My grandpa owned a laundry
And when shirts were washed and pressed,
They were folded ‘round some cardboard
To stay neat ‘til you got dressed.
Our family shirts were treated
Just the same, except we learned
My grandpa paid a nickel
For each cardboard we returned.
This way, he used them once again
And so it seems that I’m
A descendant of a person who
Recycled ‘fore his time.
Saying You Can’t
Is a Precursor to Saying You Won’t
Written: by Tom Wright
2/7/2018
To most problems I adopt a pragmatic approach,
Experience is the schoolroom where I was taught.
Knowledge quickly became my first head coach,
And common sense didn’t promote using cannot.
If you’re one to hang your hat on being right,
Saying “I can’t” ensures that you’ll always be.
While correctness may extend to you brief delight,
Transient emotions never make life carefree.
For a lifetime of happiness,
you'll allow love into your heart.
And pursue your dreams with passion;
not letting life tear you apart.
Truth is a precursor for love;
paving the way to thoughts of bliss.
And approaching exaltation,
you know, only love feels like this!
With Cupid's unwavering aim,
love conjoins two hearts into one.
And they are inseparable;
once His magic arrow is done.
Love is a blend of emotions;
the most crucial of which is trust.
For only through trust can love last
forever: beyond bones and dust.
Rain's precursor
a cloud's rehearsal
slivers of ariel fluff
stretch towards
the bottom of us
cleansing the way
Maytag advertised it
The way John might've
done at the riverside.
Rain that goes way down
making daddy proud
with its spiritual side effects
The way toddlers' toes
dry in Play-Doo
making the perfect ashtray.
Rain replenishes earth
the way ink
rejuvenates the soul.
Inhaling Mary's smoke,
watching clouds float,
wondering how amazing it
must've been when Noah's
revelation kicked in.
Even the greatest
engineering feats
began on a whim
or the voice of God
perhaps it was a
woman's whisper,
or a daddy telling his
little girl the world is hers.
Eternal Embrace
holding on, when,
Clouds form
Cerise clouds
picot
the mallows
edging
a wafer
of earth.
Distant mallards
volute the evening,
wainscot
the vault
of season--
a lattice
of lavalieres
mulling a sky
blanched as gin.
And lo He stood there upon the shattered rock
His arms stretched far and wide to guide his sacred flock
The men and women all looked to him for kinship
and he returned to them unshakable friendship
He led them through fire and hail
he brought them freedom and prevailed
Things were as they should be
Then darkened was the cloud
casting the free world under shroud
Freedom spoils on wicked tongues
and martyrs are flayed upon raised rungs
Peace does not last for wicked men
who revel in impure sin
and things changed for the land
The noble man who had delivered them
was dragged down beneath the rim
of his golden throne
to be beaten and stoned
his deeds were forgotten by many
though he begged for mercy he did not receive any
Once a king and now a fiend
the father of Peace became the son of War
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