A Note From Above

Dated: The Beginning Of Time (AD)

To: My Children

Maybe not what you want,
But what you need,
Will you accept the gift this time?
I pray you heed.

Other opportunities,
May seem like something,
That you’d much rather,
But in the end,
If you go with another option,
You’ll wish it was by my hands,
Your story had been penned.

Something or someone,
Is always knocking,
Some should be kept,
The rest told to keep on walking.

It seemed meant to be,
Sewn up so fast,
Until it exploded,
With a powerful blast.

It turned destructive and deadly,
Provided by,
The wrong authority,
Instead of me.

Wake up!
Wake up!
I see every second,
The whole play-by-play,
That’s leading you astray,
As I hover close by,
Waiting on you,
To open your eyes.

It’s right under your nose,
Being handed to you,
On a silver platter,
But it’s not what you had in mind,
So to it you are blind,
Not what you wanted,
So by it you’re daunted.

It’s in your way,
Like a stumbling block,
But only because,
You’re hard-headed like a rock.

Time’s ticking away,
On your mental clock,
You see just one road,
And it’s making your shoulders,
Carry an unnecessary load.

Receive what’s right,
In front of your face,
Stop shoving it away,
Because in the end,
You’re the one who always pays.

And the price every time is hefty,
You sometimes feel guilty,
Or dumb or embarrassed,
I suppose such is the way,
When the area is so gray.

You wish it could be,
More black and white,
And cause much less,
Of an inner fight,
But the war is real,
So just remember,
My saved sinner,
No matter which you choose,
Only one’s the winner.

Each time you lose,
Is like a blessing,
Accidentally refused,
Seek wisdom before,
Making a choice,
If you elect to listen,
I’ve a very loud voice.

Signed With Love,
The Lord God Almighty

Angels Await

**********

Super short,
Oh so fucking beautiful,
At times full of shit,
This accurately describes,
Each of them,
But even now,
I’ve a love for them,
That will never quit.

**********

Beyond the clouds,
These two wait for me,
And right now,
I look up from below,
Wishing that I too could go.

About now they’re walking,
Streets of gold,
Called names like Glory Road,
And Hallelujah Boulevard,
Pretty as any picture,
On a Pacific Island postcard.

I wonder what they do,
Now that trouble,
Isn’t able to be gotten into?
Because they’re Earthly behavior,
I’m sure isn’t tolerated,
By any Angels or the Savior.

I sure hope the boy is over his fear,
And lets the pony near,
Because together,
Is always so much better.

Truth be told,
They may be better off,
Up there as they trod down,
Golden roads,
Time will pass,
But they will stay as they are,
Never growing old.

Most call retirement,
The best years of their lives,
But I don’t return that sentiment,
As the years after being laid,
Into graves,
Is the only time we’re thoroughly released,
From being this world’s slaves.

Of course I wish for them back,
That cannot be helped,
But when it’s making me feel down,
I imagine them there,
Wearing their jeweled crowns,
And gone from their faces,
Are those ever-present frowns,
They seemed too frequently to wear,
When they lived with me here.

**********

I guess it’s a giant place,
With plenty to see and do,
But still I’ll be insulted,
If I find when it’s my time,
That they never looked back down,
Glancing out beyond space,
For a reassuring glimpse of my face.

**********

Godsend

A flood of peace,
Swept through my soul,
It temporarily patched the hole,
And made me feel,
Almost whole.

I was able to sleep,
More than a wink,
Like I hadn’t,
In almost a week.

**********

But let’s back up,
To when thunder struck,
And every imaginable,
Type of hurt,
Made me wish I was under,
Six feet of dirt.

There were hot spots and cold fronts,
But I must be a dunce,
For I held out hope,
That this time I may be taken,
As more than a joke.

The hot spots did not last long,
They were like maybe just the first bar,
And the cold fronts were endured,
As long as the rest of the song went on.

**********

So back now to present time,
I could not think,
There was every negative emotion,
Swirling through my head,
Like a storm out in the ocean.

I tried to calm down,
But as no definitive dreams came,
My mind continued to drown,
Then I remembered a trick,
That can solve any problem,
And the only thing needed,
Is a certain book about two inches thick.

Without a doubt,
It was time for supernatural help,
Answers weren’t coming on their own,
I’d have to conjure them alone.

So out came the giant purple volume,
And I closed my eyes,
To ask about the burden,
Eating me up inside.

I call this my magic eight ball,
And it always answers when I call,
My hands were guided to the exact needed excerpt,
And I was prompted to pay attention most especially,
To the one numbered as twenty.

Oh I don’t know why I was even surprised,
The response was just what I had surmised,
And that night I was able to close my eyes,
And sleep for the first time in ages,
Soundly until the time came to rise.

**********

Now if the patch can hold,
Until the conclusion,
At what’s bound to be,
One hell of a reunion……….

It’s A Mystery To Me

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Butterflies fly?
Or would it be because,
Babies always cry?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
People lie?
Or would it be because,
The right ones say bye-bye?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Planes zip across the sky?
Or would it be because,
Gossiping biddies are always exclaiming ‘oh my’!?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Some bread is made of rye?
Or would it be because,
Some give up before they try?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
There’s no such thing as the good guys?
Or would it be because,
Contentment makes everyone sigh?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
We live again after we die?
Or would it be because,
There’s always one more thing to buy?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Soap is made with lye?
Or would it be because,
Thickness is sometimes measured by ply?

