Goose Droppings

As politicians search for more money

To create magical castles in the sky,

All that they say and all that they do

Are illusions that are sometimes called lies.

In a land far away and a long time ago

A farmer and his family lived a peaceful life.

He got along with his neighbors

And he got along with his wife.

He had a beautiful goose

That laid big eggs of gold.

He tried to keep the goose a secret

But the secret was exposed when someone told.

One day a car stopped at the farmer’s house.

A man in a fancy suit got out and looked around.

He wrote numbers in his computer

Then screamed, “Look, what I found!

You haven’t reported your eggs of gold.”

The farmer wanted to argue but he wasn’t bold.

The farmer tried to explain his oversight,

But the government man was not appeased.

“I’ll make this right if it takes all night!”

When morning came the g-man took the goose.

And the golden eggs, he took those too.

He smiled and said, “You still owe lots of gold,

But with three jobs you might make it through.”

That g-man left brochures on organic gardening,

With instructions on how to use it.

And every autumn the g-man sends buckets of droppings,

Labeled  “COMPOST” or just plain (    ).

The tax people kept the gold

But estimated the earnings and the cost,

For organic droppings are very special,

If none of the nutrients are lost.

The farmer urges everyone to heed his story

And keep records regarding each and every bit.

He says, “Label everything  they have or they’ll be sorry,

Very clearly they should write,“COMPOST” or just plain (    ).

October 12, 2017





Dreams of wars and dreams of hate,

Flow through me at an alarming rate.

Is this the calm before the storm,

That will ultimately seal our fate?

We’ll see! We’ll see!

The eye of the hurricane is passing through,

Hurry, get inside! The winds are returning for me and you!

Those who glorify war and play its game,

Have forgotten that war’s a beast and difficult to tame.

War and hate leave destruction in their wake,

It doesn’t seem to matter how many lives they take.

I don’t believe this is the calm that precedes the storm,

For this storm is smaller is riddled with lies.

But I see a great storm with power greater than the norm.

One that provokes enemies but I anticipate hate built from

Collusion and calculations and attacks from within.

The costs of war are staggering,

But in the past when we were knocked down,

We faced our terrors and got up round after round.

There are no guarantees and this time may be different.

Are we in the calm before the storm?

We’ll see!  We’ll see!

October 10, 2017




Our family had traditions,

Coffee, morning newspaper, crossword puzzles,

Discussions about upcoming plans,

American holidays, political candidates,

The winners and also rans.

The discussions blended together

And nobody cussed,

But one thing was sure, we sought the truth,

We took pride in knowing George Washington

Didn’t lie when he chopped down the cherry tree,

And Lincoln was known as “honest Abe”,

They were leaders we could look up to.

We believed our country attracted the world’s best,

And with hard work and determination

We could rise to the top with all the rest.

Our leaders were thoughtful and honest,

 We believed in a handshake or giving our word,

To lie or to cheat was simply absurd.

We believed in who we were fighting for or voting for,

And we wanted to be known for  loving more.

But somehow our love relationships and respect

For each other has gone out the door.

There are no more honest presidents like George or Abe.

Our words are not true and our relationships worthless to save.

We are not honest and always true,

Ugly Americans, we are called, and other words too.

Where are the immigrants, natives, and protectors of rights?

We hide in the darkness and run from the light.

It’s time to tell the truth.

July 22, 2017






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



Common Threads

Bohus cardigan  "The Woven Fabric"
Image by AnnaKika via Flickr

through our lives were common threads,

They were almost alike but were not the same,

Some strands
we followed that nowhere led,

As we chased
dreams of fortune and fame,


There were truths and lies we often said,

But life
gave each of us a different game,

Life’s fabrics
were woven and pieces shred,

When money
talked and called your name,


I have no regrets
for all that could have been,

I avoided
risks that would have brought me shame,

My love was not
squandered at slightest whim,

Our common threads
were not spun the same,


You flirted
with danger, went out on a limb,

Looked for
easy wealth that was lying around,

Tried to convince
yourself how life was grim,

When things
went awry and no money was found,


You wanted
to stay young, all fit and trim,

While you
waited for your ship to come in,

You hovered
at the edge of life’s rim,

thinking about loss, just expecting to win,


threads woven were not the same,

I discovered
that money couldn’t buy everything,

Your threads
spelled out a different name,

You got your
diamonds and had your fling,


I made choices
and my story became mine alone,

You were
convinced my decisions were rash,

But relationships
were important and I had grown,

I could not
compromise and turned down hard cold cash,


Threads were
woven into a pattern of my own,

You needed
more than I had to remain my friend,

All the love
we had shared and ever known,

Could not
keep us together at the end,


But you were woven into my life,

My heart still
dreamed and called your name,

Your absence
cut through me like a knife,

threads woven were not the same,


I sometimes wondered how many threads,

Needed to be
woven to make you strong,

And how weak
would I be if I continued alone,

Our lives
turned out differently and oh, so wrong,


Life offered
you riches and you sold out,

Money was
more important than us being we,

At death you’ll
leave it all behind, I have no doubt,

As death
wraps us both, you’ll have the same threads as me.




