I heard something knocking then creaking and rocking. It would come all hours of the night. I went back to sleep but then it would come again. I knew that something wasn't right. For days this went on and it began to creep me out. I looked high and low but found nothing in my house. Perhaps the house is haunted, but I built it brand new. I looked for an answer but could not find a clue. Then one night about the witching hour of 12, I was getting some milk and then some cookies down off of a shelf. Then there was that noise again, the knocking then the creaking and the rocking. I listened intently and it was coming from outside. I put on my slippers and grabbed a large flash light. As I opened the back door and walked quietly down my back stairs, I shined the light left and right but saw nothing there. As I got closer to my fence that bordered the neighbors yard, I heard the knocking, then the creaking and the rocking coming from next door. As I stepped up to the fence and looked over the top, I saw the most awful sight, it nearly made my heart stop. Right next door in an old wooden swing, were my two elderly neighbors not wearing a thing. I cringed in fear and ran quickly back inside. I washed my face in the sink and violently rubbed my eyes. Sometimes I have found out it is best you see, if you don't know what the noise is and just let things be.

I am imperfect, but I try to do better. I was not born great but I will strive to do great things. My name might not be put up in lights, but it will be remembered by those to whom I show mercy. I may not achieve great wealth, but I will gladly share a meal with those in need. I will seek out wisdom that I may in someway teach another. I will be open to learn new things in order to better myself. I will stand for my convictions though others might not agree with me. I will have compassion when I can so that things will be better than when I came. In the end I will have faith that heaven will see the good and forgive the bad. I will hope for others to be successful and pray for them to receive blessings. These are the things I strive for, this is the life I hope to achieve. Of this I give a testimony so that others may know what I believe.

At the falling rain petals of the field are drenched with the watering of the sky. Each flower adorned in glory fills with the moisture that it needs to live, but in a moment when there is more than enough, the water runs from the Iris down the petal to the ground. In that moment the flower is bent and pulled over, as if to weep for what tragedy we may never know. It is just enough to know that even the most beautiful adornments of the field can appear to feel sadness.

I see dragons and flying horses. I ride upon unicorns and watch fairies fly about. Waterfalls are enchanted with water nymphs that tease and play tricks on unsuspecting passers by. The trees can speak in their own peculiar way and the sky changes color with the mood of the day. When all things are in harmony, it is a light blue or a bright hue of pink. When there is distress it turns silver grey or a pail yellow. The sun shines down brightly but not too hot, only warm enough to wake the gnomes and wood sprites. In a land that is as real as my imagination, the world is a much more interesting place when mystic creatures abound.

Oh mighty empire that ruled all that it surveyed, how you have fallen. Your golden idols glistened in the sun and your vaulted columns of marble told of your greatness. All things under the sun were subject to your will. The beauty of your maidens was untold and none could be found to compare. What was once great is now brought low, oh how many weep at your fall. From a wise king to a cruel tyrant you have gone. The reins of power ripped away by the arrogant and cruel, now the end of you has come. The day of knowledge being precious in you with fine silks and rich spices traded from you has ceased. The Jackal and the Fox now inhabit your palaces. Many long for the day of your greatness to return, but alas the fall from your exalted place was as a great stone crashing into the sea. The wave was felt around the world as you were shattered in one hour and now lay in waste. Lament now you maidens and weep for what you have lost. No longer will your beauty be of renown. Cover your face with a widows veil. Mighty men cover yourselves in ash and lament the great city is fallen it is fallen. No more to rise and rule in grandeur and excellence. Alas, Babylon has fallen.

The rivers run yellow with poison and the government does not care. The air if filled with pollutants and the trees cannot breathe. All of the toxins are drawn up and collected in the clouds, then fall down on us again. Now are lakes are polluted and our fish are dying and we can't seem to find someone to blame. How much more destruction must we endure, before someone will save the rain.

