's pretty white veil of death.
Is it endless suffering waiting for the first fleck of spring?
I really should be thinking of the homeless instead.
Handing out warm blankets, a warm gaze, a warm drink.
Shielding them from God's blue fingertips.
But instead, I can think only of pumpkin seeds.
They say we need their help.
They come in their numbers
preaching salvation,
while their own people sell their souls,
for the hope to keep living.
They offer hugs we receive with arms wide open,
and their fingers, long enough, pick from our pockets.
They take our people and our land
and are angered when we fight back.
They create the beginnings of our problems,
planting disaccord and distrust among us
as if they were seeds.
They stab us in the back
and put pressure on the wound
as if they were being helpful.
Now they come to my country,
taking pictures of the unfortunate
and handing out sweets we did not ask for.
And they bring along laws that speak of a peace,
we once knew in their absence.
Let's be real
I'm the deal
the big dog
handing out slapdowns
I'm on a crackdown
I'm taking out the trash
I'm a digital jokers ass
cope harder!
reality is not your father
your ego is a disaster
wasting your time!
arguing online!
so here's a witty rejoinder!
you smell, smelly smell
you smell, smelly, smell
you smell, smelly
nothing they say will convince me
nothing they do will thrill me
pushing their agenda on me loud
but here I stand, proud
I'm here every day
I'll never go away
Argued with a tag
Lost my rag
why can't you be constructive?
while I am so productive
feeding your ego each day
while I slave away
chained to my keyboard
with nothing to say
They come to our door dressed as witches…as princesses…
as wizards, as ghosts and goblins too…
As pirates, as cowgirls, as ladybugs…
as warriors who know karate or kung-fu.
“Trick-or-treat!” They say…
as through the night their numbers increase.
They look into our bowl of candy and ask,
“Please, may I have a piece?”
We gladly hand a piece to every baby
every child…every teen…
and when they say, “Thank you!”
we all smile and say, “Happy Halloween!”
For one night the troubles we face in this world are forgotten…
because with every girl and boy…
under the costume…behind the masks
we see the innocent faces of peace and love and joy.
At the end of the evening we gaze into our bowl
that through the night by the children has been picked clean….
And I always wish handing out peace in the world
was as easy as handing out a piece of candy on Halloween.
I also make a second wish
once and all the monsters, ghosts and goblins have been fed:
I wish that while filling their bags with another piece of candy
we could assure them of a life filled with peace ahead.
V.
It used to be understood that
people were pretty safe,
that our streets and our neighborhoods
weren’t a dangerous place,
that you could let your kids go out
and they’d come back alive,
that we had good law enforcement,
security to thrive.
But now they coddle criminals,
help them get out early,
our cities have become failed states
of crime, drugs, and feces.
Worse yet is they’re importing them,
illegals in cruel gangs,
handing out money to the thugs
who probably should hang.
It seems a week doesn’t go by
we don’t see migrant crime,
people murdered and women raped,
it happens all the time.
Whole apartments taken over,
the tenants extorted,
by people your leaders let in
so they could get ahead,
all of it just to rig the vote
so they alone can win,
no problem with condemning you
to a future quite grim.
Your life has no meaning to them,
they’ll gladly leave you screwed,
see the evil and don’t forget
what was taken from you.
Time to tour the best Christmas-decorated places in town
With a map in hand of all the beautifully lit-up houses to be found
Despite the amount of time to set up and to take down the people have given us a wonderful gift for all of us to enjoy
Whole streets have banded together to create a visual spectrum of flashing lights and creative characters that bring smiles to all the girls and boys
Carollers can be seen going door to door singing songs full of joy
On the rooftops, Santa and his reindeer seem to be in control of the night, ready to deploy
As if like magic the clouds open up sending a burst of snow floating down
Soon the lawns will have a blanket of snow without so much as making a sound
In the living rooms, trees with their colorful attire show off to the people walking by
A large crowd has gathered at the end of the block, jolly old Saint Nick handing out candy canes and looking spry
Christmas may come once a year but joy and happiness need to be spread every day
As you walk by a neighbor who has decorated his place a special thanks should surely come his way
Take a church full of sinners with issues galore,
each needing profoundly the grace of the Lord.
Some trapped in addiction, some weighed down in sin,
some struggling with faith, some who tried but gave in.
Some filled with anger and some with regret,
some who cannot forgive, but there’s one group I fret -
the judgmental crowd. They make it so tough,
thinking they have no sin or that they’re good enough.
And I wish that were all but it’s not for I find,
they poison the whole for they’re willfully blind.
Doing all that they must to protect the charade,
ranking sins amongst others and handing out shame.
Handcrafting a culture that turns out to be,
in direct opposition to what sinners need.
A place to be open, a place to confess,
a place to find comfort, a place to find rest.
A place to find Christ and the healing He gives.
A place to start over, but somehow this lives
in the culture of church after church I observe.
I guess human nature just can’t be deterred.
For it seems to be common despite where I go -
the part poisons all, no one stops it and so
the judgmental crowd wins and history repeats
where they end up the only ones… left in the seats.
We do not see Jesus on a float,
in the big Thanksgiving Day parade.
Nor in a shopping mall handing out,
cheap Toys that child laborers have made.
You don’t see giant Jesus blow ups,
bobbing around out on people’s lawn.
He’s not parked in his sleigh upon the roof,
with a hundred bright flashing lights on.
They don’t sell you Jesus door knockers,
napkin holders or pepper shakers.
