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.





Hezer did not listen to their lies.  Everything they said seemed to be poisoned arrows aimed directly at him. Why did they continue to speak their malicious words? Why were they lying? What had he done to deserve this?

                More and more people were beginning to hate him.  He could feel the hatred, see their eyes grow cold, and know they were talking about him behind his back. “Don’t talk to him. He’s not someone we want to associate with.” “Did you hear what he wants to do now?” “People are disappearing.  He’s got to be stopped before it gets worse.”

 The lies were growing, stretching from small sores into festering, gaping wounds that he could not stop.  The more the lies were told, the more the lies were believed. The lies became the truth, comprehended and interpreted to be facts.   Facts were created out of imagined truths and soon there was no distinction between fact and fiction.

His skin was brown and soft, different from theirs.  He was one of the newly created liars, his DNA altered by scientists eager to produce a race of people who could survive under the extreme conditions of a nuclear war.

 At first scientists were proud to claim they had made improvements to mankind. But it was only a matter of time before things began to change.

 The media began with grandiose announcements informing the general public that scientists were gods capable of building a new future.   With the cooperation of everyone the new people could be blended into everyday life with no harmful results. The new people were reputed to be extraordinary workers, requiring less sleep and less rest. In addition, they were very friendly. That brought up the possibility of less hate between nations and less wars.  On paper and in controlled situations everything seemed perfect.  Everybody was thrilled to see changes being made.

As the years passed and war loomed over mankind without actually happening, the differences between the liars and normal humans became festering sores.  All the things humans wanted to do, the new people insisted they could do better.  The liars were reputed to jump higher, run faster, and have better sex.

A lie gets better in the telling, while the truth is always the same.  Stories became ludicrous as the stories stretched and grew.  The liars changed the truth in small increments, made the lies deceive humans who were ready to believe.  Scientists rushed to tell the truth and make claims based on fact, but it was too late.  The lies were no longer lies.  They had been told too often with no opposition and now all the people believed them.

Because the liars had few differences, the others, (the common humans) were concerned the liars would begin taking over. The others struck first, quietly replacing the liars in their jobs. Humans retook  power positions. This time the others were careful to keep the appearance of being fair with no discrimination.  Laws were enacted to increase the number of lies. Lawyers, politicians, and sales personnel were expected to lie consistently.  Their habits were already well established.

The truth is plain, although it has been known to be naked, harsh, or ugly.  Lies come in many colors, and can be very pretty or very ugly.  The liars came in many colors, which made them very special and easily seen.  They were often targets and many had been attacked and killed by frustrated others. Although liars liked being noticed and admired, they were opposed to being killed. The others, or humans as they liked to be called, deviated from the plain truth, and many others would testify in court that liars did not have as many witnesses as others did.  Therefore the liars must be lying. Others ignored the fact that “it only takes one to tell the truth. It takes many to keep a lie.”

Wars did not stop because the liars were created. Wars were often started because of miscommunication between political groups. Liars became the scapegoats in many countries and were forced to defend the truth, especially when others covered up the truth or divided it into small portions.  Liars continued to ask for the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

The world became divided into four distinct levels.  But that was after the world lost much of its wisdom and hope. It was a time of lies and secrets, a time to restore life and love, and a time when all things beautiful became a part of truth. But that’s another story that deserves to be embellished and expanded, stretched and interpreted, loved and hated, and turned into choices which began at the very beginning of time.


Others became the highest group. Liars were the middle group. Many were in the next level.

The lowest group were the poets, singers, philosophers, and others who told the truth.  

June 4, 2017




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.
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.
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.

May 20, 2017

“Please Wait!” (Predicaments 5 & 6)

Predicament  (5/6)

5)  A call from Nashville was on Mindy’s machine,

This was her chance to fulfill her dream,

If she wanted to be a country music queen,

She wanted to tell him one more time,

That she really and truly loved him,

This was her chance while in her prime,

He had laughed off her attempts to be on the air,

“You should just stay home,

You don’t need to be there,”

This was her big break for riches and fame,

If he loved her he could let her go,

Later she would marry and take his last name,

Her plane was leaving at half past four,

Could she reach him in time,

Should she go or stay, she tried once more,

Her song might be a major hit,

Would he be proud of her,

Or just tired of it,

A voice on the line told her what she needed to know,

“Please wait, he’s with a friend, you’re the next one in line,”

Always left to wait, she chose this time to go.


