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Tate Morgan Jun 2014
So where does the love of God go
when the days turn minutes to hours
Just whose house has God been visiting
when followers hurl rocks not flowers


What do we teach our children so well
precious lessons of Christ, we all follow
Condemning the young that chose abortion
so God's teachings will ring out but hollow


Where are the mighty gifts of forgiveness
shoulders to cry on, for families that fail
Instead they cast stones of the malcontent
on the lord's children that they assail


Perhaps it would serve us all better
if we could call a ***** a *****
Then point the finger of hypocrisy
at the army of heretics they've made


Take a walk to the washing basin
look to the mirrored reflection of pain
Soap will never wash away the ignorance
or the ugly hatred and stench that remain


Shame be on us for these things
as we shall reap what we do sow
You can't teach love and tolerance
with every gun and with every blow

Tate
Original version with music and photos
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/537288/
I'm sorry but if I am to believe the Martyrs I would have to concede that Almighty God needed lowly me to punish the unclean. As he was unable to do it himself. Well where is the God of Noah that with a wave of his hand flooded the world? If he was that ineffectual I think I would go looking for enlightenment somewhere else.

The quintessential question remains by what right do any of us claim divine guidance? There comes a point where judgment is beyond us and we have to leave these things to the individuals involved. Our personal beliefs have no right being imposed on others rights or beliefs. Even in the case of protection of the innocents. This is such a divisive question that it causes violence. However in the enlightened parts of the world this is not a problem like it is here in the mostly evangelical, protestant, pilgrim, country of the hypocrite. We as Americans tend to believe we are the ones who are most enlightened. It always amazes me how ignorant we as Americans""is"! As we plod along polluting the world at a exponential rate. Then wishing to overpopulate it with unwanted children in the name of God. Truth be known this countries real God is the Almighty dollar. I only wish Twain were still alive as I am sure his witticisms and opinions would be most welcome by the truly enlightened. And shunned by the clergy.It was only a few years ago that the Catholic Pope apologized to the world for having imprisoned Galileo Galilee in his home,For the crime of saying the Earth was not the center of the Universe. At that rate of religious attrition religion should catch up to the education of the 21st century sometime in about 500 years or so. Protecting the rights of other peoples unwanted children .And paying to raise the majority of them through the state will never alleviate the conscience that we offend by our insensibility .!
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
We are architects of our fate
working within constraints of time
Some mens lives do seem so blessed
while others seem riddled with crime

For each of us stack stones of life
from our yesterdays we borrow
The blocks from which we build our days
are foundations for tomorrow

Build your dreams with greatest care
don't think on life's great sorrowed past
Create a world so wondrous
that through ice and fire it will last

Your child’s future held in your hands
go from failures cold darkened din
Show your son where you are going
not the tale of where you have been

Tate
Original poem with music
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/538310/
Be the beacon your child uses to light his way!
Not the darkened night he shuns!
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
I hear the rhythm of the rain
wind- whipped drops falling 'round
Tapping on the kitchen window pane
I love the music in that lonesome sound

Walking through to morning's shower
daisies covered by mist in the dew
Calm and warm tame with power
life springs forth all fresh anew

Watching the world's sins melt away
anointing life with a chance to be
Feeling the sun light up the day
washing the blues away from me

So like the man built solely from tin
with a chest full of broken dreams
Rain falls softly on my skin
nothing quite the way it seems

As I watch the drops of rain
falling on the glass by and by
They run down from the window pane
there before the grace of you go I

Tate
Original version with music
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/555096/
Such a metaphor for my own life the tin man. Often I am right as rain. Moments later set by depression and doubt. Then the rain comes washes away the blues and I am fine again. The sun comes up and shines upon me again.All my worries pale in consequence.
Tate
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
The water's edge rose to meet me
while either side the river lie
Across the bridge and path I ran
past tall fields of both wheat and rye

To the meadow where my home sat
there childhood dreams were born and died
I followed the path that life led
my guarding angel at my side

Here were crafted my hopes and dreams
from hence I’d come to test my skill
To find the place where I belong
perhaps upon some distant hill

Coming home from where I had been
retracing  steps from here to there
Has brought my life full circle now
teaching me the lessons I share

I had set out to find my purpose
only my own life did I see
But finding love in coming home
my treasured soul had found all three
  
Tate
Original musical version
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/557123/
Sometimes we find who we are is as simple as where we came from.
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
With pride deposed and passions slain
we hope, aspire and then on trust
Beneath vaulted skies we attain
to master life before we're dust

Then take the gifts that we have earned
and turn out surcease from despair
To reap the pearls others have learned
echos childhood calls to be fair

