Saturday, July 24, 2010

Time Posts

was and is and will be are
words that tell us just how far
we are from now, and let us know:
where we can and cannot go.

Friday, July 16, 2010

The Tour

Come on, take a trip through hell.
Yes, I've done it, know it well.
See the sights, you'll think it's swell.
It's all great, except the smell

of burning bodies; charcoal eyes,
the constant swarm of spirit flies,
the double-talk of constant lies,
mournful pleas, regretful cries.

Stop and take a closer look.
You won't see this in any book.
For every evil thought you brook,
there's one more jerk to set the hook.


So, your time comes, you start the climb
till Satan tightens up the line.
You jump and flail, but there's no sign
of being saved by Great Divine.

Who's to blame? You took the bait.
Evil doings, you couldn't wait
to score a gain, your greed to sate.
But now that you have seen your fate,
you'd take it back, but it's too late.

Good bye

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Wave Tops Crash

Grey clouds sink
into the sea, I think
they dye the waters, too,
to match their own cold steely hue.

White surf grinds
pebbles into grains quite fine
'Cause without salt the swirling sands
make up a soup that's rather bland

Wave tops crash
whipping creamy foam, they mash
sea creatures into paste
then mix in sand and salt to taste

'Tween split cracks
in timber planks of wood sea shacks
the cold wind sneaks to make a play
at stealing warmth from us today

Sand-drifts storm
driftwood bulkheads. Wind torn
sea grass holding fast
in hollows safe from gusty blasts

Clam shells gasp
for breath, shell hinges rasp
as op'ning to the rising tide,
they fill their gills till satisfied

Solo bird
above the waves; I heard
pounding surf accompany
a cawing seagull symphony