Sunday, August 30, 2020

Why Do I Write


A compliment received,

the feeling that is is deserved escapes me.

I find nothing within

nor in my words that does not exist in all.

I've grown tired, as we all should be,

of what we see in this country

and the world in general.

Though there is kindness and respect

still spread widely across the globe,

it is the violence toward and hatred of others

that seems to have the loudest voice.

One tree may dwarf another,

yet they grow side by side.

Their leaves may appear different,

yet in the fall together they cover the forest floor

protecting their common roots during winter.

They are like those children of various colors

who play peacefully together

before they are taught hatred for their differences

How can they survive when the men of today,

the enemy of all things natural

continues to abuse all that is around him.

Why do I write?

Why do I share my words?

Do they make any difference to anyone?

Or are they simply written to remind myself,

serving no other purpose?

Sunday, December 17, 2017

Is There Not A Better Way

Freedom, where art thou
behind these locked doors
there once was a day
a man could feel safe while venturing beyond his doorway
now I feel prisoner to todays world
on our streets
modern day cowboys with their concealed pistols
ar-15s carried across their backs on slings
why should we be forced to live in fear
having to decide
which of these men are the good guys with a guns
and which is a threat
there is no freedom in a prison of fear

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Things Is Backwards

The war machine
Always fed first
The budget for weapons
Never suffers from thirst

While children lay hungered
And vets become homeless
These priorities in America
Leave the populus hopeless

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

The Footbridge

I sat with my legs dangled over the side,
Listening to natures chorus and the voice of the falls.
Hours spent searching within.
So much sorrow found!
The realization of just how far man has erred haunts my soul.
This beauty missed in the never ending hustle and bustle.
Life has so much more to offer.
It is not only this stream that humanity is leaving behind.
The love and respect for all things has been left at the wayside.
But I had come to think,
To rest from reality and fantasize how the world could be healed.
The sounds of the forest along with the falling water returned.
I felt joyful that my heart had not grown cold,
That the way man had turned against man still bothered me.
I found a certain comfort as I now knew I could still live with who I was.
I think I will stay a while longer and sit
with my legs dangled over the side of this beautiful little footbridge
and listen some more to natures music
and the voice of the falls.

Sunday, February 5, 2017

The Cabin

Blessed by the surrounding forest
so thick with spruce
their boughs reaching low to the ground
there was a natural protection from the winter winds

The snows
when they came
fell gently
covering the ground all about his cabin

Though temperatures would drop outside
within the cabin there was a comfortable warmth
supplied by the ever present embers
found at the base of the hearth

Tonight, the snows were held at bay
it was a bright and wonderful full moon
reflecting from the surface of yesterdays snow
giving an eye opening bit of entertainment

As he gazed out his window
he stood watching as a beautiful buck
emerged from the trees
he was soon joined by a large doe

Within minutes
his entire clearing was filled
with deer
searching for a meal

It was for these nights
he had left the rat race of city life
gone off the grid
and returned to days gone by

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

There is no Free Lunch

An entire gallery of minds eye paintings,
unseen by those who demand spoon feeding.

Mindless entertainment has stolen their ability to think,
to form pictures from their own imaginings,
to experience adventures where they've not been led.

The path beyond the bramble will never be found
if a traveler refuses to work their way through the thorns.

Friday, September 9, 2016

Brothers of Respect

Though we may disagree, it matters not
brothers of respect for others is what we are,
or at least should be
there are times we are tried
the line becomes thin
we question whether each other is deserving
our show of respect vanishes
these are the times that our demons win
these are the times our humanity suffers
these are the times we should be ashamed of ourselves
without that show of respect
we become politicians