"sutton" poems
The cemetery was my circus I found
After outgrowing fantasy and the playground.
Golden afternoons in the country after school,
My blood having no resemblance, no ancestors,
To all the Sutton's and Smotherman's and Suddeth's
Who here resided with Tennessee pride. Inside and outside.
The still silence of my childhood cemetery carried an eerie air. I wanted to be here.
The peaceful calm, it called me back,
The king cawing crow, attending in black.
As for any of the lost, perhaps content, Confederate souls,
Who have yet to cross over, lamenting or dozed.
I suspect now, that it was I who startled those ghosts.
My blood, my frequency, my scent of the coast,
Sent from a Union ancestry my vibration still boasts...
How unexpected was I to those Tennessee ghosts.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 3:52 AM UTC
I never really liked gardening before
But I needed to fix up the one down back
It was getting like an empty space
Behing my appartment on a track
I'm only young so much to be done
And an old gardener saw me there
Came over and said need a hand
Goodness yes as I pinned back my hair
Wasn't long and I loved gardening so
Older gardeners they really do know
How to get it all as I'd dreamed some
And how to make it beautiful and grow
Now I'm in that garden every chance
And when he sees me he will call around
I have a secret or two just how it all grew
Among my lemon grass upon the ground
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
The dragonflies and meadow-sweet
Follow the banks of ‘The Wandle’
Allowing what is hidden and not heard
Behind posted iron railings
To be noted, found on a map, imagined
Its very name conjures up the river’s journey
Drawing one into its currents and flows
A place of beauty where time seems slow
Rippling the edges of thought, living as a space,
Exploration, given by inclusion and exclusion
Forever to ‘wandle along’ under the sky
Between the gaps in the real
And what finds itself from what
Came before in experience and words.
Love Mary x
The River Wandle is the largest river of the south southwest sector of London, England. Its name is thought to derive from the community around its mouth, Wandsworth. About 9 miles long, it passes through the London Boroughs of Croydon, Sutton, Merton, and Wandsworth to join the River Thames on the Tideway..
Mouth: River Thamesnn
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 7:01 AM UTC
An Aussie sense of humor
Very hard to understand
At times if you do not
Come from Australia land
Some times they simply say things
To give a warm feeling and a smile
Mostly a little cheeky at best too
But with love and all worth while
They flirt like cowboys in cowgirls
Be they often in life young and old
And they d never refuse a dance
And can be at times a little bold
But I guess they simply realize
That a long time we are dead
And they love to laugh and tell a joke
Or listen to a good one instead
Some things they say would shock at times
And how they all love test a smile
Just to be a little naughty I guess
But good friends all of the while
They'd go out of their way to help a soul
At any time of day that might be
They are funny on the surface
And treat all mostly as if family
A special kind of being Australians
Its always been the very same
They love life and they love all
And very seldom will they blame
A little too kind hearted are they
But thats the way that they all are
And they know a good sense of humor
Will often take you far
Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 2018
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC
Theres an original Aussie lingo
That out there one can hear~
Most of all when you are in the country
And places like that you love so dear~
RIPPA RITA , An aussie bush expression of rejoice~
When something really goes so well
And usually not by choice~
FAIR DINKUM means simply for real
Are you fair dinkum mate~
STRUTH another real Aussie expression
A bush word for something that you hate~
Just a few words of real Aussie lingo
You might hear now and again~
SEND HER DOWN HUGHY they'll cry
When they reall do need rain~
STONE THE CROWS you'll hear them yell
When something happens by surprise~
Often in the country
When they can't believe their eyes~
HOWZ ZAT a bloke will often call out
when he manages to do something better than right~
And very indeed proud of himself
Without trying to skite~
RIGHTIO dad will call out to mum
When she hollows don't forget to get the bread~
TOO FLAMEN RIGHT he'll say back to her
When she says well ... did ja get it ted~
YA GREAT GALLOOT is what they'll call you
When you do something really wrong~
So much original Aussie lingo
They should put it all within a song~
SHIELA'S are of course suingle women
Who often are as well called BIRDS~
All this fantastic Aussie terminology
How I miss all these words~
Ocker's are usually blokes in shorts and thongs
