Welcome to Eden
dominating the dominated
exhibiting the power called man.
the heir to the heirloom
Let's eat from the fruit Eden
seeking the knowledge that birth pain
tooling the land of our toils
spilling the beans of our sorrows
Go out of Eden
Sell out your heritage
Trading inheritance to inherit once
with blood littering our hands
sacrifice the lamb
Rip apart the curtains.
call upon Father's love
Let's go back to Eden.
True Story
Tooling down the highway, through a New South country town
Listen to the crackle on CB
A voice comes through the speaker, faint and on its own
I wonder if they could be calling me
Now the CB things illegal, so we need to take some care
It could be an Inspector or a Cop
I'd like to reply to them, but do I really dare
I found an isolated place where I could stop
I made an answer to the call, asked roughly where they were
Turns out that they were not far down the road
I returned to say where I was, but made the spot a blur
There is no such thing as safety overload
Along comes a red Cortina, with antenna on the guard
I put out my left hand to flag him down
I was closer than he thought I was, so put the brakes on hard
The first stop that they had made since Sydney Town
He got out and came towards me, his wife still in the car
We had a yarn and planned to meet another day
Now that was forty years ago, and I can say that they still are
The closest friends, that we have had up to this day
I took a casual stroll through the local cemetery the other day,
Looking for interesting epitaphs and to pay my respects along the way.
Many stones were simply etched with names and dates of death and birth.
Others contained tales of sad demise, yet others of perky mirth.
"Here lies Clyde now expired,
Another man's wife Clyde desired.
The man pierced Clyde's ticker with a knife,
Thereby making a widow of Clyde's wife!"
"I now own this little plot of land,
And as such I make this firm demand:
As nigh my hallowed grave you pass,
Please keep off the cotton pickin' grass!"
"Scuba diver Marty came to grief,
As he was tooling 'round a Bermuda reef.
He was having himself a carefree lark,
'Til he encountered a ravenous shark!"
"Here sleeps Sergeant Major Cooper,
A brave Fifth Cavalry trooper.
It was just his bad luck,
That when arrows flew he failed to duck!"
"Herein lies trucker Don who failed to swerve,
Speeding 'round a mountain curve.
His semi sailed o'er the precipitous edge,
Landing at the foot of a thousand foot ledge!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
God and Grueling
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx
God prevents things that are grueling
Me for a great day up started tooling
Sitting me down making me still
And showing me a new found skill
So much to learn in His schooling.
Jim Horn
Tooling Down The Jersey Shore
This is a love poem
While tooling down the Jersey Shore
Crooning tunes it often does
And warming off the sunny chill
It's a long time familiar trip
But New today, made by an angel’s company
Although not known right away
The atmosphere began to show
The road was rising up
Carrying me in a cup of an angel’s hand
So special, words are hard to find,
Much less to say; I’m at a loss-
But, not the highway,
For it remembers me well
All my dreams -all those years
I rode on white wall wheels
Turning out lonely dreams
Rolling over discontented woes
About exactly where to go- down the shore
Alone to act as though, someone waited
Now, today, close to Christmas day
An angel rides along holds my hand
An promises what I longed so long ago
Someone’s heart waits for me
… at the shoreline door.
With pride swelling deep inside
I take you out for a ride
Tooling all around our town
Watching heads pivot around
Shining white as virginal snow
Purring like a kitten below
I'm deliberately driving slow
For I want everyone to know
You are my pride, my greatest joy
A dream cherished as a boy
Unmarked by the slightest blemish
You've fulfilled my every wish
You take me back to a gentle time
Where treasured memories are mine
You're adorned with gleaming chrome
All eyes follow as we head home
Though it came a little late
I own a pristine fifty-eight
For weeks I labored hot and heavy
The reward - my beautiful Chevy