I crossed over a young boys path
who had stooped and bent for hours
There he escaped to love from wrath
while he tended to his flowers

In him I saw myself one day
a cold spirit needing tending
And in his face I saw the way
to happiness he was rending

Simple things from a little boy
do the same for old and new
Bringing to all wonders and joy
a smile he shared with me and you

A little thing from a kind child
who then shared with me his treasures
Taught me the virtues of the mild
exposing life's greatest pleasures

Tate
Original version with music
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/604858/
Simple pleasures are their own reward. People we don't need 15 pairs of acid or stone washed jeans. That come in 28 different sizes and cuts. Happiness comes from needing little and giving much. If you learn to be content everything else is an unexpected joy.
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
What if loves I once ceased to know
were just my own mistakes to blame
How can I then tender a hope
when all my excuses go lame

Then all the stars would fall to earth
as the lights went out in the sky
Leaving me dark and by myself
to then ask of my god but why

The breeze picks up what's left of life
as it cleans the lost slate away
The four winds then come whisk and blow
memories of a finer day

At times I am my own worst pain
not the way I wish it should be
Failing to recognize problems
not in others but within me

Tate
Original version
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/631791/
Not a serious write. Just a thought on my own responsibility for some of the pain I have known in the past. I caught my own reflection in the mirror and couldn't help seeing I am guilty as sin! lol I couldn't help it the Paper Moon movie is such an icon of Americana.
Just having some fun the paper moon movie reminds me of the racetrack and the kids both grown and not who acted so badly they ought to put them in a test tube and study them lol
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
When I was young through beauties gaze
winds blew by me as if to sing
Their songs of love to me were praise
that lifted me upon their wing

Rich did the spoils of time unroll
an empire's trophies I would raise
And write my name across life's scroll
to earn the laurels of friend's praise

Can anyone know what will come
when the wind blows us cold and gale
Or what direction it be from
when finally we set our sail

But now those days are tempered dear
time's winds no longer sing for me
For now the quiet hush I hear
makes life's truth so easy to see

Tate
Original musical version
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/618398/
Time has a way of answering our questions if we listen.
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
It takes of a man some courage
to admit when he has lost
Then swallow back his hard won pride
which had come at such high cost

All men know of their own weakness
for the temptations of life
They fight themselves to no avail
unhappy without life's strife

For a man is here to suffer
to stand up fast to the gale
To struggle against all life's odds
to either win, lose or fail

Men who feel this innate desire
tempt the will of unkind fates
To write their names upon lifes wall
as one of the worlds true greats

Only when a man has fallen
does he reach his true, found, worth
He knows of nothing until then
for the reason of his birth

A man can always take comfort
in the things he must abide
To gaze in the mirror broken
taking heart from that he tried

Tate
Original poem and music with pictures
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/629199/
Well I have struggled against this as many men have
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
If our faith can move a mountain
then it should save a soul
To have untapped faith in oneself
is life's great gift and goal

Within all children lay a dream
to be more than their parts
To open gifts within themselves
warming their tiny hearts

Ask a small child this question
"what do you want to be"
Always it's seems there's something grand
through their minds eye they see

So where do all the lost come from
who find their dreams have died
Who see their hopes all washed away
as if cast on the tide

No one can say with assurance
what happened to those souls
How all their dreams in life were lost
or for whom the bell tolls

If asked of me I would just say
truth is hard to admit
The mind is not a vessel filled
but a fire to be lit

Tate
Original poem with pictures of my granddaughter
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/634176/
Who can say with any assurance that they know where their life will take them?
But like all of us I too had dreams. Maybe they were a bit lofty. Maybe they were naive. We all know the boundless wonder of becoming an astronaut or fearless explorer.
However the man who crushes a child's dreams may as well have killed him.
Forever is the innocence lost. Forever will he doubt the word of all adults. Lost is the beauty of divinity. Lost the love of fair play. Gone the reward for decency, never to return. This is why we must take our responsibility for the young as a most divine effort and solemn responsibility.
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
If size were what life was about
then we would not matter a bit
Not to the thoughts that man can dream
nor all the sins he could commit

Our mind is what gives us value
sensitive beyond its design
Compassion and love will endure
in our children both yours and mine

This little blue planet of life
the only home that we know of
Holds us in it's loving embrace
as here was born every love

No matter what life can collect
nor how long life grants you in time
Why would it matter to the earth
or to heights of mountains you climb

Humanity won't remember
the man who commanded his friends
Only he who gives hope and love
so that life on earth never ends

Tate

Original larger than life version with music
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/647092/
Can a thought or feeling be larger than a universe? Love is the only trait that is worth remembering because it is meant to be given away selflessly. The recipient is as happy to receive it as you were to give it!
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