Predicament (6/6)

6)  There were always bullies,

Who taunted, laughed, and pushed him around,

Joel was tired of them ganging up,

And threatening to knock him to the ground,

He would show them this time,

That they were very wrong,

They were weak if they met strength,

If he brought a gun he would be strong,

Maybe he could show them once,

And they would leave him alone,

Somebody had to stand up and face them,

He would be a wall of stone,

He wanted to talk to someone who understood,

Who knew just what he was going through,

He tried to call his older brother,

He always knew what to do,

It happened that the voice he heard,

Was not the one he wanted on this try,

Confused and frustrated by a voice that said,

“I’m sorry, that mailbox is full, goodbye,”

He stood there a moment staring at the phone,

There was no reason to hesitate,

The bullies should get their due,

It was time they met their fate,

No one cared what he was going through,

He was tired of smiling when bullies put him down,

Tired of worrying about them in the dark or sun,

Tired of waiting until they made him run,

Tired of everything, so he brought the gun.


Predicaments make us decide between a good or bad choice,

We choose the result if we listen to our inner voice,

Who do we have to help us think things through,

What wisdom would you share if someone asked you?



Why I’m Telling You Goodbye

After Tonight
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Your eyes
are focused on me,

I think
you’re waiting for me to say,

“I missed
you tonight,”

But you went
out when I asked you to stay,

Telling me I
would be there any old day,


My heart is
ready and eager to give in,

But my world
is already way out of whack,

I won’t cede
to your crazy whim,

Neither will
I argue and go off track,

I think my
pride will hold me back,


You made a
choice to seek him out,

Yes, I
missed you tonight,

But you
won’t hear my voice give doubt,

I’m not sure
if it’s wrong or right,

I’d much
rather be holding you tight,


But you
chose him and not me,

Oh, how I
wanted you tonight,

Yet I can
see how it’s got to be,

My heart is
breaking but I won’t fight,

I’ve got to
be somewhere out of your sight,


I’m not
willing to let you watch me cry,

For the last
time you left me high and dry,

Oh, how I
needed you tonight,

But a man
shouldn’t break down and cry,

That’s why
I’m telling you goodbye.”




Accidentally on Purpose (Part 4)

Pupils writing on the blackboard in a village ...
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Accidentally on Purpose
(Part 4) (conclusion)

Choice #11

Never having

Life was
really tough,

But at twelve I was ready to see,

What the
world had in store for me,

With the art
of sales I came to grips,

Because newspaper
subscriptions won trips,

commissions rewarded my work,

I didn’t
need much for my perks,

Then on to
bigger, better things,

Selling of
tractors, diamond rings,

I sold items
the customer didn’t really need,

I was caught
in a whirlwind of my own greed,

The three I’s,
Income, Independence, Impact,

something happen, a salesman’s facts,

I sold dreams
well because I was bold,

But I felt
in danger of losing my soul,

So I sold
out, didn’t hesitate,

(Of course
later I sold real estate),

Choice #12

Sculpted and
manicured, bushes and lawns,

As a teen I used my brains and my brawn,

Met with
clients and nursery personnel,

They could
trust me, things were going well,

Lined up my
customers for weekend spots,

A very rigid
schedule, right on the dot,

My business
was complicated and vying with sports,

I was
earning a reputation as a businessman of sorts,

There were
several men working for me,

Until off to
college I went, the world to see,

I’ve often wondered
what might have been,

But I’d make
the same choices all over again,

I left
preparing the grounds for preparing my mind,

But I enjoyed
working outdoors, I couldn’t leave it behind,

Choice #13

A sting
operation was in store for me,

Little did I
know I would be handling bees,

When I helped
a beekeeper they got under my skin,

What a
precarious occupation I soon found myself in,

It was
outdoor work which I enjoyed,

surrounded me and I was self-employed,

More than a
hobby, beekeeping was still part-time,

But I made
more income than teaching full-time.

I rented out
bees for pollination every spring,

Then queens
and package bees became my thing,

Honey was
the least profitable part on my list,

My three
phase business was angel kissed,

The bee
business survived flood and drought,

It was
humming along until divorce snuffed it out,

But then I
had time with my children to play,

I could
leave queens and things for another day,

Choice #14

There were
careers I said no because I had doubts,

I could have
made money, so what was that about?

My career
selection became a matter of the heart,

Becoming a
teacher was the best place to start,

students to live life abundantly became my fate,

I didn’t
need fame but I wanted my students to be great,

I won’t know
if they were successful in living their lives,

They’d be
too occupied adjusting their inner drives,

Someday when
our lives merge on some busy street,

What will
they tell me when we chance to meet?