He does not drink Coke with polar bears,
or pose with kids for picture takers.
Was pretty easy to figure out,
why kids like Santa more than Jesus.
Because his advertisement firm has learned,
instant satisfaction will please us.
What four-year old kid will want to wait,
‘til he dies to go to paradise.
They just want to open their present,
and eating cookies for breakfast might be nice.
If Jesus wants to be a big hit,
he will need to go on to TV.
Ride a unicycle down Main street,
while shouting out Ho! Ho! Ho! with glee.
handing out candy
plastic wrapped could be a treat
or hidden toy trick
The End of Tomorrow
When you sit alone in your room, enjoying your solitude and someone tells you, this is the time of your life, the trivial will say you can sleep til ten, in the morning if you want to and you think, why not forever
You know there is no afterlife, you knew that when nine years old Santa Claus, was the woman next door
in drag, handing out gifts, paid for by your mother.
When the doorbell chimes and a Christian sadist makes it clear you must believe in Jesus because you are old and can die, any moment now.
When you listen to the soft breaths of the one you love
and hope you will die first because you can't handle
the practical side of life.
Then there is the notion there are two of you, if one dies the soul takes abode somewhere else, in a beautiful garden perhaps, and waits to be a soul for someone else.
Think if you had a choice, to be the soul of a donkey in Sudan for all time, carrying the meager belongings of someone fleeing the endless wars.
The conclusion must be if you are still of sound mind
death has some merits after all.
The harsh pains of terrible toothache
No human nor humanoid can fake.
The "oh!" are real, the "Ah!" and "Jeesus!,"
Caries of the Bad Tooth for scissors!
Sufferer's cheeks feel the agony;
Puffed up in pursuit of harmony:
So also the eyes above: quite scared,
For the bad much the teeth have been dared.
Sympathizers say "Avoid sugar."
I, Hindhu, who can't shun our Yoga."
Now, cries seller of its drug "No...No,
Extraction quite wrong: more shall go!"
Men by no means licensed Dentists:
Are they handing out truths or their twists?
One thing is sure: Dentists don't like them
And long had learnt to call one problem
"If you're ready for quick extraction
The Dental service, no distraction."
When are you far right.? If for peace you call'
Where is far left..? Right now it takes my breath.'
Can't some democrats be Christian.? Who decides
On what, is what.? Like even stevens..We don"t hear
About him now, a playground adage he helped somehow?
Make it clear' yet along with kids not climbing trees, the offence of dirt
And fresh skinned knees, the label placers run amok
Handing out words the keep as stock' I see politicans
Austrian too..left the building, did Elvis get a view.? he had
His faults from what I hear.? Yet his passion for the U S
I beleive was clear.' Austrians can be the same.' Their land
Has vowed 'kein kreig' being as hitler is their shame.! And so
zelensky's session they left.. peace markers standing mute
Upon their desks.! What say you.? What do you think.?
Poets peers whats in your ink.? Wtite me something the
World is bleeding.' People are straving children dreaming
Of food of love a place thats safe.' Am i misleading? Yet war is raging in your
Face.' overtly peaceful institutions toil; to divide and
Conquer attain the land;? divide the spoils.' Their time is short
Their influence bought, the progress they offer is value naught.!
You think this is quaint, a case of the blues
A handkerchief for a dainty cheek
But I want to howl, I want to shriek
I want to tear the world in two
As you safely stand
In your well-dressed land
Handing out ornate soliloquies
Like pennies
yet neglecting to understand
The poverty of agony
While my dark demeanor
is dismissed
I will burn buildings
If you insist
On painting glitter
over rage
On labeling my pain
a phase
An inconvenient rite, a blight
On your ladylike
well-mannered path
My wrists bleeding
As you correct my math
My words are not petty, not obscene
I am not a robot, not a machine
To defuse, deprogram or debug
Or merely lock away and shrug
In your placid belief
that compliance is peace
What is prison for
If not release?
When I am tumbling through
Unstable skies
And need a roof
To calm my eyes
Bring me more than
A structured reply
Just sit with me
And ask me why
6/24/22
No matter how silly you think it is
Tell us your favourite dream
There's nothing that can surprise us
Heard lots of tales and schemes!
How about one where you're flying
Surveying the country below
Maybe you're ruler of a distant land
With a magic wand that glows!
Or what if you could be the captain
Of a great ocean going liner
A clown in a colourful marching parade
Could there be anything finer?
Bet you haven't thought of this one
A drummer in a rock 'n roll band
Or how about a pitcher for the Yankees
A lifeguard all muscled and tanned!
Have you ever wished you were Santa
Handing out Christmas prizes
Or an opera singer like Pavarotti
A super hero with many disguises!
I guess all of this just goes to prove
No matter how hard you scheme
It's best to be just the person you are
After all, dreams are only dreams!
17 Miles From the Nearest Town
David J Walker
Circles of crop row quilts
Displayed from the air
The flair of a County Fair
Handing out
Blue ribbons
everywhere
Cotton lint fills the air
with Fall
It was all
we would know
For sure in
A Universe of its own making
Growing
Watering holes
In a burning land
Of gas station taverns and
Brass rows of drop-off
post office box tops
From a distance you may hear
The bellowing calf
Calling for its mother
Or the wheels of an 18-wheeler
Overloaded on the Farm to Market road
Or the sound of the spigot on the
Center pivot irrigation well
All is well
17 miles from the nearest
Town
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