Starting Life Over and Over

I'm standing at the starting line

each day of life it seems

and even though I never move

I feel I'm chasing dreams

Though from the line I see the place

that I would like to go

I never make the effort towards

what makes a dream to grow.

The time grows short to do the things

that I see in my mind

to make a move from the starting point

my place in life to find

dreams beckon me to move today

towards the person I would be

but standing's all that I can do

or maybe I can turn and flee?

What holds my feet to the starting line

when the gun has fired the sound

to signal all who run the race

that towards glory we are bound?

Perhaps it's fear that holds me fast

to the place I stand today

or indecisions held in my mind

that have turned my feet to clay.

Witch ya Brewin?

If ever you should stir a pot

It's best to check, how deep, how hot

And what is in the cauldron brew

Is it right or is it true

For if you talk behind a back

The pot you call your kettle's black

The LASTing Lecture

This is the beginning of my own eulogy... is it weird to write your own postscript before you up and die?

I just want to make sure that I have my final say... even if I am gone!

The LASTing Lecture

If you are dressed up nice for church

And I am in a box

Then chances are that I am dead…

Or just can’t pick the locks

But even though I cannot speak

Or even make a sound

You know I’m going to have my say

Before put in the ground!

For those who aren’t relations close

Or do not know me well

Your chance to flee has come and gone

As all my kids could tell

For when you’re in a lecture hall

There’s always time for walking

But it is rude to leave a room

When there’s a dead man talking

To Be Continued...

The only one I got that size...

This was written for and about my dad... It is also the first poem that I ever wrote... or at least remember writing down.

"The Only One I Got That Size..."

How do I say that I love you, now that your time is near

The same way that you told me so, throughout the passing years

“The only one I got that size,” was the way you let me know

How many times I heard those words, I have no way to know.

A hard man was my dad you see, a rough life he did lead

To say those words to a little boy, he rarely found the need

That’s not to say he didn’t care, or couldn’t tell me so

He just had a different way, to let his feelings show.

And even though that phrase of love, seldom reached my ear

I always knew that I was loved, throughout my growing years

While other father’s said the words, that we all long to hear

I had to settle for a phrase, that now becomes so dear.

“The only one I got that size, the words I’ll treasure so

The memories that they bring to me, the world will never know

And now your time has come to die, to leave this world of pain

At least I have a piece of you, that always will remain.

A treasure that your little lad, will always keep and hold

A phrase to pass to my own son, before he grows too old

“The only one I got that size,” I now know how you feel

To tell the truth… I always did, and guess I always will

The fourth fifth of July

This was written on the 3rd of July... for some reason (co-worker's talking about getting drunk) I was thinking about alcohol, even though I do not drink.

There’s rockets flying in the air

The red glare is a gleaming

Bombs bursting to the left and right

And the young kids all are screaming

But I am sitting kind of still

And feeling really tranquil

As I have finished my fourth 1/5th

With the bottles near my ankle

While others need a holiday

To cut loose and feel free

But all I need is al-co-hol

And a place for me to pee.

I got a question

I am always curious about words and phrases, and whence they sprang. Seems like a question mark would have been more appropriate to put at the beginning.

I got a question

With all the punctuation marks

From which there are to choose

I wonder why the “period”

Is what they chose to use

I think a better way to go

When women start to cry

Is to change it to a question mark

And ask God the reason why?

VRS

Dog Gone

This is the poem that I wrote for Ryan (A friend and co-worker) and his dog who died suddenly.

I feel your pain

It’s kind of sad

When loved ones have to die

But life is short

And shorter still

In dog years it does fly

But given choice

From which to choose

If I could pick my death

Surrounded by

The ones I love

Well… that would be the best.

VRS

We will know that we have arrived when we see the St. Bernard lying down with the chick

Manniversary

Written about that special day... as a reminder not to forget it ever!

Manniversary

I cannot count the seconds…

The minutes are not clear…

The days all run together…

Time spent with you, my dear

The weeks they are too many…

The months all feel like spring…

The years…?

