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Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Heaven And Hell


Heaven and Hell

It occurred to me this morning
As I trudged across the snow,
That heaven's not so far away
And Hell's a place I know.

Heaven's where I go at night
When I'm curled up and warm,
The world's asleep, it's quiet and
I climb inside a poem.

It doesn't matter who, or where
Or when the tale occurs,
What matters is that I'm transported
To a magic world.

Where who I am, and what I dream,
Flow freely, taking shape,
And come life, in color
 On a far, enchanted page.

And all the love that's in my heart,
The playful fun things too,
Become as real as how I feel
Whenever  I'm with you.

And even if I cannot stay 
Where rainbow dreams come true,
My heart still beats
When 'er I  read
About a sky so blue,
And dream of gazing in stream, 
So clear and cool and deep. 

Beneath majestic, sweeping clouds,
That crown great mountain tops,
Where two dear, Snow White turtle doves
Sing softly, of their love.

And in the emerald valley 
That rolls gently, far bellow, 
One thousand  brilliant butterflies 
Dance gently, to and fro. 

Over a sea of wildflowers, 
Decked in colored crowns, 
Reflecting sunlight's golden rays
Like jewels upon the ground.

And everything that's beautiful;
Kindness, hope and peace
Fill the world until there's 
No place  left for pride, or grief.

Here's where I can freely be 
 Just who I am, inside,
An endless spring of happiness,
A spirit soaring high!

Heaven's where my soul exists,
But Hell is where I'm living,
And I can't seem to find my way
Back to the beginning.

Back to when it was so clear
The best gifts come  from giving.
And hell turns into heaven when
We let out heart start living. 

And so I'm back to writing rhymes,
About my favorite place and time,
And dreaming of the heaven that
I find inside a rhyme. 

Sunday, February 9, 2014

T William P.U.

T. William P.U. 

There was a young man 
Not too big, or too tall, 
Who lived in Pugkipsee  
(Not a clean town at all.) 

One  morning my  friend 
 T. William P.U.
Accidentally stepped 
In some new doggy- doo

While hopping and skipping 
On his way to school. 

He tried to swipe it 
On Mrs. B's  yard,  
But the $h!t wouldn't stick,  
(So he tried on  her car.) 
 
And while some got lodged
'Tween the grills and the hood,
The  chrome was still show'n
(Which was not very good.)

But, then as he walked on,  
Willy spied, on the line 
A lacy white shirt 
That she'd hung out dry 
 
Well....

The shirt got all gooey,
Brown grass stains, and foo-ey
But the poo-stuck like glue 
To the cracks and the grooves

That were carved  in the shoe, 
Of T. William P.U. 
Who thought long and hard 
About what he should do....

And after about 
A moment or two 
He frog-leaped the  fence 
And jumped into the pool

Belonging to Mrs. B's 
Neighbor, O'Tool, 
Who happened to be 
Willy's teacher, at school.

Well, the water got muddy, 
Banana fudge, runny, 
It soaked through his sox  
Which by now, were quite gummy. 

(But as He looked down 
Willy's  blue shoes were 
brown! 
And the prints that they made 
Looked like doody-fudge-ade. )

So, he tried running fastly,  
All up-down the street, 
Frontways, then sideways, 
While dragging his feet, 

But the poo on his shoe, 
Just grew and it grew,
As the sticky shoe gunk 
Started picking up junk. 

Like milk duds and marbles 
And gobs of green gum, 
Pop tops and papers, 
And chocolates with rum. 

One squirrel, two kittens, 
A bird's nest, six bees, 
Five lanterns, a kite, 
(On his way up a tree.) 

A pigeon got nabbed 
Along with two geese, 
While they pecked at a trash-pickle- 
Sandwich, with cheese. 

And as He kept running
All through that small town, 
A crowd starting forming, 
As word spread around-

"T. William P.U. 
And his magical shoes, 
Are cleaning the city" 
They said, in the news. 

"Those shoes that he's wearing, 
Have some kind of spell, 
That cleans our whole city, 
( But what IS that smell?!) " 

And as he arrived 
At the outskirts of town, 
Poor Willy was zonked
So he had to sit down 

But those shoes with the poo, 
Had grown past twelve feet tall, 
And each seat he tried sitting
Upon, was too small.

'Till at last, he did  plop
Atop a great rock  
Took off those big shoes, 
And his gooey brown sox-

Then he picked himself up, 
On his bare, little feet, 
Walked home, got in bed, 
And fell right back asleep. 

And when he awoke, 
After three days and nights, 
Wee Willy was met 
With a giant surprise! 

The townspeople'd gathered;  
The mayor arrived, 
As they walked little Willy 
To the town square, outside.

And when the crowd stopped,   
They yelled "open your eyes!"

For they'd built a great statue  
To honor brave Willy 
The  hero who'd cleaned up 
Their once dirty city.  

And forever and after, 
Each bird, duck and goose, 
In Pugkipsee, had one special place 
They could poop. 

Friday, February 7, 2014

Balance


                           Balance

Choreographed chaos, ordered entropy, volcanic vulnerability, twisted grace with serpentine strength. 

Yin Yang, pendulously poised. 

Perfection. 

(Can someone take me home? Please?)