The Son Will Rise

Full sunrise
Image via Wikipedia

I’ve never enjoyed the heat of day, and tried to avoid the light,

It was easier to take what I wanted, in the dead of night,

I slept through the dawning, I hated the bright sunrise,

Night’s cloak of darkness was safer, to use my deceit and lies,

Like the others, my hopes were on a ferocious king,

If the Romans were driven out, prosperity it would bring,

Then the world would notice, and make up for years of loss,

But now I’ve had time to think, while I’m hanging on a cross,

I was curious about the stories I’d heard,

So I followed this man who taught the word,

I joined a group who was eager to hear,

He spoke boldly about God, his father, without any fear,

But there was more to learn, to our surprise,

He performed miracles right before our eyes,

At a wedding in Cana, Jesus was asked to provide more wine,

Normally it took money and lots of time,

I thought that was a strange request,

But he obliged his mother after a slight protest,

I watched the servants filling six waterpots,

And saw the ruler’s expression at what they brought,

Jesus was a man of action when there was a need,

He drove the merchants from the temple when he saw their greed,

The Jews were angry and wanted to know why,

“This is my father’s house,” was his angry reply,

During this time it seemed the world had gone mad,

People were hoping for a leader, someone strong and bad,

Jesus was popular among the people and drew great crowds,

But he talked of peace and heaven, and warned of being proud,

John the Baptist declared that Jesus was the one,

Who was sent by the Father, to die as his son,

I was seeing many miracles, yet I dared not believe,

For the crimes I had committed, great punishment I should receive,

I didn’t always follow Jesus, sometimes I stayed in town,

I could steal the most when Jesus wasn’t around,

Because I usually stole at night, I rarely saw the sun,

It was not until people began to wake, that my work was done,

I didn’t agree with Judas that Jesus should be turned in,

Despite my disbelief he was the Christ, I considered him my friend,

I was careless and got caught, stealing during the day,

Thrown into prison and left waiting, while Jesus was away,

There was news of the arrival of a new-found king,

It had to be Jesus, for I heard the hosannas ring,

He would overcome the Romans, with God at his side,

I wish I could have seen him then, but I was locked inside,

“Don’t worry,” said another thief, who was there with me,

“According to Judas, Jesus will hang for all to see,”

“That can’t be true, he’s done no wrong,” I said in dismay,

“We deserve what we got, we know crime doesn’t pay,”

In my dreams I saw my life, and I didn’t like what I could see,

I would taste the bitter cup of death, hanging on a tree,

I was nailed to a cross, along with the other thief,

 Another cross went up, I could feel the sorrow and grief,

I believe that Jesus was born to bring truth and grace,

Barabbas should have died, but Jesus took his place,

“Jesus, I deserve to die for the things I have done,

Lord, remember me when your kingdom comes,”

Tomorrow is another day, but I won’t see the rising sun,

I expect before the break of day, my life will be done,

Before I became a witness to the light,

I was a common thief who stole in the night,

At that time I didn’t understand the reason why,

An innocent man was condemned to die,

I’ve always known I’d die someday in terrible agony,

But I believe the Son will rise, in spite of you and me.

“Sweaty and Dirty”

A German nurse in 2005.
Image via Wikipedia

Forgiveness is a Positive Virtue

She was trembling as she stood facing me,

Was there something she wanted to see?

Her hands were pressed against her chest,

Then I noticed she was cupping her breasts,

It was difficult for her to hide her fright,

Her small voice quavered ever so slight,

When she asked, “Are my breasts too small?”

She was exposing thoughts, fears, her very all,

She had pulchritude, talent, and intelligence,

Everything I thought was of the essence,

Her eyes searched mine hoping to find,

That I had forgiven her and made up my mind,

If I loved her, she needed desperately to know,

The question she posed was far different though,

I thought back three months to when we met,

The circumstances were very hard to forget,

I had been downsized with an economy shift,

Turned loose in the jobless current to drift,

Overqualified,” they would say to me,

“That’s just the way it’s got to be,”

That was the response I got from several firms,

Saying I had a doctorate opened a can of worms,

I needed work to keep paying my bills,

I finally found work by deemphasizing my skills,

A hospital laundry kept me from going deeper in debt,

And I tried to remain cheerful with no regrets,

Yes, I remember the day we first met,

My shirt was dirty and I was soaked with sweat,

I expected to be alone while I ate lunch,

Usually treated like a pariah by the hospital bunch,

Smokers gravitated to me because I was dirty anyway,

But I sprayed a can of freshener as two smokers puffed away,

“What are you doing?” one howled in dismay,

“You’ve ruined our air and now you’re going to pay!”

