Destination

My recent thoughts have turned in the direction of the choices that we all make, the actions that we all take, and the consequences that follow our decisions, and the ones that wait for us at the end of the path that we are all choosing to walk upon... Pretty deep stuff for a Friday!


Destination

You put you feet upon a path
And start to move along
It matters not if you are weak
Or very, very strong
The path you choose to travel on
Up hill or down it be
The steps you take are yours alone
Towards an unseen destiny

The destiny to paths unknown
That we may choose to take
Are set in stone and firmly fixed
By the decisions we choose to make
The twists and turns, the thorny path
How hard or smooth the way
Are wages we have justly earned
And the price we all must pay

For freely man may move along
Down byways of ease or pain
To seek for riches, or selflessness
Our eternal rewards to gain
We may walk upright or stumble on
Or kneel and crawl in dust
The destination found at journey’s end
We know is right and just.

So if the path you now are on
Is not where you should be
Remember that the choice is yours
To stop, to stand or flee
If what you want in deep desire
Is to walk through heavens gate
Then turn around when you feel the heat
Or enjoy hell’s fire and fate.

Unto Me

This is one of my first seriously serious poems.

Unto Me

"Unto the least of these my brethren"
These are the words he chose
To let us know he’s watching us
And that our deeds he knows

The kindness that we pass along
To others on our way
The simple things we do for them
Through each and every day

He told us that the things we do
Shall not be done in vain
And doing good to someone else
Is done to him in name

The loving acts we seek to hide
So others will not see
Recall the words the Savior spoke
"You’ve done it unto me."

"Unto the least of these my brethren"
Those were the words he chose
And when you do a kindly act
Please rest assured he knows

The Dumping Of Humpty

We’ve heard about this human egg

That climbed up on a wall

But do you know why he sat there

Or how he came to fall?

This story that you know so well

This story you’ve been told

There’s more that I would like to share

If I may be so bold

The part that you have heard so far

Is that he sat and fell

But how and why this all occurred

Is what I plan to tell

You know that horses of the king

And all his finest men

Although they tried most earnestly

Could not fix him again

But do you know that when he fell

Before he came apart

That someone had just left the scene

And that it broke his heart?

There was a rumor going round

That humpty had been bumped

But now you know the awful truth

In fact he had been dumped!

Few know that humpty had a girl

Who's shell was white as snow

And that he planned to marry her

Or so my story goes

She lived with seven other guys

Who worked a diamond mine

But humpty didn’t seem to care

He thought that this was fine

As he was going out to buy

A diamond for his love

A horse and rider came along

Saying, "Look out!" from above.

Upon the horse there sat a guy

As handsome as can be

He asked,

"Which way to Snow White’s house?"

"She plans to marry me!"

Then off he rode to wed the girl

That humpty loved as well

And that is why he climbed the wall

And finally from it fell

He tried to make her understand

All that he had inside

But she said that she liked her eggs

Hard-boiled… or just fried!

The Prince and Snow road off to live

In happy-ever-after

And Humpty's heart was broke in two

By their happiness and their laughter.

So instead of growing old and gray

With Snow White by his side

The humpty that you know and love

Cracked up… and then he died.

The lesson here for all to learn

That should not be forgotten

When served with bacon most eggs are good

But their taste in girls is rotten!

Not so fast

I want to tell you all about
A race that you know well
It stars a furry animal
And one that has a shell
There’s more to this than meets the eye
This story you’ve been told
I want to tell the rest of it
Before you grow too old
Before the race that you all know
Another one took place
A snail and this tortoise
Went out to have a race
They went to find out which one could
Move fast and cover ground
They met each other on the path
And not one made a sound
The snail finally broke the spell
And said, "Its time to race!"
He said, "You better take a look
Just once more at my face!
I’m going to leave you far behind
You’ll have to eat my dust
I’m going to be the winner
And the tape first I will bust"
The tortoise only looked at him
And had not much to say
Just spoke to him these simple words
"Then lets not make delay!"
"You think that you will win the race
I’m going to prove you wrong!
For slow and steady is the pace
And that’s where I am strong!"
He said, "If you are ready then
It’s one, two, three, let’s go!"
But just before they started out
The snail cried out, "Whoa!"
The snail yelled, "Before we start"
"There’s one thing I forgot
I left my racing shoes at home
The new one’s I just bought"
The snail said. "Just wait right here
I’m back before you know"
So off he ran to get his shoes
And he did not move slow!
The tortoise gasp to watch him fly
That snail was real fast
The tortoise knew that he would lose
"I’m sure to come in last!"
As the tortoise waited for the snail
A hare then came along
And this is where the snail’s tale
Began to go so wrong
If he had only hung around
And ran this silly race
The snail would have been the one
To put the rabbit in its place
You would have never, ever heard
How going slow is good
Or how a hare would take a nap
Because he thought he could
The tortoise would have never been
The hero of this tale
It would have been the other guy
The one we call the snail
The snail came back just in time
To see the rabbit lose
To watch the tortoise claim the prize
And all because of shoes
If there is something here to learn
For you and me to know
When you are going out to race
Prepare before you go
It matters not how fast you are
Or how good you can talk
If you forget to bring your shoes
You may as well just walk
The snail never won the race
And never ran again
And now you know why they move slow
There’s nothing left to win!