They call thongs Japanese riding boots~
CODJA'S are older blokes
Sometimes they call them COOT'S~
COCKIES are blokes that own properties
STRIKEN A BLOW is a term for work~
BLUDGERS are those that don't like do do it
And being lazy is to of course SHIRK~
All that age old aussie lingo
I miss it so I do~
Can't wait to say HOWZ YA GOEN MATE
And G DAY to a mate or two~
It's all got a sound of it's own
One gets used to it in life~
Like the LITTLE WOMEN and THE BETTER HALF
Is what they call a wife a wife~
( Was'nt game to use spell check lol )
https://youtu.be/PT331BRkkP0
Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright 2018
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC
WE ARE THE CHILDREN OF GOD ,,
And as such ,,,
This well could actually be our
elementary schooling ,
In classroom earth we've just not long moved in
To start our years of learning~
Others have been here for their time
As they for knowledge we are yearning~
We've found a lot of mysteries here
Ones that this time we cannot explain~
But we will have the answers when
We've done our years of rein~
Its said in scrolls and the many bibles of God
Gods day is a thousand years to our day one~
So we've only been here six days yet
According to the teachings now of some~
But the ages of this classroom earth
Go back before our knowledge and our knowing
Many different races , species , and gifts of God
Have been in this classroom longer than winds blowing
Our past loves ones spent time in classroom earth
They learned in their way as we've to do~
Then too moved on to yet another higher class
To see the rest of their schooling through~
One by one they've all left this class
As one by one we as well eventually will do~
And one by one this time around
We like them will go to higher classes too~
We wont need or use our bodies there at all
Just our intellect and love~
Lots of positive loving imagination as well
And always help from God both around us and above~
Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 1978
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 8:00 AM UTC
We all have an aura .. Around our bodies
Aura magnetic aura's are they
Like a magnet one side attracts the other
Pushes some things thus so away
How often has one said she's lovely he's not
What had her choose him wondering why
How often has one been drawn to another
So many have remarked re this cannot deny
Walking into a room one's drawn to another
Or as well pushed away from one the see
It's like a magnet pulling pushing drawing
It's the science of lovedoing it's thing basicly
One's aura is a powerful thing at times in life
Doing as it does so often naturally in it's way
Bringing souls together or rejecting them
Without us knowing often upon night or day
Aura's indicate positive negative like dislike
It's a natural thing that surrounds us true
Aura's read Red anger Yellow cowardness
And sadness at times comes in shades of blue
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 12:43 AM UTC
Working on a large sheep prperty once
On days not much doing way out dig cactus
One day doing just this I caught a flash
Owner on his old horse up a hill for practice
Watching me the old coot he was that day
To see if I on my own was doing my work
The sun sent me a flash from his binoculars
The old guy was an untrusting kind of ****
Just below me a soil erosion twent feet deep
That ran for about a real good mile away
I rode down and right up it for a mile
And right up behind him fifty tards I say
Tied up my horse sat under a big old tree
Rolled myself a smoke and watched him
Looking all over away down there was he
Chances finding me down there were slim
He was getting so frustrated binoculars too
Where the hell did that bloke go he said
Looking all about for me that day was he
I just smiled rolled another smoke instead
Him standing in his old half worn saddle
Where the hell did that bloke I ask go
I'll be having a real good talk to him later
Can't trust anyone I said nows a good ya know
http://i197.photobucket.com/albums/aa290/tracymay27/CowboyCampFire.jpg
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 5:55 AM UTC
After Pamela Sutton’s “Forty”
Since when are words lost, numbers dominating?
Until today, it was vernacular, not mathematics.
All changed at 18
when numbers engulfed my life like a tsunami.
1 life.
1 drive to school, traffic on the 405, 25 minutes;
10-minute parking; first class at 8.
8 dollars per hour x 3 day work week = no shopping.
Under my parents’ life insurance,
for now.
One life.
One dream of commencement, a sea of black and gold;
students as adults, graduating, growing up,
careers: the only things that matter now.
One dream of wheeling a patient into the OR
and he grasps my hand.
One saved life.
66 specialties for a nurse.
8 stories in CHOC Hospital;
279 beds.
One goal for everyone; nurses, patients, families—
disease-free, healthy.