At times I wonder why,
It is maybe because,
Any face or tone can turn wry?
Or would it be because,
Hair looks better with some dye?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Too much time has passed by?
Or would it be because,
A new beginning draws nigh?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Brown is the color of those eyes?
Or would it be because,
That restaurant serves Thai?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
The young lady is shy?
Or would it be because,
People get fat from pie?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Not everyone enjoys a fish fry?
Or would it be because,
Dressed up men wear a tie?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
The desert climate is dry?
Or would it be because,
It’s too rare to see a toned thigh?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
People are reluctant to say hi?
Or would it be because,
The waiter served a bad chai?

At times I wonder why,
Is it maybe because,
Approximately 3.14 is pi?
Or would it be because,
They say a fox is sly?

Something……….I’m Not Sure What……….

A blazing beam,
In this trying time,
Is what I fantasize of finding,
But I guess the fucker is hiding.

It can come in the form,
Of divine intervention,
Or a human,
With decent intentions,
………If either even exist?
I don’t know…….on that I am torn.

Something bright and sunny,
And sweet like honey,
Pleasant like pin money,
Rather than bad like blood money.

Rocks are being thrown,
So far I’m dodging,
And they haven’t broken any bones,
Fingers crossed,
That they never quite hit home.

Hmmm……….
What is happy,
And could make one forget,
That recent hands dealt have been crappy?
Anything that pushes,
Some positivity,
Would be positively welcome,
Something that’s strong,
And shoves this shit,
Down where it belongs.

It can show up by day,
Or by night,
Even give me,
An awful fright,
As long as it makes,
Life flow right.

Luck of the Irish,
Rain down upon me,
As though I’ve captured,
A leprechaun,
Or ran across a rare four-leaf-clover,
While walking across my lawn,
Turn things around,
Please pull me out,
Of this imaginary ocean,
In which I find myself drowned.

Under a spell,
Originating,
From the depths of Hell,
It’ll take something magical to smash it,
Like a unicorn,
Blowing a mighty horn,
Or a centaur,
Dead set on winning a war.

Trying to hit the nail on the head,
By filling me with dread,
Things coming,
From all sides at once,
Hoping I’ll stay bummed,
And never resume,
Happy hums,
But……….fuck that shit!
………. Surely I’ll soon shake off,

These things that suck……….

What In The HELL?

One day,

Out of the blue,

Two tiny marks were noticed,

Upon a thumb,

“Where the fuck,

Did these come from”!?

Was the thought,

Until the mind,

Was practically numb.

Little brownish red dots,

That looked a lot like tiny birthmarks,

Why were they,

Never noticed before?

They couldn’t be recent

But they weren’t remembered,

As being there,

Just a year or two before.

Into the head came a notion,

Was this proof of past lives?

Once someone had said,

The fear of certain fanged brutes,

Was likely due to being bitten,

While alive,

In another lifetime,

And this is why,

The feeling of panic,

While in their presence,

Never subsided,

No matter how much,

Time had elapsed.

In theory,

Fang marks,

Are only made,

By things infected by dark,

But are they really polluted?

Because after all,

They had ancestors once,

On Noah’s Ark.

There was strong suspicion that they might,

Be from a snake bite,

There was,

After all,

The infliction of a phobia,

But was that all paranoia?

Or was that fear founded by an incident,

And therefore legitimate?

Though there are tons of creatures,

Sporting fangs,

Not all result,

In the night terrors,

For instance,

It’s known a house cat,

Would not do that,

But who’s to say,

They weren’t wandering in the jungle,

And met head on,

By a lion?

But oh yes,

That jungle beast’s mouth,

Would be too big to leave these marks,

That little kitty though,

Righto! – that one’s a maybe……………

At one point in the past,

Could there have been a Mer,

Who played in ponds,

And swam in seas?

So many creepy critters,

Occupy these places,

And many are with,

Tiny fanged faces,

Yes this one is actually,

A real possibility……………

Very well,

I’ll admit there is no way here,

To be totally and absolutely sure,

Just the same,

These marks are pointing favorably,

Toward this being right,

It’s so strange they seemed to surface,

Pretty much overnight,

Even so I think it’s clear,

These marks were put,

On a former version of a self,

By the object of their deepest fear.

Precipitation Won’t Kill You

Is there anything worthwhile about the rain?

You ask because there is the fact,

That it can be a fuckin pain,

While rain can bring on dreariness,

To you I must confess,

That from it yes,

There is much to gain.

Up in the White Mountain State,

Me and her would sit and watch it fall,

From the barn,

In a cozy stall,

So much for a ride,

Because lightning just struck,

And then thunder boomed,

But when it was over,

It would cause her yummy grass to bloom.

Memories get made by many,

When snow falls aplenty,

Nothing really can compare,

To a snow day that is issued,

When the rain falls hard,

And then hits one of those,

Cold pockets of air.

Ponds and streams,

Throughout woods and jungles,

Tastes as grand as ice cream,

To those wild and free,

Now tell me,

Without any rainfall,

Just where would they be?

It’s a hot summer day,

You’re craving the beach,

Down by the bay,

And as you’re there de-stressing in the sun,

You think to yourself,

“Wouldn’t it be downright delightful,

If each day was this bright,

I wouldn’t mind a couple years’ worth,

Of days just like today”,

But imagine if you will,

A dry, dry Earth,

Never having any rain,

Meaning no water and no bay,

Now you see how all that sunshine,

Would probably cost you your favorite pastime.

Well now,

That’s been put into perspective,

I hope the rain now gets,

At least a wee bit of fuckin respect.