I’M KEEPING REAL GOOD TRACK

Or my neck your sure to ring!

A Tramp in the bedroom

This was written as a dare from a co-worker... sort of like mental gymnastics. It is right on the edge of civility and decorum... but it works for me. And remember, "Unto the pure, ALL THINGS are pure."

A Tramp in the bedroom

I bet you wish you had the thing
That I have in my room
I get to jump it all the time
Though it doesn’t have a womb

For every other guy I know
A trapeze works just fine
But my wife will not climb on one
Unless she’s full of wine

So the best thing I have ever found
To get my groove thing on
Is jumping on my trampoline
From late at night, till dawn

When most guys think of bedroom toys
They’re thinking, “Young and hottie!”
But jumping on my bedroom tramp
Is anything, but naughty.

The Crying Game

This one is for my Mom who likes playing dominos... where as I like eating at Dominos...

The Crying Game

A tear compares to rain drops
This much we all should know
Yet other things are known to fall…
Why not the dom-in-no?

“A domino fell from my eye”…
I guess we all could say
But many more we’d need to cry…

To have enough to play!

Finger food

This started out about people flipping the bird at new drivers... somehow I ended up in the grocery store. I was envisioning a first time shopper (male) who does not realize that he is "doing it wrong." I guess that I just like twisting and making a play on words.

Finger food

I’m not sure what to make of this

For I have just begun

But they all like the way I drive

They think I’m number one

Now, they don’t say it with their words

Nor with a smiling face

But they are flashing me the sign

When I drive anyplace

They do not seem to mind the way

I shop… they don’t complain

But they get mad at my full cart

In the fifteen item lane

What is Civilly Right

Got no use for flag burners... Most of my "efforts" just fall out of my head, and land on the page. We were living in Oceanside California when this one was written. It could be the proximity to Camp Pendelton that stirred this one up and out.

What is Civilly Right?

There is a land so dear to me

From which I’ll never roam

It is the good old USA

The place I call my home

We have a symbol that we fly

So proudly does it wave

To many it does represent

The land, the free, the brave

So many words from pen they flow

About our sacred flag

But I would like to speak to those

Who treat it like a rag

“My civil right’s allow me to!”

I hear your shrill reply

But countless men for her have fought

And their blood you now deny

"What kind of man would burn a flag

That’s held so many tears

From mother’s who have lost a son

Throughout these many years?"

The answer to this question asked

About what kind of man...

It’s one who will wrap in the flag

But for her will not stand

So next time you cry “Civil Right's"

I hope it’s from a cell

But if the truth be spoken plain

I wish you’d go to hell!

Love Blossoms

This was my "Flower phase" when I could not get off of them... But I do like it.

Love Blossoms

A flower has no arms to fold

On loved ones you hold dear

A flower has no eyes to cry

And shower them with tears

A flower has no mouth to say

The words you long to share

But flowers show the ones we love

How much we really care

Eternal Embrace

The picture and the poem pretty much say it all. Small kids should not die... unless we are being reminded about how precious they truly are. Written for all who feel the pain of love lost too early.

Eternal Embrace

Some gifts we do not want to share

They’re priceless to behold

And that is why God took you back

Before you could grow old

Sometimes the maker of the clay

Creates something so rare

That even He, who gives us life,

The parting could not bear

So even though our time was brief

On earth we had to spend

Next time we meet I won’t let go

And then my heart will mend.

Sorrow Shared

This was meant for mother's. How can you weigh and measure sorrow... or hope to put an end to it?

Sorrow Shared

How heavy does the tear drop fall?

That’s in a mother’s eye

When life they brought into this world

Before them has to die

There is no way to comprehend

The anguish in those tears

They speak a language all their own

We hope to never hear

How heavy does the tear drop fall?

This never will be known

The only way to lighten them

Is by care and kindness shown

A Horsy Ride

They tell you to get back up on that horse... but did anyone think to give us more instruction?

