breathless hush
Beyond dreams
with candlelight burns
Lives cross lives idling
Beyond souls emptiness'
piano speaks
'It's all in one mind'
the trees listening
for they are one
with the universe
Eyes smell flowers and become them
There's a deathless hush tonight
tidal wave sweeps in
breathes and sinks all lights lit
Mormon tabernacles washed away like barnacles
Coyotes are confounded & swim nowhere
An orchestra keeps on playing Handel's Water Music
Horns fill with water float away like lovers horizontal
Loop becomes a rollercoaster
like water glasses mixed with Buddhist brine
watered down beer topped with sea foam
Beau Fleuve suddenly become salt
buried masts of Amsterdam arise
the great wave sweeps
to wash away over-age Camembert
steaming in sea-vines
the washed land awakes again to wilderness
the only sound a vast thrumming of crickets
a cry of seabirds high over
and Indians reclaim their canoes
(Blackout of Wild Dreams Of A New Beginning
By Lawrence Ferlinghetti)
I was driving a station wagon, Dad on my right
Mom, young kids, and dog in back seat
Construction ahead, a warning light
In my mind I keep the scene on repeat
I saw the truck in my rearview mirror
It was going fast, I was going slow
I couldn't accelerate as it got nearer
It climbed on our wagon, in Idaho.
It forced the rear of the car into asphalt
The rear doors sealed, but the dog did a vault
Mom lifted the kids over, seared her skin
Moved sideways and a flame shot up where she'd been.
We all made it out, and Mormons took us in
Kids made Mormon friends, and we regrouped
Took an airplane the rest of the way to the coast
Not a story of which I can boast.
Dad's summer teaching had to cover the cost
But we won something, not just lost
We found strength and friendship where we didn't expect
From people whose kindness I'll never forget.
Now every flashing warning light
Takes me back to that July.
A rearview mirror, one long breath,
The line between life and death.
Besides the Mormons, I also thank fate
Death has to come, but death had to wait.
Big, Bold and Sleek
Greyhound Bus
Bus honor
City to City, Town to Town
Observation upon observation
Remembering viewing the Rocky Mountains
Standing tall and proud
Totally Majestic
Being greeted by an Arizona Indian wave
Sitting on a white horse in red and white attire overlooking the overpass
Sight before eyes seeing the Mormon Tabernacle Church in Salt Lake City, Utah
Open Roads, Steep hills and endless mountains
Experienced a young pregnant Woman on the bus go into labor in the state of Nevada
What was supposed to be a 30 Minute Rest Stop turned into 2 hours
Our Greyhound Driver timed the young woman’s labor contractions
A major hospital happened to be across from where we stopped, and their medical team carried the young woman off the bus on a stretcher
Everyone on the bus felt like family as they looked out for one another
Travel for me on Greyhound was always an adventure
North, South, East and West
America and I are acquainted
The spirit and merit
Up close and personal
Through the watch of time
Greyhound bus base
Never any time to waste
Greyhound bus travel
Into the sunset of my mind treasure chest
Hound dog
The ride
The experience.
An old trail hand came upon a man,
His wagon was stuck in the mud.
He asked the man if he needed a hand,
He said thanks, my name's Delmar Crudd.
Well hello Crudd, I'm Benjamin Fudd,
I'm just your common Buckaroo.
I'll help you Crudd get out of the mud,
But you'll have to feed me when I do.
That sounds like a plan you old trail hand,
I'll take all the help I can get.
Once out of the mud I'll feed you Fudd,
We'll eat as soon as the table is set.
With a push and shove and help from above,
Crudds wagon was finally free.
Once the table was set, Fudd finally ett;
And rode off to the West towards the sea.
Then on the next day and well on his way,
Fudd came across a man with three wives.
Shared his water with wives, sons, and daughter,
The man said thanks, you just saved our lives.
We'd like to feed you and if you need to,
You can dally with one of my wives.
Said I'm a Mormon, named Edgar Norman,
I live by making and sharpening knives.
After he fed, Eds wife joined him in bed,
Oh what a night for Benjamin Fudd!
You can make a bet, he'll never forget,
Fudd was fed better by Ed than by Crudd.
When a Soup poet went fishin'
His wife sat at home just wishin'
He caugh a fish
She got her wish
Two Mormon lads on a mission . . . .
There is a war of rage being waged.
I want to run into the heat I feel,
And fight to save global souls,
Not ease into the frost surreal.
I hear my commander’s voice,
Calling me out to come and see,
This echo cries for unending peace,
Never settling for inhumanity.
I behold the gauntlet of the clash,
And stand up to the vision I see.
This is why we came at last,
In the revolutions of eternity.