I hope they smile
and point at me with pride,

And say, “Your
class was great, I enjoyed the ride,”

From lower
grades to middle, on through high school,

They knew if
they tried, failure was against my rule,

And those
who pushed for the higher grades,

Could pick
and choose college or trades,

For careers
were not mine alone to choose,

In this game
students could win or lose,

After many
long years I gave up the daily grind,

I didn’t
want to be searching for my long lost mind,

Career Choice

Writing is
something I would do in shade or sun,

It was
therapeutic, calming, my idea of fun,

I was
painting a picture, only with words,

My stories
would wander about like tipsy birds,

I wrote news
articles, short stories, even two books,

Not much
would sell, editors wouldn’t look,

But words
kept oozing out my pores,

And I kept writing
poems by the scores,

Life was
crazy as I was dragged through life’s dirt,

I tried to
keep busy and laugh when I hurt,

parent and lonely, occupations galore,

I decided to
write about life and forget keeping score,

I have a website
shopping mall along with my posts,

I get to
write poems to draw visitors and I am the host,

books?  I hope someday to publish a few,

My writing
is my life that changed as it grew,

Poetry and
stories are waiting to be told,

I’ve got to
release them, I’ve got to be bold,

It’s my
final frontier that I’ll have to face,

There are so
many stories to write I’ll have to race,

For a writer
with stories that he just has to tell,

Will drive
him insane, as you know quite well.

I Became a Writer Accidentally on Purpose

Anglican choir music - a guest choir practices...
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When I was ready to make choices concerning my
career path I was surprised to find that some choices were chosen for me, based
not on what I could do, but for what I couldn’t do.

When it was
time to make a career choice,

I had to
decide who I wanted to be,

For each
occupation has its own voice,

And I wanted
the spotlight shining on me,

Choice #1

I loved
languages and I took great pride,

German, and Latin were on my list,

If I said I
was diligent in my studies, then I lied,

But I
enjoyed language structures, and I insist,

That some of
the sounds tangled my tongue,

Until the
day I ventured into the language lab,

When I heard
the teacher describing to everyone,

(My recorded
voice was booming and I felt his stab),

He remarked,
“He’s terrible with his pronunciations,”

I had other career
choices, this one wouldn’t be missed,

So cross off
language translator from my list,

Choice #2

I often woke
up excited about the new day,

Songs would
be bursting from my lips,

Carpe diem!
It didn’t matter work or play,

The whole
world was at my fingertips,

singing would be a great career too,

But that thought
was soon nipped in the bud,

When my
career in singing all fell through,

and disgraced, my name was mud,

In mid-song the
choir director brought us to a halt,

She loudly announced,
“Someone’s off key,”

“We can’t
sing this cantata because of someone’s fault,

I wasn’t
worried because I knew it wasn’t me,

Then she
said, “That voice is on this side,”

She put us
in groups to narrow it down,

Finally she
was next to me, and I couldn’t hide,

She said, “I’ve
finally located that awful sound,”

I could
still sing for part of my everyday fun,

But I knew
my singing career was totally done,

Career Choice

Like many
high school boys I was ready to perform,

I wanted riches
and fame, my name up in lights,

I did very
well in sports, I was ahead of the norm,

I knew what
was expected, I’d even wear tights,

My teams
weren’t exceptional, although we did well,

championship or two, the stats weren’t great,

If I would
go to the next level, only time would tell,

But I found
out the results of my professional fate,

“Son, there
are a few factors holding you back,

“You need to
be bigger, stronger, faster, just for a start,

And if you
had a lot more talent the money we’d stack,”

So, no pro
sports for me, just break my heart,

number three was out of my league,

I was tired
of losing but I wasn’t fatigued,

Choices (To be continued)

New Year’s Resolutions (Part One)

Anti-abortion demonstration "Each life ma...
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This year I want to grow up and act my age,

You’d think I had accomplished that at this stage,

It required responsibility to make the right choices,

But I listened instead to my own inner voices,

I wanted to get older but I’ve changed my mind,

All the things I wanted I’ve already left behind,

Have a family, have a job, be productive for awhile,

Been there, done that, I’ve traveled those roads in style,

Perhaps this is the year I finally will get a new start,

Lessons at Hard Knocks School didn’t make me smart,

I know, I’ll loosen up, and try not to be so tense,

Before, I tried too much, too soon; I had little common sense,

My money will grow by leaps and bounds if I put some away,

But it’ll have to wait for tomorrow, for there’s a sale today,

Be generous to a fault this year, give to those in need,

But without discipline to pay my debts, little can I heed,

Work hard and do my best, a goal for the coming year,

Instead I think it’s time to reflect, and face unknown fears,

I want to be kind and passionate, loving life without regard,

Easier said than done, my friends, life is pushing hard,

Live life with gusto, I don’t want to be tied to fear,

I’ll try to make every second count, just to survive this year.

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