My first real job
was trying to glue
blown up teenagers
back together.
I was twenty, old.
I held them in my arms
and told them lies
while they cried and died.
Told them it was ok,
they were fine, going home.
Their spirits lodged in
the secret chambers
of my broken heart.
I can never forget.
Their faces stick
in in my brain
like photos in a wallet.
I will never forgive
those who sent us to die
and then treated us
like mad, pariah dogs
if we made it back.
But we knew what we knew.
He today who sheds
his blood with me
shall be my brother.
Brothers in arms.
Brothers forever.

A  poet was given
a life sentence today.

He'll be going the way
of Bob Marley and Frank Zappa.

I saw him perform
over the last few decades.
Hip he was and always will be.

In the ranks of Canadian poets,
his peers being  Gordon Lightfoot,
Leonard Cohen and Mister Neil Young.

He wrote about the Canadian Prairies,
about New Orleans sinking and nautical disasters.
All with soul and intellect.

A friend said,
"You didn't have to
Know know know him
to love love love him".
And that's true.

With a heavy heart I ponder the noon news.
I recall the day I heard of John Lennon's ******.

The only time I ever cried
over the death of a celebrity.

Thoughts and prayers out to you Gordie,
and your family and friends.

Ironically tragic for one so Tragically Hip.

Gendering Woman *******

Beautiful, anatomical part //  Ugly, anatomical part
Natural, pleasurable             //   Burdensome, loathsome
Female Symbolic                //    Femme Symbolic
MALIGNANT                             HEALTHY

fearful, tearful, wretched     //  joyful, hopeful, euphoric,
bereft, wept, grieving          //  embryonic, rapt, relieving
leaving, loss                         //  believing, gain
m a y b e - d e a t h                                            r e - b i r t h
                                                   BI-LATERAL
                                             MASTECTOMIES
Operating Theatre

SURGEON                                         ANAESTHETIST
cleaning/ cutting/ knife/ scalpel   //   doping/ unconscious/ airway
blood / tissue                                 //   hypotension
loss/ damage                                 //   shock
drains                                             //   sinus rhythm
stitches                                           //   pain deadening
tight binding                                 //   reversal drugs
                                    
POST-OPERATIVE
a l i v e                                                a w a k e

draining, bound & stitched               draining, bound & stitched
                                            DRAINED
    ­                                   ~ UNBOUND
                                       -- UNSTITCHED –

Empty chest                                                    Flat Chest
FREEDOM from Disease                               FREEDOM from Dis-ease


© M.L.Emmett

Hello any of Eddie's friends on HP or even you Christians who don't know Eddie from eddiestarrpoetry most know him and his wonderful writings on Jesus Christ ..  Eddie has been a friend to all of us, as he's been trying to show you the real way to live, life and love and forgiveness. And show you there is eternal life in Jesus Christ alone!!! A loving merciful Savior... Eddie wanted me to tell everyone why he hasn't been on HP lately. Reason is he got into some type of accident long ago don't know how it happened just know it messed up his brain, causing brain damage.   So he's been healed of having his life restored to him praise God!!! Though he still has been getting horrible head pains and it's making him sick and in pain... He's always praying for me and you and those he hasn't met on here to know yehsua ha'mashiach- ( meaning Jesus the Messiah) in Hebrew tongue... Jesus Christ!!! Eddie is truly a man of God and a loving forgiving man... Whether you respect him or dont respect him. Put that away for now and pray for his head is all I ask you that God may heal his headpains sorrows. Lonesomeness and that God made show Eddie gods will for edds life..   I hope others will pray for him and continue to pray for this man. Because he prays for all of you even ones he don't know he prays you come to know the one and only Savior a loving Jesus and forgiving Lord and king of kings... And God's only son who died for me and you... So this is why Eddie's not been on HP lots... Please pray for him if this message touches your heart and you want God to heal Eddie...for all things are for the good to those that love god...and God will do stuff in his time not ours... Humans always want things our way. We seem to forget were suppose to live for God's will and choices not our selfish wills. Hope and pray others may pray for eddiestarr. Thank you and by ending with that wanna write poetic prayer for Eddie not really poem. Lol just quick prayer for you Eddie!!!

Dear God, heavenly father ... I come to you today to ask for your healing and mercy upon my brother Eddie , God I ask you may touch Eddie's head... That you may heal whatever's happening with the pains in his brain and head .. I pray dear God you can heal Eddie from his toes to the top of his head. I pray Lord God for your anointing over Eddie. That your angels may be upon him, as well as your holy spirit may be sent to him in his times or lonesomeness, sorrow, pain physical mental emotional spiritual. God please give Eddie peace in all aspects of his life and I come to you today God. To heal Eddie fully that his life may be abundant and as once was... And God please show Eddie his purpose here on this earth before you take him LORD... Show Eddie you are in control and there's no reason to fear even in sickness. For you are the great healing physician dear God.  I beg ask and pray for your loving kindness over Eddie and mercy and grace. And your healing will come whether in Eddie's time or in your own. For me and Eddie know all things work together for good to those that love you dear God. Please guide Eddie in his hard times right now and sickness. I ask and pray and thank you Lord for hearing my prayer ...