I reach out to gather others in,
Taking stock in preparation to go.
We wave our freedom banners in the wind,
“Attack!” is our manifesto.
We are the marked generation,
Fighting for family preservation.
Our hearts bear with ultimate victory,
The work shouldered in exultant delivery!
We are the soldiers of this hour,
And workers of Christ’s power.
Building upon our watchtowers,
We righteously make the Kingdom ours.
Go and read this manifesto,
It will make you a true hero.
It is a holy ancient record written,
Entitled, “The Book of Mormon.”
A Mormon in search of his god
Took an hike where the Saints had trod
When he went lame
The angels came
Preaching, "Nike shoes are for Nod!"
The chapel, with wood lined walls, honey coloured
gleams in the light of candles and lanterns.
Ever smiling elders younger than most.
With sharp suits and sharper smiles
bow us to our seats.
The groom, in hired clothing .
Waits
The bishop nods, and strange eyes burn behind pebble glasses.
The organist plays unknown music.
Changing to Pachabel's canon in D when a rustle of silk annonces the bride.
Strange words and rites drift around this place,
and I wonder why I am with these unknown people of God.
My friend turns, and with his bride moves down the aisle.
He smiles at me when he passes,
and in his delight all strangeness leaves
A pub that's typically Welsh
Has music the English can't squelch
Hymns and arias rule
But, like any gene pool,
The loudest is always a belch!
A Mormon with two lovely wives
Discovered they both had sharp knives
Somewhat chatty
Both were catty
But he, alas, did not have nine lives!
A Mormon sent on a mission
To see where Jesus was fishin'
Found love - or hate -
The perfect bait
For men in every condition
ead of Reverend should it be Father. That is what everyone else is called.
Uncanny Priest Depiction Picture Contest
This should be your first Church Poetry Contest.
Write a poem that depicts what you are thinking
in your picture.
Saw face and wondered what Priest was thinking;
What we found is probably around he was dinking;
Wondering about what next really prefers to write;
Is certain to invite us to church with much delight.
Would arrive at conclusion about what we do need,
Must prepare profound poem for our parish to read;
Obviously Priest possessed a pleasant expression,
And did know was not example of deep depression.
What picture is not about may be of more interest
And when it we planned had become hard to resist;
Won't believe this when around he was storming,
Have heard many say that he may be a Mormon.
When this was mentioned he smiled and smiled;
By a dimwit, dumb President us he really defiled,
Instead of being famous ignoramus Episcopalian,
He had converted continents and is an Australian.
James Josephus Jolly Horn
A Mormon in Salt Lake City
Was white as the snow and pretty
Bit it was her luck
To meet a young buck
More skilled in the nitty-gritty
So God gave her a second chance
But Satan still ruled her pants
The buck left a seed
She had an half-breed
And gossips went wild with their rants
The Relief Society vexed
The Bishops poured over their texts
Her sin was born
To public scorn
If not crushed, then who would be next?
"Heavenly Father" knew the way
The breed's mother would have no say
The breed must go
Out in the snow
Only its God could save the day
God left the breed in the snow
For half-breeds have no place to go
A family tree
Is no guarantee
One won't get ye olde heave-ho
Half-breeds are born without leaven
They can not rise up to heaven
Any crap game
Is their domain
They live for 7-11
An half-breed's snow-angel struggle
Is not an attempt to juggle
The racist hype
Nor hate-filled gripe
Its a final plea for a snuggle.
Old men sit on city benches,
Young girls pass, ALL future wenches,
Bought and sold, wrapped up like candy
Human slaves to feelings randy,
Seniors find their skin's now forest,
Sunshine's grown a Mormon chorus.
Churches members? Cut Black faces,
Uptight segregate by races.
"Black and White?" Such simple answer!
Too bad it's just one more cancer!
Colors merged (like rainbows bending)?
Rich and poor must parse gov. spending!
All men scarred by those excluded,
Poverty is life denuded!
Excess is the spice of living,
Only winners are the giving!
Long Tooth
March 27, 2018
4984
Flowers Flourish and Nourish
What flowers need for them to flourish,
Is properly feed and them you nourish;
Grow up and greatly do begin to bloom,
And after that must continue to groom.
Growing process ends up being ongoing;
Wind continues and is constantly blowing,
Seeds on earth's surface where they land;
This was way all of life God had planned.
When you will pray daily God does inspire,
Everyone consisting of our total and entire;
God in complete control life we have to let,
And goals He set for us are sure to be met.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC 28422
Surrounded By Sounds That Astounded
Memories and thoughts after hearing
Mormon Tabernacle Choir on TV.
Sub Categories
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