One hospital specializing in children;
one in Orange, thousands of facilities.
One late night in Riverside the kitchen fluorescents
slowly brings the eyes of two, one father, one daughter,
to a close.
58 notecards, handwriting messy and smudged.
12 prefixes, 37 roots, 9 suffixes.
44 years: 1 student: Dad.
The point where my future was clear.
One goal, one career,
one life.
The subtle hum of the white lights lulls us to sleep
as the room slowly darkens.
September 2013
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
If one day my pen became a brush
Oh how I'd paint so well for you~
I do love so as well in life to paint
But can't seem to do it here it's true~
I'd paint for you the mountains and the trees
The cloud formations , sandy beaches long~
I'd paint my true love , and all above
With colors pastel and so gently strong~
Such scenes of care beyond compare
How I'd paint the sun and as well the moon~
If my pen was to become but a brush
I'd paint dew drops on a red balloon~
Rays of sunshine wet on roses
Butterflies in flight~
If my pen was but a brush
How I'd paint as well as write~
If my pen became a brush its true
I'd even paint your smile~
I'd paint how I feel about just you
And how I'd do so with such style~
If my pen became a brush
I'd paint the whole world for you~
And if my pen became a brush
I'd paint of my love for you so true~
Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright 2018
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
I offer a few quiet
words under my breath. (1)
“I wish you a tongue
scalded by tea.”(2)
“I was born
of the fist. The hot Irish
Temper.”(3) “I am a master of Escape. Show me a body,
I’ll show you an exit ramp.”(4)
(For,) I want everything
to call me night.(5)
This is the dream where I play
God. And the front door opens(6)
In lakes, floating
logs ignite, burn. All the
fury is finally here:(7)
Once wayfaring strangers(8) as tall as steal as the New York Times(9)
that once they sang from our dark street (10), the song goes: Heart.
Ribcage. Envelope.(11)
____________________
(1) Adam Falkner, Poem for the Lovers at Pickerel Lake, http://friggmagazine.com/issuethirtysix/poetry/falkner/pickerel.htm
(2) Jeanann Verlee, Guilt, Not Grief, http://www.wordriot.org/archives/4780
(3) Jeanann Verlee, The Brawler, http://www.radiuslit.org/2011/04/09/radius-roger-bonair-agard-jeanann-verlee-adam-falkner/
(4) Joanna Hoffman, On Learning to Open My Eyes, http://www.pankmagazine.com/three-poems-37/
(5) Kallie Falandays, If Morning Never Comes, http://www.pankmagazine.com/two-poems-75/
(6) Benjamin Sutton, Notes from the Daydreaming, http://anti-poetry.com/anti/suttonbe/
(7) Jenny Sadre-Orafai, Treasure In Timber, http://www.pankmagazine.com/two-poems-74/
(8) Lauren Yates, The World According to My Heart, http://usedfurniturereview.com/2013/03/20/the-world-according-to-my-heart-by-lauren-yates/
(9) Robert Gibbons, These Mean Streets, http://www.poembeat.com/fall2011/RobertGibbons.html
(10) Michael Lauchlan, Unseen Larks and Immeasurable Intervals, http://www.thrushpoetryjournal.com/march-2013-michael-lauchlan.html
(11) Leigh Philips, Dear New York City, Learn Gentle, http://www.thrushpoetryjournal.com/march-2013-leigh-phillips.html
(*) Jeanann Verlee, Good Girl, http://www.thrushpoetryjournal.com/january-2013-jeanann-verlee.html
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
We two sitting out upon the verandah
On a Sunday late may cooler afternoon
And you were knitting clicking away
As I sat enjoying a port when very soon
Two birds so high away up in the blue sky
I stopped and turned around looking at you
You looking over your glasses saying .. what
You waiting for my answer a puzzled true
I said look at those two birds away up there
Side by side of how they together as one fly
Both in the very same direction perfectly
And they are only birds will be till they die
You and I can't agree on anything at all
Try to do so we do so every other single day
Since I married you down the street its true
We spend most of conversation arguing I say
They are only birds and always flying as one
Regardless of the weather come what may
And here we are a supposed inteligent species
Yet we argue over everything every single day
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 12:04 AM UTC
A poet writes of life as they know it to be
Of things that matter so to them~
They share their thoughts and feelings so
Of future' Their now ' Away back when~
Positivity in every way although
Life has in reality it's up's and down's~
If one does not see life as it is
Within some fantassy world so many drown~
Life for the most created now by man alone
The life we know today it's true~
The life the poet now sees in reality
Has mans touch all of the way through~
But as well a poet tries to see all the flowers
And the love that is still to be found~
Nature and all of Gods gifts to us
And good loving hearts and souls around~