The Measure Of A Man

I actually wrote this with a co-worker in mind... his father had just died, and I was trying to reach out to him in the only way a sensitive hetrosexual man can, namely with a sensitive poem about his dad... but the strangest thing happened on the way to giving it to him... he continued with his annoying habit of acting like he was superior and slightly demeaning to me. And since he was a supervisor of sorts, I felt obligated not to respond in kind to him... and also to not respond kindly to him by giving him this poem, which I regret.

Even though the idea came out of his grief, it still is full of the sentiments that I have and had for my own dad... and I hope that someday people will look at my two bookend boys and my three middle (rhymes with little) girls, and think kindly of me and the way that my lovely wife and I raised up our children.

Measure of a Man

How do you measure one man’s life
To see what he has done?
Some search for treasures left behind
Instead… look to his sons!

The things that matter most of all
Are passed and handed down
They move from father to his sons
These riches do abound

The world may gauge our lives by that
Which we have sold and bought
To measure what a man has done
See how his sons were taught.

The Mighty Pen

This is one of my favorite poems. I was just starting to explore the poetry realms of inanimate objects, musing on what I should write about. It was late at night... I was holding the pen, twirling it around... nibbling on the end, and BANG... this poem fell out! It wrote itself in under five minutes... that is how I can tell when they are good... they seem to be pre-written in my head.

The Mighty Pen

A pen can hold a thousand thoughts
But not one will it share
It only lies there quietly
Till picked up in the air
Some twirl its form and hesitate
Till thoughts come clear to view
Still others will just sit and muse
And give the end a chew
The pen is mighty as a sword
But will not do for battle
Yet used with swift, embolden strokes
Your enemies will it rattle
So when you look upon this pen
The mysteries contained
Just give it one big mighty shake…
The ink from it has drained!

Punt

Sometimes thoughts just pop out of my mind... maybe it is just my minds way of cleaning out the corners and sweeping away the dust... if this is the case, then this was one of those times...

PUNT

When life has got you by the balls (round male/sports equipment)

And nothing turns out right (correct or desired)

Your choice is to sit on the bench (highly polished wood)

Or get in the game and fight (attempt to win)

It makes no sense to sit around (couch and remote are optional)

And hope that things will change (channels… after you lose the remote)

Get up and strap your helmet on (mouth piece optional)

Then run around deranged (think NFL coverage teams)

It matters not which team you're on (shirts or skins)

Or if you win or lose (unless you have a bet on the game)

What matter is… "Get off the couch" (insert wife’s voice here)

Or roll over and just snooze (Saturdays warriors)

The Road

This is a poem that was written for a co-worker who was going through a divorce.

The Road

The Road of life is filled with bumps

And twists along the way

Quite oft, the one’s we choose to love

They simply do not stay

But life is long, the road unclear

The end beyond our view

And somewhere on your journey’s path

I know he waits for you.

A man who knows and understands

How tender your heart can be

And who, beside you always stands

And will never from you never flee.

How Many More

Recently I have been working on a strategy for a 5, 10 and 15 year life plan.

Having discovered the upstate region of New York state, I have been trying to devise a strategy whereby I can move there, get a house and some property, and write books and poems until I drop dead.

This line of thought got me to thinking about exactly how much life I might have left, and what I should really be doing with the sand left in the hour glass of my life.

Two things came out of all of this musing....

First, planning your life is fun, but do not forget that you also need to live it...

Second, this poem.

How Many More

“How many days do I have left?”
I have to ask myself…
For I have many things to do
And dreams left on the shelf.
Five kids to raise, a wife to love
So much work left you know,
I wonder if the Lord knows this
And delays my time to go?

Perhaps I’ll live a hundred years…
And have to sit and wait,
And watch as others pass away
To enter heavens gate.
Or maybe we will pack it up
And make the trip together
And take this craziness called life
To where you live forever!