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MY Story ...Refugee No. Million

The years have almost passed my history.
My name is Number Million Refugee.
When others played against my destiny,
Palestine preserved the true identity.

My name is Number Million Refugee.
With blood they often fed and nourished me.
Palestine preserved true identity,
when others swept my Home's dignity.

Lingering Scent

Married a delectable rose
couldn't forsee the woes
her actions would compose

A flirtatious flower
men with kisses shower
her mysterious power

She spread her petals far and wide
his beautiful bride
no longer a source of pride

a lingering scent
he now repents
the passion he spent

His rose had thorns
his feelings scorned
her loss he mourns

Pother; a Pantoum

Now, let us speak of pain my friend
and all its presence once implied;
of how it made my mother bend
the long, sad years before she died.

And all its presence once implied
‘twas more than I could hope to bear.
The long, sad years before she died
all proved the start of scathing wear.

‘Twas more than I could hope to bear,
the rack was ne’ertheless my lot.
All proved the start of scathing wear
when father passed from heart’s fell clot.

Dead Peasants Society

While Americans scurry
two steps behind the credit crunch
the one percent plan

on how to buy the next election
or make dead peasant policy's
pay out

throughout the nation

Most of the wealth isn't enough
they've taken it worldwide
finding cheaper inductees

Patriotism and Capitalism
do not go hand in hand
both have failed

Wake up America

Wake up

Post Turkey Day Blues

Oh, the turkey was sublime
The dressing was extra fine
The yams were oh so yummy
When I stuffed them in my tummy
The potato salad was so great
As was the ham I'd masticate
The deviled eggs that I desired
Left me feeling so inspired
So chicken and dumplings I then ate
Piled them high upon my plate
The fruit salad was really divine
But the lemon pie I can't define
And as I sit here in major strife
I guess it's time to pay the price

DO YOU WANT..................

Do you want to go with me
....to the high school football game
....and afterward a burger joint
....as we play the dating game ?

Do you want to go with me
....down the church's wedding aisle
....then on a modest honeymoon
....where we both could love and smile?

Do you want to go with me
....to our first place (a mobile home)
....set on a country piece of land
....where birds flock and rabbits roam?

IT NEVER DIES

This love that crept in unawares, 
established many hours, days, 
and years of thought
and energy inspired, 
that like a ball once thrown 
rolls on so far, 
encouraged creativity and verve,
gave visions, images and sheer delight,
allowed to go so deep 
its there to stay,
the heart just follows sheepishly,
it sings the old refrain,
it never fades 
like dawn and dusk,
that colours many skies,
it never dies. 

GOING HOME II

GOING HOME II

I can’t go back
It’s been too long.
too many yesterdays
are gone.
there are no more gardens
no more trees to shade
no familiar voices
no warm embraces
no one to see or hold
and who I was then
has died with each of them.
I'm lost and don't belong.

Going Home Antonin Dvorak BYU Choir - YouTube

Blessed Are They Who Toil

The ghost moon of autumn yet hovers in the west
While golden rays of the sun emerge in the east.
Celestial movements bringing in the tide,
Waves cascading upon the sandy beach collide.

Fresh breeze does a good day signify
And sea gulls happily dance in the sky.
A worker kneels and gives his thanks,
For good fortune as the new day embarks.

He is wrapped in the warmth of a new birth
Urged to go forth and toil upon the earth.
His iron blade turning the black sod over,
Then disked smooth into a brown velvet texture.

..............C H U N K .................

wake
candle struggles in its depths
cuddling the wall of wax

turntable spins the disc
the click
like static
an empty line
lays
waiting

fix me striation
like a snapped string
on our worn Gibson

give me your vision
your deep echo thoughts
like a voice from
a wood chamber

ere she rests
beneath this mantle of
morn'

mantle of red
tangled like a nest
features soft
not under duress

and skin the hushed
soft tone of moonlight

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