I would walk away
With you
Coz our love is true
I never knew
What all you've been through
But I will always
Love you
No matter how hard
Life gets
No matter how many times
My pillow gets wet
I will never give up
Never, give up on you
You are the light
Shining in my dark days
A passionate flame
Burning, dancing in its realm
Don't hide away
Like I did, once
I paid the price
Then to never see you, for months
I am not perfect
Darling, beneath this shadow mask
Are you the same love
Won't you ever ask?
It's not a dream, O' no
Let's dance in this rain
For once more
Let me take away your worries and pain
Coz I will always love you
Just the way you are...



©sim

I laid my head down on my book
and heard a heartbeat
as though the spine had breath
and the words were alive.

Words tattoo memories and love stories,
make heroes out of commoners,
make monsters out of men.
Words twist love into lies.

Words are weapons
that live and last, breathe and beat.
For even when their maker dies,
the damnable have been written into immortality.

I sometimes feel like...
a wobbly tornado
making my way
what ever direction the wind blows
with back and forth motion
and no way of knowing
how destructive the path
that I am flowing

I sometimes feel like...
a wave on the ocean
tossed back and forth
in erratic motion
the salt from my tears
help with my knowing
how shallow or deep
these days I am coping

I sometimes feel like...
a cloud in the sky
while on top of things
some still pass me by
dealing with fluff
in the midst of this life
amongst other stuff
as I look to the sky

I sometimes feel like...
the wildest of flowers
in a field filled with weeds
passing the hours
wanting someone to come along
and pull me out
or take a sling blade
and cut us all down

I sometimes feel like...
a musician on tour
I know that I'm here
but at times why, I'm not sure
could be any number of things
between the why's and what for's
but one things for sure
I feel like all this and more

What lesson do our children learn
when watching children
****** children in their classrooms
what value do we give their education
when seperating best friends forever
by filling one heart with grief
and putting the other one in its early grave
what child needs to know
the weight and velocity
of the bullets that tore
their once safe world apart

how many tears will it take
to drown out the greed
that allows the trigger of the gun
to be in such an easy place to reach
and the moment of silence has had its turn
and though it may have brought
some small comfort
it did not take the pain away

now we must raise our voices
for the dead
we must raise our voices
for those who have not yet died
we must raise our voices
and we must be loud
louder than the money exchanging hands
louder than the bullets and the bangs
and louder than the rat-a-tat-tat
machine guns song

its more than a matter of safety or control
its the value of the education
we too often forget
forget to teach
forget to remember
forget to live by
the education of kindness
the value of generosity
the need of empathy
the lesson and the gift of love

that we are all the same
no matter our birthplace
no matter what flag we sleep under
no matter what name we whisper
when we offer our prayers
and our hopes
we are all the same
we all live in the same house
no matter how many walls divide us
no matter the mountains between us
no matter the oceans that separate us

we are all in one house
and we are all connected
by the one thing
the only thing
we need to both give
and to receive  
the lesson and the gift of love

let us teach this first
before anything else
because without it
the education we give our children
will continue to be washed away
with the lives of all the children
that we fail to save

i try not to blame her
she makes you happy
and if you deserve anything
it is to be happy but
every time i see your eyes light up at her
brighter than they ever did at me
there’s a pang of aching jealousy that
hits me and my stomach drops to the floor
i wish i could be her
i wish i had her long blond hair,
perfectly shaped lips and thin hips
i wish i could’ve made you as happy as
she makes you.

soon i’ll be gone from your memory
i’d like to say the same for you of mine but
i know the thought of you kissing her will be
enough to keep me up at night for weeks

it’s not her fault, it’s not her fault, it’s not her fault
(is it mine?)

GRAMPA THE SOFT BALL PLAYER
                ………by Jerry Howarth
                             5/26/16
Grampa is a legend in the softball world
He was voted into the Softball Hall of Fame
When ever  Grampa was scheduled to pitch
It  broke the attendance record every game.

Grampa was a  fast ball pitcher
For the Perry Baptist church team.
He was having fun, just messing around,
But with every game Grampa picked up steam.

He began to experiment releasing the ball,
making it curve left & right, drop and rise,
He even learned to make a  slow pitch,
Making it difficult for the batter’s eyes

Grampa had a favorite trick he loved to play  The crowd thought it was super great!
The ball started out fast then changed slow
“How slow did it get Grampa?”  “So slow
the batter swung three times before it crossed the plate.

Well Grampa’s pitching became so well known
The  major leagues began competing with                   many others,
Offering Grampa  Millions of dollars.

Grampa developed a fast ball so fast that…
“How fast was it, Grampa Parson?”
It was so fast it was beyond measur’n.

Now Grampa had what he called his
Roller coaster pitch that no one could ever hit
It was such a crazy pitch, he had it patented
So no one else could copy and use it


Grampa was now playing  on a professional team, making over a million bucks a year,
His agent made a deal for $20,000 a game
Every time he pitched a no hitter


Every game he played was a no hitter,
Thanks to his patented pitch
At $20,000.00 a game
Grampa was getting really, really rich!

But back to Grama’s special  pitch,
It was greatly irritating to every batter
They were determined to knock that ball
Right down Gramp’s kooka-defrater

Hear the crowd yelling, whistling, and clapping
Coming up to bat is the world home run king!
Here it comes, that, fast, slow pitch
The home run king gives three mighty swings.

Three strikes an yer out, the rules of the game
It’s the first time in the history of soft ball fast pitch, that a batter strikes out  on
just one pitch

This poem cannot end without a mention
About Grampa batting power  
That’s right, Grampa hit a ball so hard,
It sailed about a thousand miles or so
It broke out a window in the Trump Tower.
YEAH It did! And broke Donald’s  favorite champagne drinking glass.

Well this is enough humble bragging about
When Grampa G. E. Parson was a Grandson
And I hope the reading of this poem
Was a lot of fun !
                              -Grampa G.E. Parson