At those that look deeply within a soul
Regardless of colour and or race~
At all of Gods own children
And at our one planet here in space~
A poet feels the very pain
As they as well feel the joy~
And the love of all upon earth
Of every born girl and boy~
Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright ( Originally 2007 ) 2018
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
Planting a tree is a good thing
But remember it must survive on it's own-
Planting a small grove of two or three
Each one helps the other till grown-
When and if one happens to suffer
The others drop leaves and water too-
Watering roots and providing shade
Helping the others to make it through-
Trees provide air upon our earth
Without them we'er in trouble true-
Planting a small grove of trees
Is a more than wonderful thing to do-
Down in a corner not used much
Down by a river away-
A small grove of trees provide shelter
For birds and wild life every day-
One third they say of our earths air
Comes from forests away they cut all the time-
Planting a tree I'm sure you'll agree
Is a way to help all far down the line-
Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 2018 ( First written years ago ) ..
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
I've learned all teachers of life taught me
I have always walked a strictest lin
Did all those who are my equals said to
And might I say did them better more so fine
But before my soul decided another lesson
To be born to free to be the captain of my soul
Way over time I researched few things sublime
And listenened to this very own soul of mine
Who gave any the right to instruct their way
Upon my soul since it became myself long ago
Its time I let go and its time I flew to feelings new
Its time I listened to my souls experience to know
Time I undressed time I confessed its simplytime
That I took over inmy own souls fields of clover true
Well over time I ignored their oh so holy advice
Loved life more hell to heaven all things old and new
Time for a time I knew moments so fine ever sublime
Time I undressed confessed and by passed this mess
Well over time I loved more this soul of mine
And with a likwise thinker spent time and flew
(( I'VE NEVER BEEN TO ME ))
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
Endless souls we know from go to woe
Sometimes theres a few that will never know~
All souls are born and live and learn and exist
But theres always a few of this will never be kissed~
All souls live and leave to rise above
But theres a few sadly who will not know the gift of love~
It's lifes most priceless gift ever to be
And for those who find it it's ecstasy~
Once found nothing this gift can anything destroy
The real precious true love of a girl and boy~
It lasts forever and always in time
The gift of true love for ever divine~
So many sadly they come and sadly they go
But theres sadly a few this gift of love will ever know
It's there for one and it's there for all
But only ones heart can hear its call~
Only those that know it could ever explain
How now they wont need to seach for true love again~
It's the highest emotion the gift of true love
One of the most priceless of gifts from god above~
Clever souls adapt the ability to see
It within the very eyes of those so inlove that be~
It lasts forever and till the end of time
The gift of love forever divine~
Sadly always a few that will not know of its thrill
Ever so sadly some they never will~
Unless they listen to the strings of their hearts and souls
And seach for same as was in days of old~
No gift as precious as priceless on earth or above
As the knowing you have found the gift of true love~
If all on earth could only know
And hear those words I love you so~
To be with another as hand in glove
To know that feeling of the gift of love~
Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 2018
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 8:09 PM UTC
Away back in the beginning of time
Their became a plan~
To organize the earths greatest concert ever
That would be through the earth and land~
A one and only first time ever
Concert such as this upon this earth~
North,East,South ,West,
Around the planet girth to girth~
Created naturally by earths own nature
Supported right throughout of every land~
By every living thing and entity that be
To create a musical symphony ever grand~
A concert of nature to have all upon earth
To be all ever so very aware~
Of all the sounds and music and gifts of nature
All playing their own beyond compare~
Of all natures music upon this earth
In such a perfect and natural way~
Of all the sounds that are around to be heard
From every part of earth,land sea,night or day~
All played and performed only from nature
As only nature it's self would have it be~
Every single entity playing it's own songs
One grand natural symphony~
From all of things on earth that always existed
And from many more that still exist today~
As much recording effort was simply not needed
