Kith and Kin…by Jessie 12/05

Thicken fog on a Scottish moor; names of past called out
McClure clan in black watch kilts; ghost that stroll the hills
The night so dark; the moon asleep;
A trek imprinted in every mind
A walk taken year by year, since the start of time
Candles lit to mark each name, and cut the congealed vale
Faces glow; in each eye a tear, as the generations kneel
Thirty years times thirty, now to present day
Kith and kin, circle round the McClure stone to pray
Every eve upon this date, the ritual of names
The list is read from first to end; then passed and read again
From the oldest man to the youngest child, the names will pass each lip
Then the McClure goblet, passed around, from which all descendants sip
Once every name is read aloud: the empty goblet turned
The sheep skin parchment tightly rolled then tucked within its sheath
Placed within the wood carved box; another year to keep
A tear is wiped, the flames extinguished; all receive a hug
Quietly, all’s disbursed; single file they leave
Nary another word is said
The long trek back, is for the clan, to reminisce and grieve

Tower …by Jessie 11/05

Busy people run aerie
Build a tower up to the sky
Communication at it’s best

Working hard, accomplish tasks
Do just what the foreman asks
Everything is running smooth

Soon, the foundations laid
Blood, sweat and all have prayed
Another layers up

It’s not long and heavens close
But all the people start to boast
God looks down and frowns

Angry that they build to him
Looking upon it as a sin
He waves his arm and sends it crashing down

Snaps his finger, numbs their tongues
Fathers can’t communicate with sons
Every ones dispersed and quiet confused

Never again will man contrive
To sit right by his makers side
Nor will man understand the other man

Which one was wrong? It’s hard to say
But I’ll tell you this…from that day
Its no wonder, man can’t get along with man

The Cost…by Jessie 2/07

As I stood on the hill surveying
The blackened aftermath
I peered with the eye of an eagle
For life, to cross my path
Many hours I stood there waiting
My rifle tucked under my chin
The sun in the sky, began falling
And realization rolled in with the wind
Nothing was moving
Because nothing was left
Destruction had taken them all
It seemed I was the only one standing
So I allowed my rifle to fall
I gazed to the north
Then back to the south
Not sure, which way I should go
Feeling faint, I dropped to my knees
From the wound in my side, the blood flowed
With shallow breath and cold setting in
I asked myself… what was the cost?
The only thing gained on this ****** day
Was fathers and son were all lost

Steadfast…by Jessie


Ride the horse into the ground, beat it with your crop.

Drive him deep into the sand, until he finely drops.

The massive beast lye panting; all lathered and nostrils flared.

His heavy chest expanding then collapsed from lack of air.

But you poked and kick the gentle beast, just wanting one last ride.

As he stood, you jumped his back; he tried to take a stride.

His eyes rolled back, his legs gave way, he had no more to give.

He fell again and that was it, the beast no longer lived.

Not content with what you got, still you wanted more.

You poked and beat him with your crop until his flesh was tore.

Day’s went by and time had passed, the corps lay in the sun.

You never left, you were determined, to beat him tell he’d run.

Riders pass the solemn sight and swear that they can see;

You standing there, still beating, a lifeless ****** steed.

Sterile…by Jessie 8/05

There isn’t much in a sterile life
There is no color, the walls are white

The floors are cold, on my feet
There is no flavor to the food I eat

The only smell, is of alcohol
In this sterile life

People come and people go
None of them really want to know
What it’s like to live in a sterile life

They look at you with big blank stares
Don’t get close, don’t you dare
Contaminate this sterile life

Not much to do but sit and think
Hours go by and I never blink
Time is slow in a sterile life

Wipe things down, one more time
Make them sparkle make them shine
No room for germs in a sterile life

Well… day goes by and night will fall
No excitement here at all
It’s just a sterile life

It gets sunny, if you let it in
But then why bother, you think again
It will only ruin a perfectly good sterile day

Don’t try to love don’t try to hate
Your living in a sterile state
There really isn’t much in a sterile life

Tug of the Rope…by Jessie 10/05


Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Feel me getting cold
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Never got the chance to grow old

Feel me kick and twitch at the air
Feel me sway back and forth
Feel my lungs as they gasp for a breath
Feel the crowed as they stare

All of the sorrow, I brought to this world
All the things I’ve done
Today I will pay all my debts
For the pain, that I’ve caused to each one

Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Feel me slipping away
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Nothing left to say

My lifeless body hangs from this rope
The crowd roars out with a cheer
Mothers, covering their children’s eyes
Through her trembling fingers they peer

Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Taught, thick and straight
Feel the tug of hell calling me
As, I pass through her fiery gates

War …by Jessie 6/05
I peered quite deep and far beyond, where any man should look

Into the eyes of tragedy, where fury can be took

What I saw, I can’t explain, there are no words to say

Suffice to say that what I saw, scared me on that day

Men as far as the eye can see, lay empty on the ground

Others running fast and hard, explosions all around

Mechanical devices, found burring in the fire, trying hard to stay alive the soldiers first desire

The smell so bad it chokes the throat, from chemicals and death

Heat so hot, it sears the lungs with every choking breath

Fear, in every eye, tells of what’s to come

Nights of panic for many, death will come to some

Cries poured out into the sky from those that have been hurt

While soldiers blood on each side, fill pools in the dirt

Pictures of their families, crumpled in a pocket near their chest

Memories of what they’ve lost, at their final rest

Some men break, the strains too much, from all that they have seen

Not retreating on the battlefield, only in the brain

Yes, I’ve peered quite deep and far beyond, where any man should look
Into the eyes of tragedy, where fury can be took