A Horsy Ride

When we are young and oh so small

Before we learn to walk or crawl

We play a game of seek and hide

And then get our first horsy ride

We learn that riding can be fun

We learn to play and then to run

As life moves on and we grow old

There is this thing that we are told

When off a horse we have been thrown

We climb back up this much is known

We cannot simply walk away

To leave it for another day

This horse it must be ridden now

They tell you when but never how

To do this task that must be done

Our horsy ride has just begun

We stare the horse straight in the eye

And start back up to where it’s high

This lesson that we all must learn

The saddle waits for our return

It’s hard to see the reason why

The horse will buck and then we’ll fly

Back down to earth like stars we fall

Before we ride lets learn to crawl

Meeting

A random stream of words started to come out of me... then it came together... then it turned into this poem. Then I turned it into a short story about an old childless couple who adopt kids late in life... orphaned kids.

Meeting

I met a man the other day, just walking down the road

He asked me if I chanced to see, his family pet called “Toad”

I did not know just what to say, as I had just walked by

The biggest, flattest, frog of all, the truth would hurt this guy.

He said that all his family was, just home now saying prayer,

To tell him that his frog was dead, I did not even dare.

His frog was flatter than a cake, the kind made in a pan,

To break his heart by saying this would really hurt this man.

I felt that I must tell him how… what happened to his frog,

As I was getting ready to… along there came a dog!

The man said, “Toad, where have you been, I’ve walked a country mile?”

The dog just barked and licked his face; it gave me such a smile.

As I was watching all this joy, a truck came round the bend

I’d tell you all what happened next, but your heart would need to mend.

There’s a moral to this story… if you should love a toad,

You’d better keep them close to home, and don’t stand in the road!

The Country That I Know

This is aimed at all of the cynics and critics who run us down in the middle of the road each night on the news, when we are trying to stand up for something and helps other countries.

The Country That I Know

How come we never talk about

The country that I know?

The one that rushes to the aid

Of others when their low.

The nation that gives all we have

To help and lend a hand.

And sends her best and brightest men

To die in distant sand.

How come we never hear the news

spoke loud and with acclaim,

of all the good a righteous acts...?

Instead we just get blame!

Why does the world see only bad

in all we do each day?

Perhaps the day will come along

when our good leaders say...

"To heck with all the other lands

we gave all we could give...

it's time you find another teat

on which to suck to live!"

A Loving God

Where did the notion come from

That death should pass us by

When in our youth or innocence

And righteous in Gods eye

When tragedy has touched our life

Our family or our land

We want to know the reason why

In anger we demand

Why should a just and righteous man

His tender soul be slain

From life be torn by heathen hand

In prayers we do complain

The sinner stands the pure will fall

This is not just we say

And from belief of loving God

We sadly turn away

The tragedy is not in death

The innocent are free

The just and righteous torn from us

Do not taste death you see

While wicked men foul deeds remain

To damn eternal souls

Those swept away are in God’s care

And names on heaven’s rolls

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 son!

The things that matter most of all

Are passed and handed down

They move from father to his son

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 son is taught.

Faith-ing your Fears

A trembling hand of faith stretched out

A heart so full of shame

Afraid to look into his eyes

And dare not call his name

The pressing throng around him stood

Too bar salvations door

A cloak was all that she could reach

His hem and nothing more

A trembling hand, a broken heart

And eyes that would not rise

Though weak the flesh, her faith was strong

He stopped to her surprise

“Why woman, did thou touchest me?”

So gentle was his hand

“Arise… your faith hath made thee whole”

How gentle God’s command

Imagine how the soul must feel

When fear has gone away

Replaced by faith, and simple trust

Gods gift to us each day

We walk through life with burden great

Kept hidden deep inside

Ashamed and lost we walk alone

And yet he’s at our side

We only need to reach for him

And trust his loving care

And drop our burden at his feet

Our pain with him we share

A Soldiers Gift

You do not need to cry for me

It’s what I chose to do

I stood and fought for freedom

And fell and died for you

The gift I left for you and yours

With blood this debt I paid

Is choice to do just as you will

What with it have you made?