Huddled with anticipation of pain and loss, the brave and fearful alike band together awaiting the unwelcome moment. Courage is a scarce thing among the trenches as one by one men crouch to move forward. Across a barren landscape, that is more like the backyard of the grim reaper, they jump out of their holes like frightened rabbits dashing forward into the smoke and chaos. Shouting and wailing can be heard as bullets move by making no sound until they strike something. Valiant though their efforts are, the soldiers are little more than fodder for a cannon that is not pointed at those who started the unreasonable slaughter, but at the common man who was content to work at a trade until rousted from his warm abode and cast into the mud and blood next to his comrades. Now as the smoke settles, men who have long forgotten how to tie their own shoes heave their large masses on to  a table as the groan about the horrors of war, all the while indulging in worldly pleasure as the common fall spilling blood for nothing that affords them any good will. The ones who make the bullets prosper and the politicians speak of how great the sacrifice was, of the common man, while their dogged forms rest safely behind walls of stone and steel many miles away from the harm, an their offspring are not picked to wield the sword or take the harm as these men test out their new machines of war. So onward goes the common soldier, into the fray and the slaughter. Fighting for someone else's ideals, while they give little in the way of thought to his sacrifice, except when it suits their nefarious purposes or is expedient to keep those who remain content that the loss of their love ones were not in vain.

When you can give a space of time to those whom you love the most. Let them know you hold them as special and keep their pleasant memories with you always. A moment doesn't seem like a great deal, but it can be more precious than a rare jewel.

The heavens wrap around me and immerse me in the coldness of it's touch. Between warm stars that give their light to celestial bodies where life may flourish. I drift from point to point with no concept of time. All things are simply beginning and ending, then starting again. I have seen worlds that are the things of imagination where mystical and unnatural things exist in harmony with reality. Consumed by the eternal journey, I drift among the points of light in search of myself.

A building reaches to the heavens and glass and steel shine in the sun. People stand in awe and wonder of the amazing structure, then go on about their lives. Offices are opened in the massive structure and people move in to apartments and begin to live their lives. Turn back the clock one year and the building wasn't finished and most people paid it on attention. Men and women ran across the superstructure like ants on a play ground. Busily they worked and labored to make the building come to life. When the last window was installed, they went quietly away, but each one was important in this accomplishment. Nothing is done alone, and there is always someone to help. If not for the contribution of many nothing would be achieved. The doctor in the emergency room, wasn't always that skilled. The solider on the battle field wasn't born holding a gun. Someone had to help them get to where they were. In some way each of us contributes everyday to the success of something greater than ourselves.

Doylies and lace table cloths adoring dark wood tables. Lamps of brass and crystal sit politely  on top of them. Flowers in a vase, fresh cut and arranged just so. The rugs are well beaten, fresh and soft to the touch. A light hearted tune plays in the back ground, soft enough to be secondary, but lively enough to be noticed as one enters the room. Couches and chairs are positioned correctly as to allow guest to see their hostess with ease while being able to take in the beauty of the room lit up by natural light. All is tranquility and resonates with the refinement of a proper lady who when called upon to entertain is in a proper place.

Welcome to my party, I am so glad you came. It is a wonderful day to celebrate. There will be many games and lots of people having fun. I hope you will enjoy yourself before we are done. I chose this day for no particular reason at all. I just wanted to celebrate and have a little fun. I wanted all of my friends to get know everyone. There are so few times that we get to meet. I felt that a celebration would be just the thing. It allows us to relax and take the time to talk. Over coffee, punch and cake, there is so much to discuss. It is a pity that one day will not be enough, but for now we can break the ice and make a few new friends that will be quite nice. So welcome to my party I am so glad you came, and perhaps we can all have fun gaining understanding along the way.

Clinging to the crevice of a sheer granite face, looking down at the earth below. Ascending through the wind swept edges of jagged rock, pulling up with your own power. Holding your breath until you find your next foothold. Starting before the sun is up and finishing as the sun sets. Standing atop a high peak, knowing that through sweat and determination that you have won the day. Then the sun sets low and you begin to ponder the descent of tomorrow. Wondering if the  journey down will be as wonderful and fulfilling as the climb to the top.

