Cowboys
Let the cowboys be…
Let them tend to causes....genuine and real
To bequeath…an opportunity to be authentic.
To bequeath…a shot at redemption
To weed the errant and replant in ravines, chasms
In pastures new…
….the errant cowboys,
…..burdensome, irksome, oppressive…too much
….for sale, with privileges too plentiful
…..the ones acting out.. avaricious mode aplenty
……one too many errors
……. lives not to be trampled upon
………let the cowboys be, in bountiful pastures new!
Perhaps some coffee beans to sweep away the pain
The angst caused by servings of callous, and cruelties untold
Teenagers if you date
Date with tree planting.
If you have a car
Plant ten trees.
Plant, plant, plant trees
Continue planting trees.
Clean your environment
Plant trees every ten meters.
If you cut trees
Replant right away.
If you build building
Plant also trees.
Put QR code
Every tree you plant.
One tree, one nation
Each one, plant one.
Kill the trees
They have no place here
They’re not gonna do anything
They never did anything for you
Kill the trees
Break the boards, demonstrate
to the students of the earth
Show them what happens
to the trees that invade our land
They shall know
that man has come.
We will rob you of everything
We replant the apples we feed on
To expand our horizons of knowledge
And then we kill you
Because we don’t need you.
Man has come to rob you of all life
Until man stands alone
and his brother is the last witness
To the death of a trillion-thousand stars
Nature can teaches us
So much if we take the time
To stop, look and listen to your heart
And what She is saying
At times, if we care to hear Her
We can do so many ways:
Protect Her where protection is needed
Replant trees where reforestation is urgent
Human progress should nature progress also
Do less mining with precautions
Government should care the aquifer
Strict enforcement of Air, Land and Water Act
Refill, reuse and recycle canned and plastic product
Don't throw garbage to nature
She is the source of life, of treasure, of beauty
Therefore, we owe her everything
Therefore, as form of gratitude
We'll love and protect Her till the end
We are in such a hurry at times
That nature predicament now is in danger
It's getting worsen, irreplaceable and irreparable
Damage conditions of our nature
Hope Leaders of the World awaken
Global warming is real
Nature is unleashing its fury everyday
People will realized it's not too late to heal Her
Yes, we live in an incredible World Of Nature
It's time true love for nature is exemplified
Let us reciprocate where reciprocation is due.
A poet's job's
not to incite a mob
Or to fan red-hot
flames ever higher
Rather, to remove
those hot coals
and replant them
on peaceful atolls
Before I knew what, who, why, where.
It left me here with this blank stare.
The worlds been turning faster than I could spin.
Looking for love turned outside in.
The shades of grey begin to fade.
When years go by not making the grade.
And someday comes and dissappears.
All cried out with no more tears.
Answers only reminisce in questions that your past's dismiss.
Evasive sence of that long lost kiss.
The sorrowful solemness of no goodbye.
She changed her mind and didn't say why.
Now I realize that I've been left.
With no regard if I'm bereft.
To wither or replant that seed of hope.
A roller coaster ride just trying to cope.
The devil left, the angel right by my side.
It's hard to know what's true when sometimes in both you confide.
My blood still runs warm through viens misconstrued.
Some understand, some just think you're rude.
So I just continue to try to see what i can see.
Since there's nobody left here to ask but me.
No words of wisdom here, just grey matter of fact.
A confession of reality with not a syllable to retract.
It has been too long a while
Since helpfulness was in full style
We need to bring it back again'
Like it used to be back when
Strangers used to help each other
Not like now--it's such a bother
To lend a hand to those in need
We need to replant the seed
Of sharing into the ground
Helping it grow all around
It doesn't need to be a hassle
As this world spins in a circle
Let's boomerang some love back in
If everybody took a minute
To look deep inside themselves
And see someone who needs help
Reaching out a caring hand
Is a gesture that's so grand
And might change a life for good
This is something we all should
Try and accomplish every day
Soon a chain of love will sway
With kindness in every link
Lets all get it to the brink
Of heaviness it can handle
Love is not a crime or scandal
So let's use it all we can
Spread happiness throughout the land
When this earth is hurt and in pain
Is the earth crying but we call it rain
So when the sun is shining warm up in the sky
Why do we continue to hurt this earth and still
Make it cry.
We take away habits and dig a grate big hole
Don't you realise we are killing earth and taking away
It's soul.
So stop this mutilation and ripping out earth's heart
Stop all the pollution and replant tree's
That's a good way to start.
If you were a lilac
And I was a bee
I'd make us a home
In a honeysuckle tree
I'd fly to where you're planted
And get down on one knee
Then take your petals in my wing
And ask if you would be
My one and only flower,
Could it be just you and me
Who fed and filled each other
With honey from the tree?
