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

YOU THINK?


Your story reminds me of an incident that happened long ago and far away, and it’s a true story.  I was divorced and dating a woman with three kids.  The oldest child would do some creative thinking when he was bored.  He could be very good but he was bored often and needed attention.  One afternoon I decided we could go to a park and play softball.  It seemed harmless enough at the time.

the kids weren’t ready to play so they began looking for things to rip apart or accidently destroy. I was young once so that seemed reasonable. When they began throwing rocks at each other, I was hesitant about letting it continue. But their mother thought it was o.k. until another family complained about the rocks bouncing off their car.  They suggested we take our family to a quiet place with thick metal bars.

We compromised by letting them throw water balloons at each other.  Harmless, right? It didn’t take long before they were soaked and cold.  They didn’t have other clothes to wear so they began whining and fighting.  Perfectly normal, right? The oldest began teasing his sister.  His mom blew up! She was tired of all the noise.

They were hungry, wet, and cold. I suggested I could buy them lunch at a mini mart close by.  I pulled up, set the hand brake and kept it in gear. The space was slanted but we were all going inside. But, no! Because the oldest had been bad he would be punished by staying in the car. No supervision, one mad child, hungry, cold, wanting to get away……Now it doesn’t seem like such a good idea.  At the time I was very concerned but I went inside with them.

It didn’t immediately dawn on me that customers and workers were running in the same direction for a reason. I wanted to see what was so exciting!  I was almost run over by the crowd so I went to check on Toby. I thought he must have seen the exciting action(whatever it was).  There was a catch! I couldn’t find Toby,  And, yes, the car was missing!

While we were in the store Toby decided he would run away, er, drive away. He was able to take the car out of gear AND release the hand brake. When nothing was holding the car in place, Toby turned the steering wheel and the car went backwards down the hill, up a small ramp, jumped over two cars without touching them, and came to a stop suspended between two large lamp posts. I climbed up and carefully opened the front passenger door.  Two dark eyes in a very pale face stared back at me.

“Toby, are you o.k.?” I asked him several questions before turning him over to his mother. Cars were blocked from using the road so two tow trucks hooked onto my car, front and back, and slowly lowered it to the ground.  I gathered everybody and we returned to civilization. Score: nobody hurt, no damage to car, no arrests.  Just one tired boy with one big adventure. And yes, just like many of my stories, I believe angels always watch over me and those with me.

july 23, 2017

 

 

NEIGHBORS


NEIGHBORS

There is something odd about my neighbor,

I guess she’s under some kind of stress.

She stares without seeing,

And plays with the buttons on her dress.

She avoids attention, even light from the sun,

And I would swear she’s packing a gun.

She sits across the aisle from me,

Trying to ignore the things she sees.

A man stands at a corner waiting for our bus,

He is tired, hungry, defeated, just like us.

After days of searching , there’s still no work,

He’s just a fraction away from going berserk.

How can he survive if he’s living on pride?

Will he find a place to live safely outside?

A group of teens climbs aboard, boisterous and loud,

I wonder if one will escape the tenement and return rich and proud.

They threaten the homeless man.

He might have money stashed in a can.

They threaten the woman as she pretends to read,

Telling her they want her to meet their needs.

They laugh and suggest they could have fun,

Not noticing her hand touching her gun.

They turn their attention finally to me.

I was watching and waiting, it had to be.

Survival of the fittest, or the ones with most greed,

Somebody’s angels, or someone’s bad seed.

There is little to distinguish between me and my brother,

Hell will claim one, and heaven will get the other.

July 21, 2017berserk

PUNCTURE


PUNCTURE

 

When I was twelve I had no time for capers,

I had a job delivering newspapers

 by bicycle,

Going to the newspaper office at four a.m.,

Folding one hundred sixty papers,

packing them into a bag,

putting the bag on the back

where it would not sag or drag

and riding across town to my route

where I carefully tossed

or placed the papers

on the porches of their owners.

One mornings I was half asleep

And I forgot about the punctures.