You may have a face full of freckles or you may have curly hair. You might talk with an accent or have a small but cute nose. You might have Brown eyes or perhaps they came out Green. You may be not so tall and kind of round, or have big feet and small hands. Despite what the world sees, there are amazing things that you keep inside. True majesty and grace abound in your soul. When you smile warmly and offer to be a friend. When you give of yourself and expect nothing in return. When you are accepting of others despite what they think of you. You show the world a rare and wonderful sight of the beauty that is in you.

Last night I went to sleep and I began to dream. My spirit left my body and crossed beyond the veil of time. I watched the old world pass and saw a light that was brighter than the sun. I stepped onto a street and everything was clean. The air was clear and I could see all of the stars. I looked into a window and saw a video screen. What was being talked about I could not believe. There were no reports of ******, nor was there any war, only images from people living on Mars. I saw children playing and having a parade. It seemed unreal to me. Then I looked around and saw the city lights, I jumped up and took my spirit took flight. I looked over the earth and saw how it was lush and green. I didn't see any factories spewing out pollution. I looked for a hospital, but one could not be found. I only found a small building where people are healed for free. I watched and listened and found what amazing thing had been done. Science had accomplished the impossible, all sickness was all but gone .In a moment I felt myself being pulled back to where I was asleep. I woke up and felt so empty. I wanted to go back to what I had seen. I then realized that the world I saw was yet possible and tomorrow would begin with me.

The fog is rising from the meadows and the birds are beginning to sing. The sun is still below the horizon and the haze still hangs over head. The flowers are still asleep, waiting for the days first rays of sun. In these still moments before the world is awake, I find a quiet time to reflect and renew my spirit. I draw on the solitude and beauty of a new day, before it is lost to the rest of the world.

With hair like the wings of night and skin as soft as a summer wind, the beauty of the child of the east is hidden beneath a veil. Oh how your cruel master despises your delicate form. You are layered in garments as though you mourn for your own creation, yet each small detail reveals beauty that no tyranny can hide. Despite the cruelty of your master, your cheek shows the strength of your face and your eyes the deepness of your caring. With hands hardened by your labors yet softened to care for a stranger or a child, your radiance shines forth like the morning sun and you blossom from beneath the covering of your imprisonment like a rare desert rose after the coming of rain to the empty and dry earth of your oppression.

On ground drenched with my tears, the earth has turned lifeless and Gray. The grass is brown and the trees have all withered away. No birds sing anymore and the sky is always dark and the wind is dry. No puddles of rain form, nothing comes from the sky. All of the life is gone from the place where I used to know love. All I hear is the mocking of the wind as it blows hot and dry from above. Not even a **** will blossom in my world. No flowers to give off their pleasing scent, not a blossom or a bloom. Just dried clumps of dust where salt has drenched the life out the ground. I live without beauty where flowers won't bloom anymore.

I have a neighbor that needs help. I write a great many poems but many are about how we can help each other. If anyone would like to give just 5 dollars you can find the fund raiser at facebook under the name of James Vined. I know the site got a typeo and won't fix it readily. Thanks

We see each other every morning, but you only smile and pass me by. The scent of you takes my breath away, I cannot find the words to just say hi. I want you to see me, but you look right through me. I try to look nice when I know that I will see you, but you don't seem to notice me at all. No matter what I see to do, I must accept that I am invisible to you.

The world is filled with violence and no one seems to care. People are crying out for salvation but none seems to be there. If each one of who believes would do more to be like our lord, then the world would see a light of hope in every deed  and word. The darkness would be beaten and hope would replace despair. People would have faith again because there was someone there. With each person we could help a life would be changed, then solving one problem at a time, the world would never be the same.

The lights blink on and off in the cell block, but not from Christmas cheer. The prison is old and in much need of repair. I have a Christmas card taped to my wall, I put it up with chewing gum so that it will stay put. The photo shows my daughter another year older. I watch her through photographs while I complete my time. It is like being a stranger looking into my old life. The warden lets us sing Christmas songs, at least those of us who still believe. Many just sit in their cells waiting for the season to pass. We get our Christmas packages right before Christmas day. A few packs of cookies and what ever else the state thinks we should have. I lay back on my bunk and look through the ***** window onto the snow covered yard. I try to suppress the loneliness I feel as they call lights out at Christmas time.

