Turn turn
Bury your head in the sand
It seems as if God has
Forsaken this promised land
Is it failure of our leaders ?
Failure of faith?
Families in which there is no
Solid base?
Alcohol and drugs
Found in everyplace?
We are distant from, hope and our Lords grace.
As long as money can flow
Into pockets,  they'll use the poor
And sick to flock us.
They wish to separate faith from the masses,  by mocking us.
Divide to cause fear
Provide a dream that cannot be
Obtained
Consume and spend
The debt will never end
Hope has all but died
But greed keeps the machine alive.

This balloon can protect you from heat and rain
Hold tight to its string
and it can take you away..
don't fly too close to the sun,
it'll burn
that way.
This balloon is like life's problems, we can put energy
and substance in it
until it grows as big as a house.
Or, we can shrink it down,..
let the air out.
Place it in our pocket and carry it
easily around.
A story comes to mind of a young girl from a wealthy home who was asked what she wanted for Christmas.."a balloon!". Was what she answered.
Like Truman Capote wrote
" its a penny thing, but its pretty"
We can choose the color of our balloon,  make it see through and yet huge, where we fool ourselves everyday, that,
what we can't see, can still be in our way.  
Color your world vibrantly and take up space.
Color your ballon with passion and grace.
Let it float above,,
just like God's love.
A penny thing thats pretty.

Dancing and holding her
hips
the small bend of her back
That flat
full belly
It can't be matched
It can't be copied
We may lust for that
Power
We can fool ourselves into
Believing our bodies
Could be like a
Her
But none can design like
Nature
I walk with my arm around her waist
And I can smell her hair
And the nape of her neck
Delicate but strong
Not like a man at all
Amen

A long time from now
When you have turned
Purple and black
I will be high on a green dragon
Looking down
Not just at you
But at the many years that have passed

I will remember,  I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER
Had I asked you would have said "Yes"
And that you would hang in there .
Until the time you would see me,
Mounted high waving goodbye
On that magical dragon

If I only knew..I would've asked.

When does a person reach the point,,
Of enough
What atrocities
Must there be
When they've seen
Enough
It is
Not just  my country
Ending its cycle
But the spirit of that
Nation,
Being divided
By unknown traitors
Who knows where they hide
And to fight them is too shame
And to stand together never
Happens now
That they
Run the game
But this is no idle matter
It concerns all citizens
Democracy is dead
The body is buried in
The parchment
We nigh could agree
The Constitution
Should be remembered
Even if our country
Is dismembered.

I have an old bowl
I use it still
No reason to
Throw it
Away
It holds water
Or post , toasties
Whatever the
Meal
I steep my tea
In the vessel
Just to have room
For the leaves
To breathe
I never share
Out of it
After all ,,
It's mine
I keep it
Clean
Well, its good enough for me
A pitcher has a handle
A mug has depth
a bowl relies on my
Hands to maintain a grip
I put my hands together
And raise the rim to my lips
A motion much like praying
Especially when I  say grace
When I am gone
off
This mortal plane
And all my possessions
Are scattered to the wind
Whoever in their right mind
Would use my bowl
Again?