I moved to another table to avoid further trouble,

That’s when two nurses arrived bringing trouble double,

The cutest nurse spoke up quickly, she didn’t hesitate,

“That was brave what you did. I think that was just great!”

The other nurse nudged her forward, “Hurry up, we’re late,”

The cute one said, “Would you go to a party?  I need a date.”

“I’m just a laundry worker,” I quietly said,

“Why don’t you ask one of the doctors instead?”

Tears dripped from those bewitching eyes,

At first I didn’t believe she could tell me lies,

“Yes, I’ll be honored to go with you,”

Why she had asked me I had no clue,

But a hospital nurse of stature and style,

Had stayed and talked with me awhile,

There had to be a reason behind her smile,

Was there something about me that she reviled?

Or maybe it was just a set up for a cruel prank,

I couldn’t think of anything positive, I was drawing a blank,

In spite of my misgivings, I knew it was only a date,

If I continued to be positive I would determine my own fate,

I told myself I was just curious, I knew I didn’t really rate,

But I had forgotten about my albatross, my gullible trait,

(to be continued)


Carnival of Souls
Image via Wikipedia


The oldest and strongest emotion is fear,

So I’ll release any phobia and not hold it dear,

I cringe when I think of letting fear run loose,

Stirring up trouble with adrenaline’s juice,

I know love makes the world go round,

While anxiety shuts those feelings down,

Love opens windows so the sun can shine,

Fear brings little deaths that kill the mind,

Hope brings a sparkle to weary eyes,

Fear douses dreams with untold lies,

Caution could keep me from places I could go,

Keeping me from trying what I know,

My sensitive heart has fears as well,

Letting phobias within it dwell,

For fears enter dreams and claim the throne,

Gliding in silently when confidence is gone,

Jealousy and distrust also climb aboard,

Wrecking havoc with love and cutting the cord,

Sweaty palms and a racing heart set the stage,

My fears overcome me, slowing creativity on every page,

Howling and snapping, fear continues to grow,

Until confronted, stared down, and commanded to go,

Apprehension is hesitant on life’s long ride,

And runs when courage stands by my side,

I may risk it all and not complete a task,

But I’ll try my best, that’s all I’ll ask,

With courage running over I’ll free my mind,

And leave fears in the dust, far behind,

My future is unveiled for me to see,

No web of fear to hinder me,

I’ll step forward and let nothing block my way,

Facing the world bravely, day by day.

Telling Lies at Christmas

The Most Far-Sighted Poet Award

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The Merriest Poet Award

Telling Lies at Christmastime

Mark asked, “What’s your name?”                                                         

My son looked at him with a sparkle in his eye,

This was going to be a fun game,

George. If you ask me again,

I’ll tell you the same,”

My son was smiling and having some fun,

I couldn’t see how that would hurt anyone,

But Bill took exception and looked Richard in the eye,

“You’re going to hell for telling a lie,”

I was shocked at Bill’s words for they were so strong,

Did he really believe that teasing was so wrong?

Bill turned to Mark and quickly said,

“I think you’d better head on to bed,

It’s Christmas Eve, did you forget the date?

Santa won’t come if you’re up too late!”

“I’m sorry, dad, Mark whispered (because he truly believed).

Santa was still coming, Mark was so relieved,

Fantasy was one thing, and truth was another,

Bill’s perception of lies was between one and the other,

Despite Bill’s protests I left in a huff,

Friend or no friend, I’d heard enough,

On the way home I explained to my son,

“Our words should not be used to hurt someone,

Respecting others is one of our goals,

I don’t care if you believe in the North Pole,

A Christmas Fairy with a magic wand,

The Magic Kingdom or deer that can fly,

Is that all in fun or just telling lies,

Allowing others to dream and have some fun,

Why should we want to hurt anyone?

Santa is a fun story to tell to the young,

To see their eyes light up when stockings are hung,

When you were teasing I didn’t think there was harm,

Especially for Bill to shout an alarm,

I’ll be expecting Bill to apologize,

Unless he can prove that reindeer fly,

Otherwise he was the one telling a lie.”

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