No one is exempt from the scorching rays of the sun. It burns the earth and turns us all, baking our skin. So what contempt it is for one person or group to think that they will escape the ravages of natures revenge for the way we have treated her.

With my quill I transcribe thoughts into words. I ply a trade on paper and into print. I shape and mold ideas into daggers that pierce through corruption and injustice. I sharpen my implement to do battle against the ideas of ignorance and censorship. I cut to the core of the bone and separate the marrow from it. I slice out the forked tongue that tells lies and spits venom. Only with the written word can I stand my ground. When I am silenced, I find another way to pull my words together. In freedoms name, I may even lose my life. Yet my pen will cut sharper than any blade, because the truth and the idea of freedom cannot die.

What is Justice can anyone tell me please Is it a thing that I can measure with a ruler or a cup? Is it something I can hold in my hand? If it cannot be touched or given to measurement, then how do I know it exist. When I am injured can it make me whole. Will it give me back my lost time. Is it something that can only be bought with money so that only if I have enough gold I can receive what justice I can buy. I ask what is Justice because the answer seems to elude me. I hear the term used all of the time, but yet I see no dead person brought back or family made whole from a tragedy I only see more pain caused by what I am told is just. One person suffers a loss then another is called to answer for it, but yet I cannot see where the Justice lies. Perhaps it is a thing that only smart people can understand but I would like someone to explain to me just what Justice is?

In mighty palaces or in a dark and abandoned alley, the fate of all is the same. When the shadow of a mortals fate comes upon us and the veil is torn asunder, we all go the same way. Age does not matter nor does status in life. A king with a crown is just the same as a beggar or a prisoner in chains. The icy hand of mortality finds it's way into our bed chambers and hobbles. No bribe can stay the judgment of our own mortal end. At the moment that we close our eyes for the last time and our final breath slips away, we all become equal . So take heed of this warning, that you are ready when you fall, for you never know where you will be or how you be found when death comes to call.

Despite my imperfections, I think my relationship is fine. I always find that I am exceptional and that I am right most of the time. I have yet to do something in  bad taste, at least not as far as I can see. In truth I am very happy with myself, yes I love me.

The plumbing is busted and the secrets have been spewed out for all to see. The festering leaks have overloaded the system and now the light of day shines on the truth of what was hidden. No secrets can be kept anymore, not from prying eyes of thieves and those who wish to control everything. To play God, even though the job is taken is the illusion of those who want to be in the know. The trouble that lies within the system, is that we are yet human. Given that fact alone and the  enormity of egos at outing the things that we said we would protect, makes the system failed before it even gets started. So settle down and ride the wave of uncertainty as one thing after another is shown the light of day. Perhaps it is the arrogance that anyone can hold all things in their hands and not let go of even one bit of what they have that has made God jealous and causes him to simply let the dice roll and the chips fall where the may, as the news is out and declared from the house tops that which was hidden in secret places.

Drink up the intoxication of the moment and carry it with you as you go. A short way down the road your car will roll over and you will be a wreck. What you thought was going to last forever has run out of luck. You have hit a pothole in life and now your stuck. Not all days will be good ones some will be bitter and cold. The magic doesn't last forever, at least that's what I am told. So when you do have a good patch, enjoy it while it last, because life can end you up on the rocks pretty fast.

In the garden he wept sorely. In the garden he cried alone. In the garden he wept for you and me. In the garden, he cried in anguish for another way. In the garden, he wept until they came for him. In the garden, cried father let it end. In the garden he shed his tears until he shed his blood. In the garden he wept to fulfill the will of God.

