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Rustle McBride Oct 2017
I may look content in fine and lace
but the wilderness is my home.
It cares not what chaos brought me here.
Its paths are mine to roam.

When I need some space to understand
the choices I have made.
To compare my works to those of God
and confront this unafraid.

I start off for the mountain top
which I will likely never reach.
I care not, for life lives on its sides.
And what lesson does this teach?

There is a truth that’s shared along the trail
to cherish all we see,
For we may never pass this way again
but what we love will always be.
For my sister Patricia. I will miss you forever
Rustle McBride Jan 2017
You said one day we'd be together
Not for the night, but for forever
You said one day
                        that you would be
                                                  my one and only

But here I am, all these years later
the gap between grown only greater
And word from you
                        comes only through
                                                  when you are lonely

What happened to your grand design?
Were you really planning to be mine?
Or am I a fool
                        who wanted wool
                                                but fell for cotton?

Imperfect then, Imperfect now
Never wanted perfection anyhow
Just can't believe
                      I'd be deceived
                                                and then forgotten
Rustle McBride Jan 2017
Dear Mr. Cupid,

I hope you are well. Please forgive this letter’s intrusion. I know you are busy, preparing your bow, and planning this season’s collusions. I’ll remind you though Sir, of the issue I had with the last year’s arrow consignment. Your aim was amiss, and I’d be remiss if I failed to seek your reassignment. I’d like somebody new to deliver my true - love for which I have been waiting. For it has been so long since my wife ran along, and everyone says that I should be dating. So please, if you would send somebody good to shoot Love's arrow at me. Thank you in advance for forgoing this dance.

Mr. Oso Lonely
Rustle McBride Jan 2017
It wasn't at holidays; we always had those.
But, sometimes a birthday. More often an A.

You came to the beach, but not to my game.
Sometimes a "Well done!" on what's knew and the same.

You said you were proud, but how could you be?
You saw only my failures and what you wanted to see.

My everyday evils I handled without you.
What knowledge these gave, I deny it is true.

I will never be sure of, what you didn't teach me.
I doubt everyday what it is to be me.
to my Dad
Rustle McBride Jan 2017
Rise!* Oh, Mighty Jupiter;
Our Father now forgotten.
Come claim your rightful reverence.
Your pagan pedigree misgotten.

You were once our Shining Father;
Great King of all the Sky.
But you allowed your world to set
so a new Son could arise.

Zeus once ruled before you, and
Jesus became your heir.
Today not many realize
how we got from here to there.

I have considered for some moments
how our thoughts of god do change.
Plural notions of so long ago,
today can seem so strange.

We like to think we've come so far,
since those pagan days of yore.
Have we abandoned superstition
or just embraced it even more?

It was millennia ago
that Zeus ruled Mount Olympus.
He, their leader, more than father,
often beaten by hubris.

The Greeks, they worshiped leaders,
seeking standing in this forum.
Such desires, democratic
became their gods that ruled before them.

As the centuries moved on,
your new Latin home was Roma.
Your title too, transformed
to reflect a new persona.

To Zeus we added "Father",
or in Latin, pater, we prefer.
So Zeus, becomes Zeus-pater,
Zupater, then Jupiter.

Our names for gods reveal
exactly how they fill our needs.
Over time our needs evolve
and so a new name supersedes.

As Rome aged, it developed  
a need to know god as a man.
To be one of his number.
To see themselves as of his clan.

This zeus, he can be talked to,
can be greeted and be known.
They "Hail Zeus" as HeyZeus.
And now its Jesus on the Throne.

Through such inquests we can see
the needs Gods fill evolving,
from cold, covetous Kings
to a begotten Son absolving.

We imagine in the Heavens
things to help us understand,
how a universe so endless
can be the realm alone of man.
on the evolving nature of God
Rustle McBride Jan 2017
I woke up late at night
and I went into the room
I made the sacred gesture
as I entered in the tomb  
Well, it gets colder everyday
Perhaps I'll be there soon to stay

I woke up late at night
and I hadn't put it down
I knew somehow I'd fallen
but, I hadn't hit the ground
Well, it gets darker every night
The next may never bow to light

I woke up late in life
much maturer then I cared
I've known the answers and the problems
but the truth for once was dared.
Well, it gets easier every year.
You have to lean to live with fear
Rustle McBride Jan 2017
I can see the shafts of sunlight
amber slices through the air.
Gilded rays of fair approval
favor the betters basking there.

But, we live in the shadows;
The often seen but rarely known.
We, the great unworthy
take their experiences for our own.

This is life in the penumbra;
Unacknowledged, though intended.
We live lives by implication.
Rights derived, but not defended.

Nothing grows in the penumbra's
un-illuminated spaces.
Except the mass of shifting shadows
that your compassion rarely graces.
Who are the forgotten?
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