AMPLE ROOM TO GROW


AMPLE ROOM TO GROW

There are many who believe there are no angels,

But I believe angels walk wherever there is light.

When we block the light,

 We are deceived by demons who are quick

To lead us astray.

I make choices, not just to please others,

But to prove who I am, and who I want to be.

I am not deceived to think only good exists,

Or that evil is out of control.

Neither do I believe that evil drives my soul.

I realize that hormonal imbalances, prescriptions and

Drugs not meant for you or me,

Stress to a high degree,

Listening to the beat of different drums,

Persuasions of power or envy,

All take their toll as I struggle to make sense of an illogical world.

I believe there are liars who walk among us,

And sometimes it is me.

I am not a psychologist who understands all I need to know,

I make many mistakes, which leaves ample room to grow.

I am just a simple poet who goes where few care to go.

I walk among you but I am no angel.

My light shines in the darkness but many lights are needed to illuminate the world.

I want laughter, not tears, Wisdom, not fear,

I am broken, needing repair, needing love, not despair.

I walk among you not as an angel, but as a friend.

Give me your hand and we will lift each other up to the Promised Land.

stresschoic8/5/17

STATUE OF LIBERTY


STATUE OF LIBERTY

If the Statue of Liberty could talk,

What would she say to citizens today?

She might say, “I would not give the keys to my heart

To everyone by capricious whim.

There are those I would keep out,

And those I would invite in.

I would open the doors each day

And smile at those who come to work or pray,

An island greeting those who are ready to share,

The opportunities and love discovered here.

Those who come with bigotry and hate

And those who haven’t learned to celebrate

Differences,

I would ask them to wait.

My land is home for the weary, a place of hope,

A place they can adjust and learn to cope,

A place to shake fear from timid heart,

Leaving violence behind and getting a new start.

The keys to my heart would only be given

To those with new lives to begin.

This country was founded on blood, grit, and tears.

On that basis I have lasted for years.

To those who are here to prey

And steal all precious dreams away,

There should not be left any doubt.

I would select many to come in,

But there are those I would keep out.”

August 4, 2017

The Ocean Is Going, Going, Gone!


THE BEAUTIFUL  POLLUTED SEA

 

I must go down to the sea again,

And once more plead our case,

But what more can I say

To defend the human race?

The greenhouse effect

Nature will correct

But will the ocean always survive?

 

I must go down to the sea again

To stare into the sea’s angry eyes,

The gulls no longer scream at me

Or turn cartwheels in the sky.

There’s not much good left on earth,

The spaceships are full of trash

I can’t get away and there’s no place I can fly.

 

I must go down to the sea again,

To count the fish that have died,

I’ll run in the morning mist,

And pretend I was kissed

By a nymph who still has a smile.

I’ve been told the ocean is cleaner

Than when Columbus sailed the ocean blue,

But I’m not convinced; what about you?

 

I want to go down to the seas again

While the sea still has a chance at life,

It won’t be long before life’s all gone

And heroes will sail no more,

One more trip aboard a ship

Before we cast Satan overboard,

Quoth the angel to Satan,”Nevermore.!

 I must go to the seas again,

But I know it’s already too late.

The sea is rising along the shore

And the world will fight its fate

Like a fish it will go belly up

And sing the warrior song

Beautiful world! We who are about to die,

Salute you.

Stack our bodies and start the flames,

The ones who fought , remember their names

Honor them forevermore.

We fought with vigor, and we fought with  pride.

The ocean covers all our friends who lived and died.

 

The ocean is overflowing with God’s own tears

Because of man and his foolish pride.

I must go down to the sea again,

But I’ve long forgotten why.

No one wants to try.

June 9, 2017

 

 

 

LET’S CHANGE THE WORLD’S VIEW


“Go away,” I said.

“I have no time to argue with you.”

Two young men stood at my door.

“May we come in?” one asked,

Evidently expecting more.

“No, I’m busy.  I don’t have time to waste.”

I was in the middle of writing a verse,

Did I need the distraction? No, I wanted to immerse

Deep into meditation,

Fill my head with ideas of things I could do,

Pray for a world that has a different view.

I said, “Let’s get on our knees and pray

For those who are hurt today.

There are bombings, terrorism, slavery, things we might stress

Our children are dying or under duress.

Attacks, wars, famine, disasters in our range.

Help the sick, the poor, Let’s do what we can,

This world is ready for us to step on the stage

Give aid to others then turn the page.

Let all things be beautiful all over the earth,

We can work together and show our worth.

All religions, all dreams, respect for all people

Whoever they might be,

We could join forces and change history.

Wars could be over in the blink of an eye,

I know it sounds strange, but let’s try, let’s try.

6/4/2017

PEACE


There will be no peace,

Unless there are no lies.

There will be no love,

Unless we try to understand each other.

We can talk forever without saying a truth.

We can speak of hope,

But let hope slip away.

We can laugh together,

And keep war at bay.

There will never be peace,

Without songs of joy and faith.

Although volumes of poetry will be written,

The world can never truly have peace,

Until all people are treated with respect and love.

6/3/2017

WHAT PORTION SHOULD I KEEP?