To have them all so naturally sing and play~
Sounds of nature and songs from all entities
From wind,the ocean and breeze~
From even smallest crickets to the elephants
All take part in natures songs with ease~
The rain it played it's many rhythms
And how all the breezes lent such a hand~
Smallest frogs within natures natural brooks
All singing in tune from mountains tops down to beach sand~
The many tall trees play their forest flutes
All gardens put on such a display~
With all from butterflies to busy bees
Every entity producing their music natures way~
Endless birds singing their songs
Babbling brooks playing over washed clean stones~
And even upon the wildernesses many planes
The wind their plays songs with grasses,sand and bones~
Not a natural animal or insect to be left out
Every single smallest and largest thing~
All part of natures gifts and talents
As one the sounds of nature they all sing~
The largest ever to be natural earths own concert
All in tune to this day is still taking place~
Nature never needed to record it at all
As it is always playing perfectly with natural grace~
One could not list all of the musicians
So many and so well how they play~
Free of charge non stop day and night
Natures gift nobody has to pay~
One never needs to buy it as it's free
For one and all upon this earth~
All they have to do is stop to listen
To natures symphonies of such worth~
Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright 2008
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
It matters not who you are where from
Each entity has and is a soul things to say
What it sees from where its standing
Upon any given night and any given day
Each soul has a voice and every poem too
Is what it wishes us to experience knowing
From wanting us to gather information
Happiness sadness Love from winds blowing
We make it harder for our souls thinking
That we controll our fate destiny and way
Instead of listening to our souls own voice
And what it has us for us to explore any day
Be it love in all forms from lust to simple care
And it gets angry with us ignoring its request
We often give ourselves advice its our ignorance
Not having been there yet not knowing of its test
Convincing ourselves we know when we do not
Telling others of our own ideas how it should be
Reasons why we should listen to it act upon it
Have bodies minds hearts sail that unsailed sea
It comes to us with a thought a wish a need
And we decide oh no thats not for me and so
We miss its requests for us to find out first
Before speaking for it not allowing do it go
Think of all many advise without knowing
Of things we have never known but insist
Of things situations emotions never learned
Feelings we feel not me but still never kissed
Saving ourselves religious fantasy from equals
Listening to endless advice from pretenders
Who never have been there but know it all
Without lives putting lives through blenders
Ignoring our own souls requests playing god
Our souls get angry adding karma to awake
Then us blaming others life others unknowing
When its ourselves to blame our own mistake
Walk those paths never walked befor then advise
Know more of things we ridicule often true
Know what a situation feels like first of all
They might be way better than we ever knew
Endless reason there are for allowing our souls
To request us to do as it wants us to do
Then after we experience pass its tests
We might like dislike love admire of them true
Many reasons are there for its voice being poetry
Try to read others writes between lines that be
Think deep then write of how you imagine was
If not known then go sail that unknown sea
https://sep.yimg.com/ay/yhst-13927681880659/bronze-the-thinker-sculpture-2.jpg
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
At times one gets the notion to get lost
Just walk upon a track many seldom go
Take a staff to steady the rough stuff
Supplies shelter food some tools its so
Camera mobile spare batties axe knife
Pens pads matches or lense for camp fire
Alone your soul your home your very own
Peaceful thinking time bed roll silent desire
Ridding ones mind of stresses not yours
Allowing mind soul to take an earned break
Away from endless followers of total garbage
You the moon stars natures gifts thus to take
Away from gas bag preachers politicians too
A fool a mule knows how they lie as they do
Wasting others lives like the wasps in hives
Such a time its time of this time I knew
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRUojXUAVtxElL3c2ysK3b5YqCy8x0S2EdHNGscTuUKaWSCYm77
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 9:34 PM UTC
The moon dazzled me last night,
As I woke from dreams of Saxon warriors.
Swords and shores helmed deep
Across the years.
A ship sunk In a low east hill
A helmet turns with the lunar tide.
Bodies and bone turned to sand
Empty caskets blank to the starry sky,
Warriors, lovers, beholders
Slip into their Earth.