Wash away the dirt and grime, leave old problems behind. Open up a new door and walk through it. Make some new friends, its not that hard. Live life on your own terms. Run away from negative people who want to hold you back. Carry on a conversation with yourself and let the mirror do the rest. Close old wounds and take new chances. Find some music and learn a new dance. Immerse yourself is something you didn't know before. Forget about grievances and trying to settle old scores. Give something to someone you just met, when they have a need that they cannot fill themselves. Close the first day of a new path with a laugh and a song. Wipe away the bad things and let the slate be clean for tomorrow.

I know that I look different, but I will be myself. I know that I sound different, but I will speak up for myself.  I know that we do not believe the same things, but I will stand on my principals. I know that in some ways others may be better in some things than I am, but I will achieve my goals. I know that life can be unfair, but I will not let that get in my way. I will be proud of who I am and what I can do, I will not be ashamed.

Hands wrinkled by age and years of caring labor. Some days often forgetful. A heart full of caring and love. Always worrying about others, but giving little concern for herself. Age has greyed her hair and time has left it's mark on her smile, but deep impressions are scarcely noticed when her warm greeting meets the sick sniffles of a runny nose. No treasure could be greater, no wisdom can be sweeter. These are things that make a mother so dear. A person who cannot be replaced no matter how hard you may try. She is a gift from God indeed.

You though your relationship was safe. You thought he was into you. Both thoughts were wrong when you saw him with another girl. Now when he sees your anger burning, now he takes notice.

Feed me, feed me, give me more. I want all of your dollar and then a few more. Thus is the voice of the political machine. A never ending cycle of hunger. No matter what it gets it always wants more. It claims to be making a difference, but it is making us all poor. The bloated wealthy live out of the till. They claim they have nothing, but they beg for more still. The under class is what we have become, constantly feeding the Political monster we have created, when will it be enough. Feed me, feed me is the governments embattled cry. Give me all of your resources and then I will take half when you die. What is fair and just, no one will ever say. Only keep feeding the machine so it can get just a little bigger every day.

The cold wind howls outside. The window Payne is covered with the first ice crystals that herald in the coming fall.  I roll over and look up at the frost on my window. I see the exquisite designs of each silver flake that covers the chilled glass. I watch each one carefully, then I watch the morning sun come and takes them away. Each one a hand painted master piece of natural beauty, that will not be repeated again.

There has been a long dry spell and the souls of many are arid for lack of spiritual water. Long have they thirsted for redemption and peace. Now as the dark clouds form over many lives, some say the gloom is for judgment, but lord we know the truth of the things you speak, for all things there is a season. Now after the trials have passed and the valley is forgotten, the high mountains beckon. Let now fall your blessings and pour out your mercy. Let the weary soul be lightened from the burdens that they have carried. Let your blessings fall in mighty showers, let them come down beyond our ability to contain them. As spring waters over flow the banks of rivers and return soil to infertile fields. Let you grace fall upon us and revive green pastures. Oh lord, please gives us the latter rain.

Take the pieces of who I am or what I was. Then dissect each and every one. Look through my soul and find my emotions. Pull on my heart strings until they fray. Look at my memories and go through them with a fine tooth comb. This is how I feel since your leaving is pulling me apart.

What is the essence of a man? Is physical strength and bravado the makings of a man? Does courage in the face of danger define who a man is? Is it better for a man to show emotion or to hide it? Perhaps the best answer lies in some of all of these things. Having strength to show courage and to show emotions when it is necessary with little thought for what others think is a true definition of what makes a man what he needs to be.

I see the degrading of what once functioned well. I wonder why confusion has come to it. What mishap could have destroyed the harmony of the sight, oh when will the ship right itself?

Released from their tethers, to the battle field. The go forward sniffing out blood and carnage. Rife with the smell of death, they howl over the heat of conflict. Lash, burn and tear from limb and bone as the fill the hearts of men. Rage and hate are given to feed them and urge their howls on. No time for peace of discord, no profit in peaceful endeavors. Now let slip the dogs of war, for profit and spoil. Until both sides are decimated and then the dogs shall be withdrawn. In a facade and Olive branch will be offered, only when all is laid to waste and ****** corpses and broken limbs litter the ruins of cities. Then to profit they will help rebuild, then let slip the dogs of war again.