Our freedom and our liberty

We take so casually

So many have their life blood lost

To keep this nation free

We walk through life without a care

And never give one thought

To those who put their dreams aside

And for our country fought

The sacrifice and soldiers spent

Should mean much more you know

So ask yourself this question

As through your life you go

With all that you’ve been given

With all that you can choose

What are the things that matter most?

What do we have to lose?

There’s many who have gone before

And many more will fall

They stand for all that’s right and good

They hear a different call

So do not cry and shed a tear

It’s what they chose to do

Just ask yourself a question

With freedom, what will I do?

A Snail’s Pace

A snail may not move real fast

When crawling on the ground

A snail is not very loud

It does not make a sound

A snail has no wings to spread

To help it fly real high

But if it’s patience that you seek

Then give this thing a try

Just watch a snail as it moves

So slow upon the ground

Just sit and watch it patiently

And see what you have found

A snail does not worry much

As the world goes flying by

He does the best with what he has

And here’s the reason why

A snail cannot change the fact

That it will move real slow

A snail is not bothered

That a trumpet it can't blow

A snail does not worry that

It has no wings to fly

But neither does it worry

If it lives or if it dies

A snail does what it can do

It does all that it can

A snails pace is kind of slow

This is the Master’s plan

As we are racing round the world

With all its pain and strife

If like the snail we would move

We’d get more out of life

We need to learn this simple thing

A lesson taught real slow

We need to take it with us

As through each day we will go

The snail’s pace will not go far

And will not win the race

But if you look so very close

It has a smiling face

End of Me

I woke up today feeling kind of blue

Can't say why but it was real and true

I did not know just what to do

So a poem I wrote... for me and you.

End of Me

Ever stop to think about

That this day may be it

That future days are at an end

And we’ve got all we will get

That even though the world moves on

And still spins round and round

That we may have to step aside

And lay quiet in the ground?

The prospect of the end of times

Which each of us will face

Is coming at us straight and sure

At a slow and steady pace

For each day that we draw a breath

Each sunrise that we see

We never know which one it is

The last for us will be.

So take a thought to look around

As the dawn breaks on this day

And make a vow to waste it not

While it stands on bright display

For sands of time will run their course

And so will you and I

Then before you know or suspect a thing

You’ll be called upon to die.

And looking down from Heaven’s gate

Or up from the devil’s lair

I bet we’ll wonder why we cried

Or ever had despair

For the here and now is what we have

What with it will we do?

For comes a day when life is done

And the end for me and you.

Happiness Defined

Happiness Defined

Happiness is not a what, and not a when or where

It’s what you do, with what you’ve got, and how much you can share.

Crying out loud

Why does a baby cry so loud…

When to this world they’ve come?

For nine months we’ve not heard a sound

These kids they have been mum

 

And yet the moment that they’re out

When first brought to our view

Of all God’s gifts, with them they bring

It’s crying that they do

 

Some speculate the journey’s hard

And being born’s no fun

But I can tell the truth to you

The bossing has begun!

 

Just ask yourself a month from now

Who really runs this show?

And then you’ll know why babies cry

Each day… as they will grow!

Love

If… our world stops turning

And all… we hold so dear

Is scattered to the depths of space

Have hope, and never fear

The thing we have together

This thing that we both share

Is more than just emotion

It’s true love and it’s rare

We measure not in minutes

It’s longer than a day

It reaches towards eternity

And forever it will stay

Three little words

I know the words

You want to hear

I feel them deep inside

And yet, my love

From you my dear

I feel the need to hide

A man you see

Is tough and brave

And raised to be real strong

It’s hard for me 

To say these words

I love you…

I was wrong!

A Brighter Day

A light from heaven’s gate was sent

To warm the world below

She touched the lives of all who met

Her spirits tender glow

A ray of hope from heaven came

To brighten up each day

Though loved by all who knew her well

She sadly could not stay

Sometimes the maker of the clay

Creates something so rare 

That even He who gives us life

The parting could not bare

So taken home by loving hands 

To light a brighter sky

We’re left to ponder on her life

And have to question why?

In heaven does the sun go down?

At night is light all gone?

I testify my firm belief…

In heaven there is a DAWN