With all the good intentions,
Let's watch it die,
Burn our smoke to the heavens,
From machine's roaring so loud,
Sever the oceans,
And all that dwells inside,
And with all good intentions,
Let's weep with a smile,

With all good intentions,
Let us count our grace,
Its all about profit to us,
So by all means let's keep up the pace,
**** all the forests and trees,
Just so we can have money for a change,
With all good intentions,
Let's forsake tomorrow for today,

Don't get me wrong,
Am all for that capitalism ****,
Its all about survival,
So don't waste a moment, think
If the earth gets warmer,
That's why we invented ACs
With all good intentions,
Let's be men by all means,

With all good intentions,
Mother nature can take care of her own,
She's always been here,
A billion years and may be more,
Why help her get on her feet,
When our years are running low,
By all means baby,
Let's take from her what she owns,

With all good intentions,
Life is all but too short,
We got the tech to save us,
Escape to mars and what not,
Why stress about the floods and crops that fail to grow,
We can **** nature, print meals and grow spurts,

By all means let's live like fools,
Forget the science coz the world is just me and you,
"Its not our problem" if some creature won't live to see the next full moon,
Let's drink wine and celebrate our alternative truth,

With all good intentions,
Let the message hit your ear,
If this had ever cross your mind then better listen my dear,
The earth is home, food and shelter that you need not seek coz its already here,
Don't tempt to waste today,
For tomorrow that might never be there.

The cracked corners of her spoken too many times mouth bent just far enough upward to be called a smile
Teeth yellow from a coping mechanism you can't quite understand yet
Holding back each breathe just enough
For it it were not for the power in her lungs I wouldn't be here

She says "Boy you just don't understand"

Four years later,
This jigsaw puzzle is slowly compiling itself into a fading picture
54 years of back breaking uphill climbs
Two children who are still on a search to become men
Zero men that deserved her heart
A single mother conquering the branded arms of poverty
Days weaving together begging for refuge
Finding empty responses

She is the shore being abused by the ocean
Never once asked consent for what the body of water has taken
Her framework eroding from view
She has given too much too fast and it will not be given back

Cancer has a funny way of taking something that does not belong to it
Ending stories before they are finished
Cutting to the credits earlier than expected
We are powerless power lines being controlled by the wind

Four year later I hear her saying
"Boy you just don't understand"
You are right mother
I still do not understand
Why you are not here

Someday I’m going to learn to speak up!
I swear I’m going to proudly reach up
And take back what is truly mine
And that day will be fine.

Someday I’m going to tell all the people
What I think that the bad people
Should not  be allowed to do
Like commit crimes on you.

I’m going to let people know exactly how I feel
And not silently pretend things aren’t real
That are hurting, denying, robbing
My fellow human beings.

Today I am going to change things
And appreciate what life brings.
Listen when the birds sing.
And what poets are writing.

Someday I am going  to raise my voice and sing out
Whenever there’s something to sing about
Even when there just seems to be
Something important to me.

How many round trips between a fire and a water supply would it take to put out said fire if it takes 5.5 gallons to extinguish it and you have a 1 gallon bucket?

Orsemas Caldwell
was a curious old man
who lived deep
within Elderwood forest.
Everyday he'd gather
branches and boughs
to cook his dinner
and warm himself
inside the drafty,
dusty cabin
he called his home.

I clearly remember
the night he invited
my wife and I over
for biscuits and tea.
We left our car
at the entrance
of the single-file
footpaths that led
into the darkened
shroud and stillness
of his forest.

We sat at an ancient
wooden table covered
with the inscriptions
of hundreds of writings
from decades past.
I remember his wrinkled
trembling hands as they
set down the tea
he had dried for us,
I believe it was chamomile
with a hint of lavender.

We talked about a great
many things, but nothing
made his eyes light up
like when he told us
about his wife, Percilla.
They were ministers
at the old baptist church
until they retired to their cabin
in Elderwood forest.
Young lovers again, they'd
lay under the trees and laugh.

He showed us her picture
and smiled remembering.
I could hear in his voice
the sweetness of their love
and a longing for reunion.
I don't remember much more
than his words that echoed
in my head as we drove
back to our modern day
amenities, holding
one another's hands:

'Don't let one thing
come between you.
You are one flesh,
you are not two.
Don't let children,
or money, ambition,
or your vocation
come between you
and the one God gave you.'
This is the memory of
Orsemas Caldwell.

The marriage of sunshine and seawater
turned to bristling diamonds is a form of communication , a plea from an alien nation , a call for a congregation* ...