I was on a lonely stretch of highway, between there and no where, when I saw a blonde in a red sports car speeding by me on the highway. I felt a chill run over me and I stared at her car disappearing in the distance. For a moment I could have sworn that she winked at me, as she shot on by. Looking in my rear view mirror, I was a large white car coming out of the waves of heat rising up from the open asphalt. As it approaches, I can hear the music flowing from it's speakers. I look in my mirror and see a man with dark hair and sun glasses. The drop top is down in his classic Cadillac. As he pulls along side of my car, I see he is dressed all in white. The Rhinestones of his jacket glisten in the western sun. From behind dark sunglasses he smiles at me and points a finger at me. He then drives on into the distance, rock and roll spilling out of his car like water on to a thirsty desert. On I go, one by one people pass me by. I feel as if I know them some how. The as the sun begins to set in the west, I pass by the coast and I see ghostly images on the side of the road. They wave at me and the blonde from the sports car blows me a kiss. I feel a warm breeze touch my cheek. I settle back as I head on to California, realizing I have been in on a little part of history, as I travel along route 66.

There are no hero's on the front lines. No one goes in seeking glory. Causalities are the result of generals and kings who cannot agree. We the soldiers suffer the losses. Friends fall in battle, and there is no fog in war. There are only enemies and bullets flying. At the end, both sides have bodies to heap up. Whether in the streets or on the battle field, there is no clear winner. There are only shattered bodies and those who have survived by some miracle, and have to live on with shattered minds. They relive the battle each day, recounting the losses of friends and trying to understand the cost of war.

A crown adorns the head of the fallen body, broken and shattered for our sins. A crown of pain becomes a symbol of redemption drenched in innocent blood. So that which ****** and cuts, now has become a holy thing. Precious are the thorns that pricked the Rose of Sharon that bled for all our sins.

When the armies of darkness surround you and the strongholds are built against you, do not surrender to the enemy. Bolster your soul and fall before the alter with the cross that you were chosen to bear. In solemn humble prayer, you can overcome what ever the enemy may dare, for you will be enjoined to God when you seek him there.

A leaf was unsteady on a tree. I looked on as it quivered and shook in the wind. Then for no particular reason, when the wind stopped, it fell off of it's branch. Silently it floated, down, down , down, until it touched the ground. As it fell, it danced in the light, it's colors shimmering only for a moment. I walked over and picked it up and thought about why it fell. Then as the wind picked up, I threw the leaf into the air and watched it dance away with so many others that were blown up by the wind. As if the leaves were people, I gained a glimmer of understanding of how very much we are like the falling leaves.

Thundering over ground that has known it's share of hardship, horses gallop under a Grey sky. The wind howls around them as their hooves stir up dust. The breeze carries it high into the air. Lightning flashes in the distance as Thunder echo's across the plain. In colors painted on them by nature and necessity, they wander aimlessly without boundaries. Blending into the natural beauty of the vast open spaces. The painted horses run as a mark of history across the west.

Shine in the light and burn like fire in the dark. Be a star and glisten
for all to see. Radiate a special light that nothing can quench. Show how special you are, for all of the world to see. Never be afraid to step into the limelight, always be ready to take the lead. Show the world what you are made of, sparkle like a Diamond polished and refined. Let nothing dim radiance of who you are!

Speaking to those who are receptive of your ideas can open up hearts and minds. Even if total agreement is not reached, understand can begin. When word are spoken they can heal or wound in ways we cannot even imagine. We must parse our speech carefully, for we do not know who is listening or who might take offense or take what we say to heart.

Drinking from a cup of lust, trying to satisfy her fire, she craves passion and intimacy. You can get hypnotized by her eyes or the movement of her body, her form screams take me even in the dark. Be cautious of her ways, she will consume your strength to satisfy her needs. She is only secure when you hold her near and will not let you breathe, for her need to be filled is so great. Such passion burns like a thousand candles, she scorches the soul of her lovers. She is need incarnate, she is a wild creature, she is insatiable.