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The wheels on
the wagon rattled
down a mountainous
path. Through the
trees you could
       see the still fires
       burning charcoal
       and sap. The moon
       shine was heavily
       guarded it was
one hundred proof
if not more. Her
brother was ******
*******, after all
that's what kin folk
were for. Her pappy
        taught her to make
        white lightning, she
        worked for the sweat
        of her brow. She
knew the grip of the
law was a tightening
she had to make her
delivery some how.
        She carried a map
        of the county, she
        knew where to hold
        up and hide. She knew
on her head was a
bounty but she never
broke down and cried.
She had a good reputation
      along with a very good
       head. In her there was
       no degradation, she
slept with a gun in
her bed. Some folks
just called her Maddy
she was the pride of
      her town, sometimes
      you'll catch her drinking
      moonshine, when ever
      the law ain't around.
Time Traveler

    A crazy thought just passed through
My brain and I’ve blown my own mind
Now the following words are just for
Thought and they are unrefined

For I have yet to process anything
Because there’s so much that I don’t know
But with each word typed the seconds
Slip away and none can we stow

Understand that my brain thinks randomly
I try never to do things deceptively
I’m a man of honor and pride myself
On my honesty and my integrity

So as I share this information please
Don’t put me off as being crazy
I don’t take any drugs that would
Leave me feeling light and hazy

So here goes nothing, I travel time
And my theory is we all do
For there is no true present
I know what you’re thinking koo coo

Maybe you could be right
Because I can’t present it technically
And nothing I say can change anything
But our decisions can change our destiny

So as the past slips away with each breath
We inhale of the air in our atmosphere
We experience no real present because each
Exhale is in the future like a time traveler

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 01/20/2022
All rights reserved
It was 1982 my father
wound up dead. I dont
know the demon who
put a price upon his
head. It was my mother
who found him, his
face she said looked serene.
My father was a proud
man, he was a bad *** marine.
Some days I wonder who
did this, he died before
his time. The facts were
also so unclear, the words
just didn't rhyme. If I could
give him his justice then
I would make it known
that I would induce an eye
for an eye with my heart
as hard as stone. There
is a punishment coming
that Iv'e heard people
tell. The wicked man
that killed my father will
suffer down in hell.
Between heaven and hell
theres a casym, I will go there
every day, to watch the man
who killed my father with
the God who made him pay.
Where is this all going?
Where will it all end?
Be thankful in this
precious life if you had
one good friend.
There is nothing in
this world that we
can get for free. Every
boy and every girl
were born with eye's
to see. While I was
walking down the
street a man did
approach. He asked
me for a cigerette I
told him I dont smoke.
later on that very
same man was driving
a brand new porche
it turned he was very
rich his daddy was a
morche.The moral of
this story we really
never know the score.
A little bit is not enough,
we all cry out for more.
So in time the man
died from cancer from
the cigerettes he smoke,
life can be a real big
game not meant to be
a joke. So remember
this suggestion do not
accept anything for
free. It may be the death
of you or maybe the
death of me.
  Jan 14 charlieboy
acacia
i see colors and i see the sparkles in people's eyes
i see the curiosity of why the sky is blue
and why the ocean is so deep
i get tickled by the way the grass nestles against my ankles
i still blush at the moon
i welcome the sun when i walk
i still pick up leaves, rocks, flowers and hold
them in free wonder, examining the beauty
and spiral of nature: don't you too?
i smile and through my mouth echoes sounds
similar to a toddler who is so amazed at the world around them
and still i find comfort in rolling around on
a fuzzy carpet on a floor, freeing and free
while i roll on blankets and become wide-eyed
at the bluejay i saw once again. i love the colors
that rotate on my ceiling and wall; i feel
free within the confines of these four walls
because i can be free inside and outside
i feel free from those things outside, i feel
apart of every mountain, sea, and shore
the stomach pains and the body aches
are the same when the rain comes
and when the wind blows
and when flowers die and grow
still, i am free, free, free
always free, i am always free
the satin of my pillow the feel of water
free in my mind mind and heart
and when i am myself, curious
and soaked in colors, i am free from here
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