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L T Caulfield Jan 2021
Never tell me that Man is without righteousness! When a brother gives away his treasured toy to help heal his weakened sister.
When a daughter lends her hand to help her brother.
When a Mother gives her very life to feed her children.
Never tell me the hour of Men is gone.
I’ve seen it and I cry with it.
Who dares say it? Who dares say we have lost? The gone and apathetic do. Come now and be found.
Join me and we will never be lost even in death  we will not taste of it.
evil will for it is their only food.
L T Caulfield Sep 2019
When did we forget how to be ourselves?
Maybe when we learnt of shoulds;
Or when their eyes became dull,
And tiredly mocked us
Because they were fearful of sticking
out themselves.
Creating a vicious circle
Of downcast eyes.
I like sore thumbs better than
Cowards who’ve lost their individuality.
I’ve lost some too thats why I stutter and reread
Instead of flowing.
I miss dancing by myself in crowds.
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
It rises up slowly
from the water breathing air
pristinely white
Haiku
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
Justice is a fruit of freedom,
which taste sweet upon the lips of the righteous.
Tyranny is a bug that degeneratly bites the plant before its fruition,
while robbing men of his labors and good things
that are rightfully his.
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
I've seen a cow
used against his will,

and plants packaged
as we willed.

Have we gone beyond
what we are

not what we've assumed
ourselves to be?

I've aged
and slumbered,
but now I am awake.

Looking to hard I've stumbled
only to re-stand again.
Reflecting upon the lake
I'm humbled.
Dont take these words for granted.
Although forgotten, not unknown.
An old knowledge
is held within and without me.
Unbeknownst and profound
it's where I found myself.
L T Caulfield Jan 2021
Oh my lovely Women, who are far to accommodating to me.
Without you we Men would be little.
Your eyes see the far, the little and all between.
We are blessed to have you.
I can’t wait for the day to rest peacefully with you.
Take my hand and sit with me it is all I’ll ever ask. I Love you
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
What have we done?
We plucked the apple from its place.
Its vivid reds begin to turn.
Should we have left it where it hung?
Fruits in sacks for profits sake.
From something more we've made a game.
Though in futility have never won.
Instead of enjoying we make it a race,
while covering her pure skin in lace.
Our forest fell and now burn.
The smoke is agitating my lungs.
Cities pollute our pristine lakes.
The ignorance of a few is now far flung.
Pray to christ for we are lame.
Yet you I will not blame
before myself because I've acquiesced.
No longer! Run with me,
and we'll correct our past mistakes.
Ridding ourselves of pestilence
togeather lets build a future beyond all imagining.
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
Have we picked and plundered beyond our necessities?
If so why have we not been content?
To grasp for more may be human, but to sit humbly is divine.
The joy we ache for is not found in power, nor is it found as we know to search.
It's as a plant grows or a man developes. Partaking in infinity like a subtle glimpse.
Here we will find sanctity.
Here we will find life beyond death, and knowing will forever be free and thankful.
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
Afraid of careless gambles, on drunken nights,     only learning after what I can afford.
Not with metals or worldly heights,
but with myself and who I wish to be.
What can we potentially embody
after placing darkness back in the void?
Striving to avoid a tempting wrong,
while thirsting to be wholly right.
Can we hear a sirens song,
while praying to be free from plight?
Im grasping to remember.
Well maybe we will live forever?
In which case I am righteous regardless,
yet maybe not then whats the difference?
Or maybe just not at this step
with such little temperance, but i think we will.
On a path ive seen the moon atop a hill,
with stairs aruin.
So many descended,
so far so little ascended back.
Luckily they remortered and redeemed the way.
This Way is great, past conception.
Its illusory lack shows us what to prune.
Lessons of unique complexion and importance.
Of most to me, atleast to a few.
Quite illogical I know. I think so do you.
Sleep no more lion lift your head from the dew.
Even though the truth is shrouded
it shines brighter than a sky unclouded.
Find the invisible, and you'll find all life,
beyond life, indivisible.
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
The taste of a berry
The chill of the night
Upon brooklyn's ferry,
Our faces shown with light.

Can you play the part?
Tasting, in life, a sweetness
Without focus on the ****.
Of your mind the world is a likeness.

In shy silence I sit
Without distraction, nor fit.
In silence with a white candle lit.
Calmness seems to enhance wit.

Symmetric lights in my head.
An abstract reaction
To the enormity of life
Which we see just a portion.

Don't contort out of fear.
Stretch yourself beloved dear.
Soon we'll reach out
Beyond what we know.
Beyond all boundaries
Of friend and of foe
Of bodies and space
Soon we'll speak truely
Without pretension
Falsities, and convention.
Soon we'll listen so well
We won't need to speak at all.
Don't worry
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
In autumn as the leaves fall,
my hand is placed in hers.
Shes wearing green-yellow eyes,
and a green paisley shawl.
The Creator of All
,with her subtle grace, concurs.
Her beauty is whole.
The brilliance of her form
only a reflection of pure soul,
and this purity can be seen
exampled by her life.
I pray that you may know her
so you may taste what heavens like.
Heed my words," be like her!",
and even on earth
there shall be no strife.
L T Caulfield Apr 2018
The hours, of the day, proceed so fast when you stay up the night before. As the light comes, it brings a calm insightfulness much different then when you first awaken from sleep. A pensive recognition that comes as if the previous day were a lifetime, and soon it is noon again. Time was forgotten untill I looked upon that wretched regimental clock, and while it keeps things in order I wish to be free from it. What if all our minds weren't so convinced of time as we know it? Like a trap it keeps me stuck. All around the house I see those numbers and they hold me down. How much more lovely would existance be without contrived and man made things? I want to be fresh like when God first made Adam. Maybe even before that when there was no day or night.

— The End —