My dreams, my thoughts, my love, my life, my time
if I divided my day into precious moments
which ones would I keep
and which ones would I waste?
if every part was subdivided and clean,
would I be satisfied with only a taste?
what parts would I cling to?
Wasted life, unmanaged thoughts, neglected love, unfulfilled dreams,
I’m organizing now, paring down my list of friends, leaving no room for love.
I’m tired now, there is less joy, fewer ideas to employ,
I see my problem. I like to collect.
I want bigger dreams, more powerful thoughts, passionate love, longer life, and time for each friend and loved one. How can I portion out my life so it has more meaning?
I can choose to love you more, share my dreams, help those in need, and my life and my time will fill the void.

June 1, 2017

TOMORROW IS THE BEST DAY


Every day is sweeter than the day before,
Every day I love life a little bit more.
Starting with eye raising exercises,
Making my eyes look full of surprises.
Leaping out of bed, (o.k. If I’m honest instead)
I crawl out and sometimes bump my head.
I stumble down the hall, holding on to the wall,
Realize I’m getting shorter than ever, I’m growing small.
Saying, Parkinson’s Disease, you ain’t got me yet!
I mumble a few other words like….oh I forget,
But it’s still a beautiful day, and nothing’s in my way,
There are Tigers (lilies) and Lions (dandelions)
A whole world full of animals, wild, and free,
Living with gusto just like me, don’t you agree?
Sooner or later I might take a swim,
I might wait until the ocean is filled to the brim.
Splash around in water trying not to sink.
Wondering where’s my woman? She’s my missing link.
But I manage to survive another fine day
With God’s abundant love packed around my solitary life,
And just maybe I could have survived a wife.
I remember to count the stars shimmering silver on black,
They remind me there’s nothing I need and nothing I lack.
But just in case I forgot even one little thing,
There’s always tomorrow to add to my list
One more time to kiss or be kissed,
Tonight when I bow down to pray,
I’ll say ,Lord, I’m ready but I need one more day.
P.S.
And Lord, I have three more blogs to write
And three more books, no, not tonight,
I’m writing about you, and I need more time.
There’s a few poems also with a little rhyme.
And I haven’t seen Sri Lanka, Moscow, or Idaho,
Your world is beautiful, you put on a show.
Yes, I’m finished with your world. I’d like to show it.
It’ll slow me down in the ground.
But it’ll take time BECAUSE I’m a poet.

May 24,2017

DESCEND


I saw peace in the form of a dove descending,
Peace, sent from above, being offered to all people, including me.
“Who wants peace?” I asked. I was sure all would agree.
“Not me,” I heard over and over again.
“We don’t want peace when there’s a chance to win!”
A dark cloud began to descend. Lightning flashed and a storm began.
“And if we lose?” I asked.
“You are a pessimist!” someone shouted. “Let the wars begin!”
I fell on my face, as did many of other languages, color, or place.
“Lord, forgive those who wage war. They don’t know what they ask.”
One bright ray came through the cloud.
“IF ONE MILLION SEEK PEACE IT WILL BE ALLOWED!”
I shook my head. The seekers of peace were few.
I already knew that peace might be through.
“Lord, how about a thousand who want peace?”
A bolt of lightning, then thunder shook the ground.
This should be easy. I’m sure a thousand are around.
But war was the topic of the day.
“We will win this war quickly,” I heard people say.
“Lord, how about a measly ten?”
But people were already making their choice.
They spoke of the good things about war and of the same voice.
Dark clouds were building in the sky.
“DON’T THEY REALIZE HOW MANY WILL DIE?”
The Lord began weeping because people were keeping
their eyes and ears closed and accepting war as their reality.
I looked around. Not even ten wanting peace could be found.
Peace, which had been descending, disappeared into the clouds.
I was no longer proud.
Less than ten, and even those were beginning to bend.
“Lord, will you let me begin again?”
A new Garden of Eden where peace could restart,
Love at the center of each remaining heart,
Yet as I gazed upon the Garden, I saw the dove descend.
Just for a moment I saw a perfect world,
I gasped, “Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel!”
One small chance to choose wisely right from the start,
And I already knew Cain carried murder in his heart.
What could I do differently than this other man?
Was I willing to try harder and keep peace in my plan?
I looked up and saw the dove again.
“YOU HAVE A CHOICE.
CHOOSE LOVE AT THE BEGINNING AND PEACE WILL DESCEND.”

May 20, 2017

SACRED TO ME


My parents lived in an old house,

filled with cats, dogs, children,

memories of relatives,

worn tattered furniture.

It didn’t take much to evoke the past,

Pull up the shadowy images of

children who climbed trees,

Played kick the can together

Times that went by too fast.

Those memories are sacred,

Often I dredge them up

and clean them until they shine.

They may not mean anything to others

But they are sacred to me,

And they will always be.

No Rain in Sight


the crickets were forecasting the weather last night,

singing, “No rain in sight, No rain in sight!”

wells are drying up, businesses are shutting down,

soon no one will be living in this deserted town.

today two men were chastised for washing their car,

I’ve got to escape real soon to someplace real far.

my friends are looking at me with evil in their eyes,

my well is still working but i’m beginning to tell lies.

if they only knew I took a bath last night,

they’d sputter and yell and say it wasn’t right.

then one and all would leave with a frown,

and sometime at night my house might burn down.

I’ve got to be careful when crickets sing their song.

anything I might say could be construed as wrong.

I’m breathing dust that hangs heavy in the air,

there’s no rain in sight, so beware, beware!

by dan roberson

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