blake-watson
American
I loved to write poems when I was very young. My imagination was far better then. My poems seem to fall into two types. One is playful and and has a moral. The other is a kind of self-exploration that usually winds up in a gray area rather than finding a definite answer. / / I have a severe, progressive disability. I am a religious person. I believe in an absolute truth and an absolute good. I think personal liberty is a must, but I think that mankind abuses it. I teach myself as much as I can about design so that I can be a better Web designer. I try to appreciate things even if I don't like them. / / I want to live up to God's standards, but I believe it is impossible to do so without His Son.
Kids,
Stay young as long as you can.
You have inquisitive minds.
You're not afraid to make mistakes.
You have creative spirits.
But as you grow up, the world will try to take these things away from you.
They will call you dumb if you ask too many questions.
When you make mistakes, they will call you a failure.
They will squander your creativity.
Don't let them.
Albert Einstein made scientific breakthroughs in physics because he never stopped asking "Why?".
Thomas Edison perfected the light bulb because he wasn't afraid to make mistakes.
Leonardo da Vinci made some of the best art in history because he refused to let his creativity die.
Adults are really just big kids who have forgotten how to have fun.
Try to remind them from time to time.
Jun 23, 2011
Jun 23, 2011 at 2:05 PM UTC
I dwell on an island.
It’s sunny and bright.
It’s lined by the blue water’s foam.
My house, my possessions,
Are here in plain sight.
But the island is far from my Home.
I look all around me.
Creation I see.
Trees sway and the animals roam.
I will stay here for now,
But soon, I will leave.
For this island is far from my Home.
Corruption is here too,
I’m sad to affirm.
There’s danger when out on your own.
I must take the right paths,
And make the right turns.
Since the island is far from my Home.
We’re here on the island,
With Good and with Bad.
And sometimes we feel all alone.
We can be comforted,
Because we all know,
That the island is far from our Home.
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 8:10 PM UTC
The breath of God gave Adam life.
And he did the Garden receive.
But Adam was alone, without a wife.
And so God gave him Eve.
When His people were as slaves,
God sent plagues to set them free.
But they could not get across the waves.
So God parted the sea!
Jericho had a mighty wall,
So the Israelites found.
They said it was thick, and much too tall.
And so God tore it down!
When they fought against the giant,
They wondered which man to deploy.
Their foe was big, strong, and violent.
So God sent a boy.
Man always acted out of line.
From sin he couldn't run.
But the love of God is pure, divine.
And so He sent His Son.
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 8:08 PM UTC
I look out the window.
The raindrops cloud my view.
They drizzle down the window,
But are quickly replaced by the new.
The raindrops lead to a peace,
And the peace leads to reflection.
Life could have lead a different path;
Taken a different direction.
From birth, a weight was given to me;
That I shouldn’t freely go about.
Gradually, its effects amplify.
And it continues, without a doubt.
A half of my soul is missing.
Tangled in its greed, it fled.
The half still here, it doubled.
And the other, it is dead.
“If” surfaces now and then,
But usually hides from sight.
Memory is read-only.
So I read, but never write.
The raindrops remain in the window.
And though they cloud the view,
The light still pierces through them,
As the day begins anew.
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 8:08 PM UTC
Long ago, in a far away place
There was a tiny planet in the depths of space
All of its people were all the same
They were all the same color, and bore the same name
An asteroid from space hit the planet one day
And dust came about and went on its way
All around the planet, they were covered with dust
And when they washed it all off, they were left in disgust
It was horrible, like nothing they had seen
For now all the people were blue, pink, or green
Prejudice set in, they couldn’t get along
If the pink said they were right, the blue said they were wrong
The green wouldn’t eat with the blue or the pink
If a green ship was sinking, the blue let it sink
They cooked different foods, they played different games
All the people were different, nothing was the same
But there was one blue person who was loving and nice
He traveled the world to give out his advice
“We used to get along, or have you forgotten?”
“We’re not that different, we have plenty in common.”
