If this simple write should prove to be my swan song , let it be duly noted that I left headstrong ! As the Drill Sergeant , leading green soldiers , the fearless non-commissioned officer , carrying the colors ! The Calvary , under direct fire , dressing the ranks , preparing the charge , advancing forward , committing what cries to be heard unto paper for all the world to address , exposing the draconian tyrants of prose , poetic blasphemers and the vile fabricators of plagiarism !

My daily motto
Your getting older now-
So why care for others gibberish,

Why worry for what's not to worry
I'm getting old, remember tommy?
Other's will always dislike or like you
Who cares and why worry?

How can they say America is united?
When in truth she is divided into so
many sides so many lines drawn into the sand
Rich vs poor
Republican vs Democrate
White vs black
What ever happened to the American dream?
But then again America was built on division.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum

As Olive Spectrum lay on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person.  She thought her life would never end like this.  Olive's tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent slithering with snakes.  Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate.  It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral.  Upset at the thought of being late for work Olive floored the gas pedal.  As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic.  Olive hoped she didn't get a ticket.  I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of Funny Man.  Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't get stopped by the police.  Thought Olive as she sped past the other drivers.  As Olive Spectrum pulled into the BNB parking lot she checked the time.  "It's 7:55am.  I made it within five minutes" said Olive.  Getting out of her car Olive walked through the bank's glass doors.  As the time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public.  One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face.  Mmmmm yummy thought Olive as she walked up to the tall light skin man.  "Hello sir how can I help you?" asked Olive as she eyed the man up and down.  "My name is Akurra Wings.  I would like to open a checking and a savings account" answered the tall light skin man.  "Mr. Wings please follow me to my office" said Olive.  As Olive and Akurra sat in Olive's office filling out papers Olive made it up in her mind that she would get to know Akurra on a personal level.  After a day's work Olive got behind the wheel of her BMW and started her drive home.  On her way home Olive called her best friend Jewel StoneWall.  "Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Olive with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her cellphone.  "I'm doing great Olive.  What's up?" answered Jewel StoneWall as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors.  "Are we still on for Saturday?" asked Olive.  With a confused look on her face Jewel ask "Is the day Friday already?"  "Yeah girl what day did you think it was?" responded Olive.  "To tell you the truth Olive I thought the day was Thursday" said Jewel.  "No Jewel it's Friday.  I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon" said Olive.  "You better be thankful.  I'll talk with you later Olive" said Jewel.  "Ok bye Jewel" said Olive.  Olive Spectrum was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life.  She always looked forward to Saturday.  A day she would spend at the Golden Scissor getting her hair done and talking with Jewel StoneWall her childhood friend.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum

Glorious morning dew...
On each leaf of grass,
On each leaf of the trees,
Covering the window shields,

But...

If only I can **** the undying noise;
The mowers near and far,
The mechanical birds overhead,
The storming of vehicles on the highways.

Still...

What glorious morning dew!

I am not here.
I do not exist.

Before I proceed,
I must apologize,
For I have made this about me,
But...
It is all I know at the moment.

They will not hire me,
Neither will they accept the line I have thrown.
They will not inquire to find out what I could offer.

This is not a complaint.
I am merely stating what is obvious...to me!

Talent, language, and skill,
These are insufficient!
Might as well do away with me.
Just be rid of the unnecessary,
And all will be just peachy.

I am not here.
I do not exist.

It is possible to live
at a remove so mesmerizing
so glacial blue
the narrow crevasse
opening beneath
your careless toes
swallows you
grinding past - present - future
until there is no you
only time
       a tumbled moraine
                               a shrinking river.

Do you hear them coming, thronging,
Leaping o'er the steeps  of light,
Clad  in glorious , shining garments,
Blood-washed garments, pure and bright.

'Tis a glorious Church , without spot or wrinkle,
Adorned as the Bride of the Lamb,
'Tis a glorious Church without spot or wrinkle,
Adorned as the Bride of the Lamb,

Do you hear the stirring anthems,
Filling all the earth and sky?
'Tis a grand, victorious army,
Lift its banner up on high!

News fear the clouds of sorrow,
Never fear the storms of sin,
We shall triumph on the morrow,
Even now our joys begin.

Wave the banner , should His praises,
For our victory is high !
We shall join our congu'ring  Saviour,
We shall reign with Him on high.

When did you grow old?
I blinked and missed it.
The years were surely
Only seconds in time.
As the grand old trees
Embrace the winter
With the grim resolve
Of that which cannot be avoided,
I find myself wondering,
And fearing,
When the leaves shall fall
For the final time.

i.

Her affection I needeth
To sustain mine living's;

ii.

Her smile I beseecheth
Which is vital to mine breathing;

iii.

Her laughter is mine medication
The herb to mine being;

iv.

Her blood everafter
Is lifeforce, is life to mine eyesight and seeing;

v.

Her loyalty meaneth the world
O' how perfect she is a woman, the image of a queen, a real girl;

vi.

Her amour' is the path on which I abode
O' mine wife, mine soulmate and life, without thee I wouldst not be whole;


©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley-Filipino rose dedication
©Lonesome poets poetry