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I found parts of me
inside my poetry
I could never see
in strange reality.
Next time the cost of
something, has you
  angry or blue.
Think of the chain
it took, to get to you.
On A Feather In The Wind

      As I continue to age, it just
Keeps Getting Harder to pretend
I’m past the point of no return
And life is closer to the end

I’ve Rock & Rolled all nite and partied
Every day and now I must comprehend
Holding on to sixteen as long as I can is
Crazy, now I guess it’s time to transcend

As the cloud of depression covers me
And the Demons begin to descend
I have a Butterfly Angel watching over me
And against them my life she will defend

But even she can’t stop my natural decline
And time will pass with out a way to suspend
And my time will come and no money
Can ever buy any time to extend

But baby If I should go before you
You’ll still feel my love deep within
Every day you’ll still receive my love
I will send it On A Feather In The Wind

Written By:Charles Kean
05/25/2024
2
Humans became the dominant of every kind,
When they turned from muscle, to using the mind.
And to their apex, they started to reach,
Giving up instinct, and learning to Teach.
These notes may be the longest, thing I ever write on this site. This poem is dedicated to a teacher who got me interested in poetry. Ninth grade English class. MS Babttista had just on a Friday, announced we would begin a study on poetry, the following week. Our assignment was over the weekend, to write a poem. I was upset, I was a budding football player and poetry was for girls and sissies. There was still about 15 minutes left in class, so I wrote the poem #1 below and tossed it on her desk. When I arrived back on Monday, while she was picking up my fellow students poems, she handed mine back. On the top was an "A" with the note "Nice read, thanks for taking the time, to make it rhyme. See me after class. I was glad and surprised by the "A" but worried about meeting her. After class she asked how I was able to write it so fast, and did I just make it up. I told her I had never tried to write a poem in my life. She said I might just have a future. She then handed me a dog eared copy of the poems of Robert Frost, and told me it was one of her favorites, and she would like me to have it. He is my favorite to this day. As all of you know, I'm not and will never be a good poet, but she started me searching for good poetry. Poem #2 is my effort to thank her and all "Teachers". You will know now that my "tag line" on many of you fellow trying poets, was "plagiarized" from a former beloved teacher. But, I consider it the highest of praises! Please keep writing. Thanks for reading, Denny R. Allison.
A Juicy Fruit wrapper, lays crumpled on the floor,
over there between my desk and the door.
How many people worked to get it just right.
That paper, that will get swept up tonight.
That Juicy Fruit wrapper crumpled on the floor,
over there between my desk and the door.
Looking back, it seems to be.
Loving relatives, at the
  age, of about three,  
Taught me a prayer,
   to say upon my knee,
And set upon the
 tribe, for me.
Making sympathy hard, for
    other tribes, to see.
A struggle, even now,
    to break free.
May we find a way
  "My Plea"
You can burn a book
but not its truth
Flames no match
for time’s reproof

Planted deep
below the lime
Its seeds will flower
— where light to shine

(West Campus: May 6, 2024)
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