“We all like to laugh, and have a good time”
“We like to read poems and hear a good rhyme”
“Variety is good, it can paint a great scene”
“Some houses can be blue, others can be green”
They all had to admit the idea wasn’t bad
Besides, they would have a lot more fun then they’ve had
They all made a promise to forget their harsh past
The blue, pink, and green people came together at last
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 8:05 PM UTC
As he walked along the peaceful shore,
He reflected on years past.
It didn’t turn out like he wanted.
“How did it go by so fast?”
Another step, another memory,
It consumed him like a flame.
So many things he wished to take back.
So many things fueled his shame.
It could not be his fault, he shouted!
He did the best he could do.
What happened to his trustworthy Guide,
Who promised to see him through?
The sun was blazing in from the West.
He turned to cover his face.
He saw two shadows cast behind him.
Was he alone in this place?
It struck him like a bolt of lightning!
Of course he was not alone.
It was his Guide, his wonderful Friend!
Oh, how he wished he had known.
His Friend never led in this journey.
He was never in front at all!
He always followed, stayed behind him,
To catch him when he would fall.
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 8:04 PM UTC
Hey, I'm miles away from Earth
I'm up in space
I'm drifting toward a frightful unknown place
To prove that what I saw was real not fake
Hey, the oxygen's not getting to my brain
It's wandering, my thoughts cannot refrain
From drawing Martians who traverse the red terrain
Building their canals
I hope it rains
I hope it rains
Hey, I could turn around and go the way I came
I've burned up all my fuel
I need a flame
The gravity is pulling me away
And I drift closer
Closer
Closer
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 8:02 PM UTC
Our life is a winding road,
A constant up hill battle.
Each day presents a new challenge.
Everyday has its own struggles.
We do not have the privilege of going through hard times.
Rather, we live through hard times.
But there are those who share the burden.
There are those who take the load.
They are the men and women of MDA Camp,
Who sacrifice a week of every year,
To set a standard of compassion,
By which all should follow.
Their selfishness is nonexistent.
Their selflessness is overwhelming.
It has long since been said that,
“Our camp is your kind of place.”
So, to the men and women of MDA Camp,
We thank you!
If not directly by words,
Then through the great time we have each year.
Keep the fire burning,
And may the spirit of MDA Camp forever live.
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 8:00 PM UTC
This is the story of Old Man Jenkins
Old, yes, but he never felt that way
If being young meant being corrupt, he’d have no part
Stubborn, he wouldn’t change his ways
He would simply avoid this new perverse world
To keep himself in the good ol’ days
The days when neighbors looked out for each other
When you knew your mailman’s name
When men held the door for ladies
And success didn’t have to mean fame
He reminisced of days when a living was honest
When families had a father and a mother
When talking in person was the best was to talk
And one shirt was as good as another
But oh how they teased him,
They’d say “He’s just an old man”
And they’d compare his brain
To a lone grain of sand
They said he wasn’t modern or up with the times
They said he was ignorant and out of his mind
They would try to make him angry
Hounding him over and over again
But Old Man Jenkins was the gentlest of souls
And returned only a wrinkled grin
You see, he wasn’t mad or crazy
And he minded not their scorn
He had been storing up a better treasure
Since the very day he was born
After he left this world, they realized
They saw how bad they were wrong
They longed to tell him they were sorry
But the time for that had come and gone
It may be myth, but one once said
And others have repeated it since then
That the gentle soul of Old Man Jenkins
Smiled on them with a wrinkled grin.
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 7:57 PM UTC
A drop of water landed on my head today
It told me of its trip fantastic
From the mountain to the sea
And back again
He didn't go alone
He had is friends and we win
When we take it on together
Drop of water, teach us
What we do not know
Where little drops come from
And where they go
From the tops of mountains
To the floor of the sea or up in a tree
Where they fall purposefully to the ground
As I spoke another hit my hand
It finished the tales of the first
It took no time to answer
What I said
And they kept on falling
From the sky a grand return
Just to start it all again
A drop of water landed on my head today
But for once I paused to hear
That from places far and near
They fall down on me
They fall not to slow my pace
They're our friends and we win
When we bring ourselves together
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 7:50 PM UTC