Now in Scotland there’s a legend
of a family; name of Bean
Cannibals they were
a clan of robbers and real mean

‘Twas a distant cousin; passed
that left him all of these
A cache of notes for cooking
secret family recipes

Killer stands there at the station
the rail-coach pulls away
One lone figure stands in shadow
Silhouette in fading day

Come with me, my cousin
The light is fading fast
We’ve a ways to go
while the daylight lasts

hell forbidden
trash up the shimmer
the clasp of lights that hinder

cast upon the fiery mirage
the ghosts of angels die
side slip like a lock
your sacred soul the pearl
notch

handled smooth
and fleeting like a folded
wing

at my hip
you sigh

begin to speak......

Just to hold a pebble
quietly, in my hand

may not seem important
‘less one was stuck in sand.

How important a conversation
if one was all alone,

without replies or feedback
one would stir to quest, his own.

Just to see a child's eyes, razzle
Because of the butterfly on her hand !

it’s remarkable for what one yearns
no one could ever understand.

Just to hold a pebble
because you handed it to me,

we’ll forever share that moment, rare
individually for eternity.

V
The shafts of silver starry light
like lucent blades of silver bright
by smiths were fashioned long ago.
The folk of Wondosimodo    
who oft found joy in labour long,        5
had waded forth in solemn song
with naked feet and woven gown.
On each brow was a silver crown.
They held their hair in woven locks
behind their overflowing frocks.        10
Out to the sea of scattered lights
the smiths went on beyond all sight
to fashion from the fiery sea

heaven is not on earth. ......(not yet.)? some feel still...

believe what you may…. there is no heaven in an unknown place ….a heaven that you profess …none has ever seen ….nor been …..

the earth is the place Lord ….God so kindly made… if you can't create… nor equate it with a heaven ….why steps of altars you pace …

the Lord hath given you a chance ….to dwell just once …
make earth heaven or hell ….tis up to us ….

and
you too… who preach beyond those….
then unearthed skies ….

The valley grew silent; amid darkened soil
Just under the surface complete turmoil
pushing aside waste of times gone by
a blade shaped leaf for you and I

The green sword darkened, piercing the day
it feared not to spoil the coal dust decay
to show the world how wrong they had been
It sent a perfect stem through shards of green

A growth so strong with buds more than three
A reminder of you, and your white purity
For us to see, then for us to show
This flower so pure for us grow

A kindergartener sang a song
about Jesus for a talent show.
The audience buzzed with
a loud agreement
of how simply adorable
the girl sounded and looked
as she spouted her words
about how Jesus loved her
and our bodies are weak
but Jesus is strong.

A flash of panic
A muffled scream
I wake up sweating
But it’s just a dream
I press my hands over my eyes
Put my hand to my mouth
To smother my cries
For just a few minutes I was back in that place
And I heard those words
And I saw that face
The night is quiet
But for the beat of my heart
I think I hear splintering
As its crumbles apart
New friends a new school
I try not to dwell
But my subconscious is cruel
Brings me back to the hell
I close my eyes
It takes me away

With quill in hand I fell to sleep
and drifted into a new land
where boogums,quarks and memories creep
with past and future both at hand.

I chased a snark down a worm hole
for light years to a distant world
and saw strange ruins, age untold
where helicopter bird wings twirled.

Amid the ruins beings crept
painting poems upon thin air
where it seemed the sad words wept
mourning a past no longer there.

Wanted to write a poem about respect
but having trouble controlling my mind
the poem turned political

No, can't do that, the words that come to mind
unacceptable, afraid I will find out MIBS are real
Oh, what the hell

WAKE UP AMERICA, WHERE IS YOUR BACKBONE
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH
CAN'T YOU HEAR THE SOUNDS OF DRUMS ON THE WIND