I don't know

I don't know
how the world will end
or how it will go.
All I know is the ticking clock
a decent measure
of the soul
Tick tock tick tock
Count the night
watch it go
I don't know
I don't know
Where will it end
And how will it go?

Not one of the roses

they gave us their promise
and they likened us to roses
every one of us could be
so long as they chose us.

on our graduation day
we were as free as the wind.
they told us to be
everything they could send.
the world welcomed us
with wide open arms
like roses we blossomed
no one was harmed.

in college they taught us
so we'd all think the same.
the promise was test scores
that the best would remain.
and the worst was so ugly
as to not be a rose
of which the teachers
quickly disposed.
the thinking was different
too many questions were asked.
so the great promise that was given;
that promise didn't last.

and here I am;
Not a rose;
though I know many indeed.
Of many odd colors
None of which are free.
they gave us their promise
and they likened us to roses
The roses framed
expensive papers; themed posters.

But I, here I am!
with a far different plan
in a sea of perfumed noses.
away from their teachings
and expensive false preachings
I remain.
Not a rose, no siree
But a dense willow tree
Growing where no rose will grow.
Growing, always growing
With roots running deep
anchoring me in
Only then am I free.

When tending your garden (a metaphor for life)

When tending to your garden
Don't forget to build a fence
To keep things out but also
to let things in.

Leave the gate open
for the wind to blow
Pull the weeds that bind
the Roses that grow.

When tending to your garden
See your fruits grow safe
In the sun of the morning
through the wind and rain.

Draw the rocks up close
to your concentrated rows
And keep a close eye
on letting Life grow.

When tending to your garden
Remember the taste of the fruit
And the love you put into it
There you'll see the Truth.

The Farmer ...etc...

The world was sick
So the Farmer thought
As he bought some seeds
With little money he brought.
They charged him more
than the bag was worth
He narrowed his eyes
Rubbed his hands on his shirt
He knew down inside
that his labor was true
and some great divinity
was bound to show through-
Through the seeds in the soil
If he prayed for the rain
That God's natural furrow
Would bring justice to pain.


____________________________
The world is sick
He thought on some more
When he took his spare change
And left the grain store
And passed some children
walking on the street
with holes in their lips
And phones to their cheeks.
_____________________________

The world is so sick
Was all he was thinking
When he took all his change
and instead took to drinking.
He remembered his children
he remembered their strife.
Searching, always searching
For some better life.


...meh...

Honey Honey- Little Toy Gun

A soft Nevada breeze

There's nothing like the smell of spring
In a soft Nevada breeze.
Young shoots of sage
With perfumed wings;
A cool necessity.

Ah, breathe in deep!
the sweet relief
from the desert's eternal toil.
A moment of green
is so serene;
water seeping in soil.

See, all we need
is a little rain
and a cloud swept
'cross the valley floor.
There's nothing like the smell of spring
Leaves me loving Nevada
more and more and more.

Angel and Devil meet on the street

An Angel and a devil
Meet on the street
The Angel is comely
The devil, discreet.
By the shade of a lamplight
devil hides his eyes
A sinister smile yields
A cunning disguise.
Angel steps forth
With kindness and strength
Ready to defend
And tend to his sheep.

'Why, Angel, do you step
Into the light
Where you know you can't see
Where you know it is bright.
Isn't it hard to open your wings
When darkness surrounds you
And there is no one who sees?'

'Devil be damned
I come not for you.
I am looking for goodness
Through and through.
God has forsaken;
But I still believe.
There is goodness among you
And for the badness I grieve.

If there is any in darkness
Who choose not to be
I'd have them come forward
And choose to be free.'

'Angel it seems you are quite insane
We are all of virtue
To Our lord's happy ways.
We do much to our liking
Because you do not care
Your God has forsaken
Under our bosom
The sheep share.
They have all that they wish
Why do you think them unhappy?'

'What you speak is all twisted
From your malicious ways.
A wolf in sheep's clothing
Does not make you brave.'

And out of the darkness
Angel heard a cry
Of a little girl in pain
Coming toward the light.

'Oh Child, come to me
Rid this darkness from your eyes
Together we will fly away
God has blessed your very life'

The girl ran up and hugged the angel
And up and up they flew.
They left that city of sin and pain
And what else only God and the Devil knew