If you said yes I'd take you
From the roots and so gently
Replant you in the center
To grow exclusively
I'd water you forever
And help for you to be
The most resplendent lilac
The world did ever see
Honeysuckle lilac
Would permeate the air
Surrounding all the neighborhood
With sweet perfume so fair
And in the dusk of evening
Just as the sun goes down
The final rays encircle on
Your head a golden crown
The other bees would notice
This lilac who's so fine
They'd swarm but all for nothing
This lilac here is mine
He brought a flesh eating plant
That cause his heart to just pant
Others tried to warn
But his heart was torn
He was found in-line for replant
I wonder what it would be like
to have a removable headstone,
to have my own portable waymark
for this ever passing world.
Stuck in heavy triadic
the road slithers slowly forward
on my wet surface.
I am the traffic I move through.
I am driven to a small park.
where children
are running around in a circle
while a stationary adult watches.
If I could, I would replant my tombstone there,
there in the center of the children,
as something for them to turn around.
It's not right
that they should all be revolving like that,
spinning around nothing at all.
Bones remain, retain, and nourish
the under-croft, the terrain,
the meadow green.
Bones replant. They are meals for
the mouths of ghosts.
The dead feed the living,
and the living cut down the alive
to feed themselves.
The world must eat itself.
This is called husbandry and farming.
It is also called shopping and carrying,
killing, and butchery.
Those that eat only vegetables
also partake;
for the leaf and stalk
are seeded in the mellowing marrow
of a long planted bone-sown mire.
Often bones are dropped into the soil
as if the dirt were an ocean
and the land all that is or was left-over.
This is known as litter.
A grave is a half-way house,
Urns are waiting rooms.
Worms wheel the bon-rich earth
towards the sky for its blessing.
Osseous is the ancestry that seeds nations.
What follows bone and bone ash
becomes the crop, the tomorrow-cart
laden with its bone harvest.
Bone-flowers scent the air
from the empty canals of nowhere.
Bones scaffold wingspans,
they riddle citadels of stone.
Bones in tombs and catacombs
are pabulum for the larder.
A storage for generations.
I passed a church today
glanced at the 12 foot cross
with hanging replica of Jesus
beaten, flayed, crucified.
I slowed my pace,
almost turned to ask:
"Why do they think you'll come back?"
I pondered the question
walking slowly in the darkness
trying to see in passersby
what he claims to have seen...
the divinity of man....
I once held out hope
that it was still hidden
buried somewhere deep
awaiting re-awakening
then tortured myself
wondering how it was
allowed to go to sleep.
Perhaps it was drugged,
incapacitated by some
satanic aphrodisiac
lulled into lethargy
waiting for someone,
anyone, to replant
the mustard seed
of faith, of belief
in themselves,
in their inherent nature
to express the divinity
that is their heritage,
their gift, their essence.
I walk still in the doubt
that he would return
to awaken a world
of slumbering saints
disconnected from the
ancestral roots of angelic expression
sitting idly inside a church
praising an iconic God
while denying
in their actions
the truth of His.
John G. Lawless
3/2/2021
Bones and their ash remain,
retain and nourish
the under-croft, the terrain.
The meadow green.
Bones replant.
The dead feed the living,
and the living cut down the living
to feed themselves.
The world must eat itself.
This is called husbandry and farming.
It is also called shopping and carrying,
killing, and butchery.
Those that eat only vegetables
also partake.
A grave is a half-way house,
Urns are waiting rooms.
The soil nurses bones,
worms wheel the earth towards the sky
for its blessing.
Osseous clouds seed nations.
What follows bone and bone ash
becomes the crop,
the tomorrow-cart laden
with its bone harvest.
Bone-flowers scent the air.
Bones underpin bridges and wingspans,
citadels of stone.
Bone dust scaffolds every stem and branch.
Bones in tombs and catacombs
are food for the larder.
A storage for generations.
Stars shed their elemental dust,
becoming bone fodder.
Bone ash is the genesis
of all unknown beginnings.
The Earth is my Grandmother
caring and gentle, whispering
to me upon her breezes to nurture,
replant, enjoy the world. She
call to me in the echoes of the
mountains to remember, to relax,
to keep the world a better place.
The Moon is my Grandfather
rock hard and silent, watching
me, instructing me on how not
to turn Grandmother into a
barren wasteland. He is bitter
and yells form the skies raining
dust and debris, turning this
world into a bitter place.
I am the dam, keeping myself
from turning a gentle, flowing
world into a barren floodplain.
I honor my Grandmother and use
only what I need. I fear my
Grandfather and the destruction
I can cause. I am the dam,
steady, looking out for both sides.
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