In Jesus name I pray
Amen!!!

She tried to enjoy the most miraculous time of day just for me ,
but the storms cleansing through her into a frenzy , with cotton in her
ears so as not to hear the thunder , eyes fixed on the floor with a broom
nervously sweeping the tea room ! Crying out with each flash of lightning , calling "the Kiddies" off the porch to stand under a table , drawing every dining room curtain closed with her hand on a Bible ...Nervously singing to grandchildren on such happenings , I pray for tranquil weather in Heaven for you Grandmaw on every evening ...

By: Cedric McClester

I heard the news
And it was numbing
Cuz so few of us
Saw it coming
The icon had
A sad homecoming
To a funeral dirge
And muffled drumming

Bowie dead at 69
Yet again reinvented
Read the headline
Now he belongs
To the annals of time
The rarest of treasures
You will find
It’s so sad that he’s crossed the line

I can’t imagine
Where to start
Was he an artist,
Or was he art?
A master of
The record chart
From Paris France
To Germany’s Stuttgart

And now the world
Must say farewell
To the clanging of
A cathedral’s bell
But he left music
To compel
Those of us
Who wished him well























Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.

Some days my heart feels better
Than it did the day before
But some days I still want you
And it's yesterday once more
I go out to join the laughter
But it's still a lonesome sound
When the smile's almost beginning
That old tear comes rolling down

I'M SOMEWHERE BETWEEN A TEARDROP AND A SMILE
GETTING OVER YOU WILL TAKE A WHILE
SEEMS MY HEART IS SLOWLY HEALING
BUT THEN I GET THAT OLD TIME FEELING
I'M SOMEWHERE BETWEEN A TEARDROP AND A SMILE

Tomorrow's overdue for me
But my yesterday dies slow
It wasn't easy finding you
It's harder letting go
Someday I hope I make it
But you're hard to leave behind
Just when a pretty girl comes by
You walk across my mind

CHORUS

BRIDGE:  At a party I'll feel good times on the way
                  Then my heart is touched by some old song they play...

CHORUS

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

The stately oak stands solemn and quiet
Alongside the bucolic covered bridge
Its branches hanging downward as if tired
Leaves falling slowly into the current
Of the rain swollen Watauga River

The shadow of the tree clinging starkly
Onto the weathered century-old planks
Speaking of a time not so far removed
When bridge and tree was the gathering place
For a day's respite from a hard week's toil

Farmers, merchants, wives and children gathered
With picnic baskets filled with fried chicken
The women chatting in their new bonnets
The children wearing last year's Sunday best
While the men make bets like Roman soldiers

The low mound where the tree's roots are anchored
Bare earth beneath the lowest hanging limb
A crude stool of newly cut pine upright
While waiting for the next unwilling guest
Courthouse clock chimes the hour of Golgotha

r  14Jan14

I sometimes search the Internet
Looking for my father’s Rickenbacker guitar
Though I rarely heard him play it
That sliding sound, with my bedroom door ajar

More often I can see it still
In our parlor in its dedicated space
It must be strum while sitting down
Its elevated strings silent in its case

I couldn’t comprehend it then
Though looking back now it seems a little cruel
That on the day my father died
Like any other day, I went on to school

That day began as usual
My father and I-an ordinary ride
Until he swerved right off the road
While I lurched to his side and watched while he died

His heart had stopped, and even now
I try to remember a look or a trace
Wondering why his lips turned blue
And a wave of pale, deep pain was on his face

His death was never talked about
I was clueless about what to do or say
No one ever spoke to me then
When I was driven to school on that same day

I can’t remember anything
About the details of our lives before then
I catch up watching family films
He left when I was only 9, almost 10

I know we have gifts that differ
I believe according to my Father’s Grace
That the gift my father left me
I sometimes see it written on my own face

And in strains of music heard
That sliding, soulful sound in Hawaiian songs
Or when Neil’s Harvest album plays
I stop-and like a prayer I sing along

I looked for his guitar again
It’s now worth so many thousand dollars more
All I have is faded memories
Haunting strains of music coming through my door

She might have needed 50 bucks
When I asked it was the story she would tell
About my dad’s Rickenbacker
At 10, when I begged my mother not to sell