There were two kinds,

One kind of puncture was dog bites,

The other kind was the thorns

Of a plant we called “goat heads”

Because they resembled goats with horns.

Both kinds of punctures hurt

And usually stayed alert

 As I carefully navigated the locations

Where the mean dogs hid.

This morning one dog jumped too quick,

I missed him with my stick and

I tumbled head first into a patch of goat heads.

The dog tried to bite, but he lost all the fight

He had inside,

When he stepped on the goat heads.

He whimpered and cried,

Until I removed the stickers in his paws.

I was distracted and did not see the car,

(it was still too far),

Weaving back and forth.

As it approached I wanted to flee,

It didn’t really want me, did it?

The car hit a pole a few yards away,

This was not going to be a good day.

The car hit the back of my bike,

I flew up in the air, no time to say “yikes!”

And the car stopped at a gas station,

After it knocked over a pump.

All the excitement was not over.

An electric line came dancing across the street.

I wanted to run but I couldn’t move my feet.

Somehow the fire department turned off the gas,

Turned off the power.

I’m thankful I’m still here even at this hour.

Demons were angry and stomped their feet,                                        .

They knew they had me in defeat.

But angels were watching once again,

Final score was demons zero, angels ten.

June 17, 2017

 

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

The Battle Begins


Angel 013

Angel 013 (Photo credit: Juliett-Foxtrott)

Red angel wings were spread before me,

As far as I could see,

They were as red as sacred blood,

In an instant I understood,

What they were preparing for,

As they waited, score by score,

With talons sharpened and eyes of fire,

This hardened group would fight and never tire,

If I asked about the enemy they would grin,

For the enemy they fought took the war within,

From the east a small light glowed,

And as I watched it began to grow,

Angels with wings of pearly white,

Gathered the surrounding wisps of light,

I could feel the resulting vibrations of power,

And guessed the battle would begin this hour,

The chief red angel had a snarl on her lips,

And kept a few weapons at her fingertips,

Today the battle would decide my fate,

I pull my cloak tightly about me, it is getting late.

Christmas by the Forest


A Thick Forest

Image by Jon Person via Flickr

He wasn’t a mean man but he was grumpy at times,

He lived alone and liked to write poetry that rhymed,

His house, next to a forest, had a very pleasant view,

He wasn’t very happy though he had much to do,

He was often forgotten, his children lived far away,

They, too, said they were busy, and they’d visit someday,

His days were empty of meaning, his nights full of screams,

What was he living for, the world had taken his dreams,

A miracle was needed to soften his heart, he couldn’t turn life back,

If he could help someone, his life would be back on track,

 

His heart did not hear the tears or feel the anguished pain,

As a family nearby called out in the cold and chilling rain,

Five children stranded in the night watched as their mother died,

They huddled and quietly prayed, after their tears had dried,

Harsh reality took the stage as they looked at their papa to lead,

But things change rapidly at times, life is so hard to read,

Their father could not help, for this country was not his home,

He had to leave, he was banned, no longer could he roam,  

Five children with no one, determined to reach a goal,

Could they survive a world so cruel and the winter cold,

 

They gathered and prayed once more, nothing else they could do,

No money, no parents, their hope should have been gone too,

The oldest daughter took charge, said they would go out swinging,

They sloshed through the snow, their angelic voices ringing,

Their voices carried through the night and across the snowy wood,

Where a man waited for a miracle, where he could do some good,

The man rose to hear this group and its cheerful sound,

He wondered why they were the only joyful group around,

He heard their songs and invited the five in, to sit before the fire,

They smiled when he told them they sounded like a heavenly choir,

 

Then he asked about their parents, then asked what will they do,

His heart was touched, “Please stay,” he urged, “I have rooms with a view,”

His house had been quiet far too long,

He needed to fill it with happy songs,

When he asked them to stay a miracle occurred for them,

And when they said yes a miracle occurred for him,

Christmas by the forest changed his life within,

Christmas by the forest meant their lives had a chance to begin.