A graveyard of ship sails and men
The tongue of a dragon whispers
And calls them from the depths
Of the river
To clear water on the other side.
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
To me its so important smell in life
A fragence tells me all I need to know
If a meal smells good it tastes good
Some flowers I like others just not so
I can even smell the oncoming rain
I love the smell of first drop dry ground
I love my personal after shave deodorant
A smell talks volumes without a sound
Some womens perfume stops me dead
I love the smell of scones freshly made
I love the smell of natural countryside
The oceans salty oxygen of highest grade
I can always tell if my mothers about
Besides the fact shes been dead for years
Her Lilly Of The Valley how it lingers
My fathers tobacco same deal same tears
Smells are to me everything I need to know
Mostly good plus a few somewhat bad
I don't need to see as long as I can smell
They make me happy sometimes sad
terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 9:18 PM UTC
How long has the world known war
In some place or another over time~
It seems that there's always been one
Right down the history's longest vine~
One could not count the lives lost
Or the damage that wars alone have done~
Upon this beautiful planet
All those wars in time lost and won~
Some say war does employ lots of people
Gives everyone a job to do~
That newspapers make a fortune
Helps some politicians make it through~
It would be just so easy
For all to simply get along~
To work a little harder with each other
And all sing an earthly united song~
To lend a hand to poorer nations
And invite others to visit our shore~
For all countries to put their best foot forward
And yet still remain who they are for ever more~
If they could only not make God on earth
Money as it is now almost in every way~
People could still get rich don't panic
But life could be so loving and caring to this day~
Those in government could play more golf
And maybe even do more to help the poor~
So many tablets the sick and dying could afford
Without all the money spent alone on war~
Hospitals would be as they do their best to be
Travel would be affordable by all~
People would be helping each other all the time
And the number in prisons it would fall~
Doctors once more calling into homes
As they did when I was a lad~
Just to see how things were going along
Before this earth become somewhat more than sad~
Souls from different countries getting married
The racial thing would simply not exist~
More was ever done in life with love
Than ever accomplished with the fist~
It would be so very easy but of course
We have those on earth that would never agree~
As they don't care about love and friendship and happiness
It's whats yours is mine and mine belongs to me~
We come into this life with nothing
And when we go we take the same~
Our earth , our only home could be heaven on earth
But not as long as we've got war and hate and blame~
I often wonder why behind ever war
is religion .. How many know that
UNIQUE WEAPONS ( is it ) is owned by and one of
the Catholics largest investments
Terrence Michael Sutton
Copyright 2002
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Heaven Sutton was a little girl
of Chicago’s poor west side.
There turf wars rage
where rival gangs
Use bullets to decide.
A child of seven shouldn’t
Have to fear to walk the streets.
A poor mother shouldn’t
Have to buy a dress
for her forever sleep.
Heaven Sutton was gunned down
by a bullet gone astray.
Now mother’s keep their kids close by
afraid to let them play.
Should lawmen sweep the streets of
Guns?
Society must decide.
But on these streets no child is safe
Since the night that Heaven died.
Heaven Sutton, aged 7, was victim #251 of Chicago's "tough" anti Gun laws since the beginning of the year.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 7:20 PM UTC
Every likker batch was his last,
including the carbon monoxide.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
The days are long and hard to go,
Walkin' down my side of the road.
Up ahead I see Emmylou comin' ,
known her since we was 2 or 3.
Yet, she crosses over from,
My side of the road,
Making like she don’t see me.
Up ahead comes old Nat Black,
Shuffling along and limping some,
He marched with Mister King,
Over in Selma in ‘63,
That’s how he got that limp you see.
But still he keeps to his side of the road,
On the opposite side from me.
Further ahead comes Jake Sutton’s kid,
Strutting along at a pretty brisk clip,
A stout club in one hand,
and a white sheet tucked under his arm.
Off I bet, to burn a cross somewheres.
Him and his rowdy friends cluttering up,
both sides of this road I tread.
Sleepy little ‘Bama town,
With so much trouble all around,
I just keep on trudging down,
My side of the road.
Hoping someday, it will lead us all,
Someplace better and fair,
Then this divided road we all share.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC