Compassion

This Sight

You feel like your heart has been torn in two

And you want to tell everyone to shoo



Weather with him two weeks or two years

I still cannot stop all these tears



As easy as it came

It went away



You liked him since that first talk

Now all you can do is gather his pictures and gawk



You wonder how it could end like this

Whose fault was it hers or his?



The fault was neither

So you can't blame either



I will never forget him crying on my sholder

When he told me he loves me so much, and never again be able to see me



I held him so tight

While inside I knew this would be the last time I would see  this sight

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Rob no matter what I will always love you

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A Heart Cries

I am an Afgan woman.  I live a world away.

In a war torn land, of burning sand, I speak to you today.

Please take the time to listen.  Please do not turn away.

I am a woman so much like you, and I have some things to say.





Far beneath this Borca, that I am forced to wear,

I weep alone in uncertainty, lonliness, and despair.

I am tired, and I am hungry, with my baby by my side.

We have walked for days to get here, but - there is still no place to hide!



Today, I lost my husband, tomorrow perhaps my son.

He tells us it is in the name of God, dear Lord, what has he done?

I am frightend for my baby.

I am the same as you.

I ask all of the same questions and wonder what to do.



You live in fear of chemicals, and hazzards of his war.

I watch for planes to drop the food, I fear will come no more.

I sit in desperation at this border made of sand, and ask how this can be done in the name of God, when war is caused by man.



The hand of the terorists now have touched you,

as for years now,they have touched me.

I am sorry for your tears that flow, your loss of family.



Remember please this woman, here sitting in the sand.

Please know that I will pray for you, from this far off land.

I am not your enemy, you are not my foe.  We are the hearts of humanity, One God has made it so.



I now must say good-bye to you, there is shooting from the caves.

I just wanted you to understand, my heart cries with yours today.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

After September 11th and all of the tears we shed for the families of lost loved ones, I began to really see the pictures of the Afgan families trying to escape from a country ruled by mad men.  I began to wonder what it would be like to be a woman in that country.  Someone who only wanted to live safely with their family and had no hand in the taking of inocent lives.  I wondered what it would be like to know that you were hated by millions for something you had no hand in.  Thus - A Heart Cries.

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PAIN.

Her eyes looked out of the screen at me

And they begged me answer, "why?'

"Why do you live in such wealth, and free,

While I slowly starve and die?"

A heart full of pain burned from those eyes,

Old mind in a face so young,

Reflecting cares of a dozen lives

In a life but scarce begun.



From my soft couch in my well-stocked house

She reached to me from my screen.

Like a burning flame I cannot douse

I'm haunted by what I've seen.

The memory of those questioning eyes

Like a brand burns in my brain.

Feeling her suffering I realise

That I have never known pain.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written after seeing a young girl from a war-torn,starving country in an ad for foreign aid.She really got to me.Her eyes held only bewilderment and hopelessness.She was so very young.

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Cana - the Wedding Feast









A glorious day it was, and merrily

Resounded flutes and pipes and tambourines,

At Canaan in spring-time Galilee -

With flowered meadows and fresh sprightly greens,



The Galilean hills sloped round about,

And  merry guests clapped callous work-worn hands,

A village wedding feast,- a happy crowd

Delighted in the banquet and the dance.



Jesus Himself was there, and several

Of his disciples’ gallivanting band;

His mother too,- and in the well-stocked hall

Lent  counsel and experienced a hand.



The wedding party kicked into high gear-

A cantor praised in song King Solomon,-

But disconcerted stewards in the rear

Began to whisper: "Lo! - the wine is gone”.



A banquet is so cheerless without wine,

Woe! if the golden precious draught gives out,

And generous hosts’ repute is on the line

When jars are empty and dried up the spout.



The mother,- watching wineskins, jars and cask-

Saw the embarrassed stewards at their post-

Remembering the “Seek ye knock and ask”,

Got up to plead for the unhappy host.



Faith spurred her loving heart- she turned to Him-

To Him, her son, the mother did incline;

Who can fill up all vessels to the brim,

And whispered softly: “Son! - they have no wine!”







His time had not yet come, but Mary she

Unwittingly precipitated it,

Out of her motherly great sympathy

With people in embarassment and need.



At first it seemed, denied was the request,

Unheeded passed the mother’s whispered plea,

But then at length He slowly  rose and blessed

The water in the jars - and all could see-

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My love 6-11-97

Folder: 
1999 and before

My love is like the ocean, so big and deep

You linger in my mind

Morning, noon, night, and in my sleep

My love is like candy, so sweet and pure

Our love is like my mind

Sometimes wrong, sometimes not so sure

Forevermore.


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Solitary Truth Of Heart

Oh faithful solitary truth of heart

your distant echo fills my ears.

Within the upright search there are

grand epochs of relief you share,

and like the forecast winds of March

your stirring stalwarts calm my fears.



Engage oh solitary truth of heart

bear Autumn's golden gown with pride

and brave the offing from afar

with placid grace and ageless time.

Oh foursquare soldier truth of heart

your steadfast post secures my mind.

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Some Are

It’s warm and it’s sunny,

    Though some think it not funny,

That even, in the shade,

    The heat does not abate.

And summer can be quite crummy.



With the sweat on the brow,

     Dripping onto the ground,

And the means to perspire,

     In the heavenly fire,

We hope for a passing cloud.



A thorough drenching,

    Releases clammy hands a’ clenching,

As the sky above,

    Drops a liquid mantle like love,

       As parched lips and soil receive a quenching.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

I love a sunburnt country.

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I Want

I want to comfort you

When you start to cry

I want to hold you close

And wipe every tear from your eye



I want to be there

When everyone else has turned away

I want to be the only one

Able to turn your night into day



I want to take back

Everything I've done wrong

I just want to be there

And hold you all night long



I want to be with you

And watch you soar

I want to help you up

When you can't fly anymore

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"Compassionate Libido"

by Jeph Johnson

 

Her vision fashions rainbows
I have yet to dream,
but when I close my eyes
a darker side's revealed.

Her description (even though
it's best she's never seen
in most of what I write)
provides graceful ordeals.

A "compassionate libido."
(she knows what I mean
and all the truth's I've lied)
tears I've cried she feels.

My wisdom's inapropos
to her seasoning.
I want this poem to epitomize
(besides her face) ideals,

but this isn't how it goes
building self-esteem.
She sent me home to rationalize,
deciding just how she'll

condition and control,
after all my themes
convert the life I fantasize
into a dream that's real

Author's Notes/Comments: 

for Lacey, circa 2001 

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