country

Visions

Folder: 
Poetry

I see London,

I see France

And the bridge between.

 

Like an eagle my vision flies

Over the countries

Over the rivers

Over the plains.

 

Truly adventure

Can happen inside

You don't have to leave your house

To project or have visions.

 

I roam far and wide,

I see heaven and the sky

I see the Cosmos

In and Outside

 

My vision travels

Far and wide!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Personal poem.

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Big Ole Barn

The best love we make is to the sound of rain on the old tin roof.

 

Just you and I in that bug ole barn.

 

Layin in your arms, lookin at them stars.

 

Prayin to God to keep the night young.

 

Lookin in his eyes, thinking this could be it.

 

Waking up and going wherever the wind takes us.

 

Down them backroads threw them city lights.

 

Going every which waym tryin to find a better place.

 

And in the morning light we'll be alright, just as long as it's you and I in the big ole barn.

 

@Sarah Faist

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Trinidadian poem

I's ah trinidadian.

And i's ah indian.

Muh school is born air.

And it not that near.

Ah have ah relly stupid family.

And the rel stupid and silly.

Ah don't like muh sister sapphire.

She name right cause she like fire.

And one thing she's ah rel damn lier.

Muh parent's not together.

And ah don't think that better.

Ah doh no what to say again.

So ah going and stop.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

In my country trinidad that's how we talk.

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tags:

Latent Prince

 

 

..............

 

Part I of II

 

 

This is the story of Larry Joe Prince

And the way Arizona stole his innocence.

It is written with hope that there may come a day

When a wise judge will grant him his moment to say

All the things so conveniently left out of court,

Made American “justice” look more like a sport,

With a high-priced attorney that didn’t think clear,

And the false testimony of one with much fear,

And the state prosecute thought “I’ll surely reach fame”,

He said, “Hell, I don’t care who the state wants to blame,

It’s a paycheck to me; I don’t care about truths,

It’s my ego I feed, I’m a low lying sleuth!!”

 

So they all drew their “guns” on that guy Mr. Prince,

Absolutely no shred of secure evidence,

They proceeded to send him to death row to sit,

For the murder of one that he did not commit,

And the biggest and worst sin of all that was done,

Was the way that the people held on to their “guns”,

They embraced all the lies to evade what was clear,

As revenge prevailed justice with each little tear,

And for those in the grave who just watch from above,

With no longer a voice to teach them that real love,

Is not proven by putting the blame on a man,

Just because he is there….cause the courts and you can,

 

See the proof of one’s love speaks out so very clear,

Even after the grave when one’s body’s not here,

You will hear their soul cry, and you’ll then know for sure,

If they’re resting in peace or they’re haunted some more.

 

There are families that hide from life’s reality,

The dead man in this case begs you hear his soul’s plea,

Make amends for the errors you’ve made in the past,

And put down all those stones, and those already cast,

If this dead man could speak he’d have something to say,

Of the circus that ran through the courtroom that day,

And if not for the dead man then do it for you,

Cause we all have to answer to God what is true,

Larry Prince knows he’s clear and he wins either way,

                              Cause he’s INNOCENT judge, the state’s in disarray.                                

So please read all with care on this day we implore,

Please don’t look at this life as a game where you score,

It’s integrity that is of stake in this court,

And it’s not mine or yours it’s this country’s that’s short

Of a quality no longer active today,

If it dies, it’s the lives of our loved one’s…they’ll pay.

Take your time, read it all, and be true to your heart,

And we’ll all pray it’s not too late for a new start.

 

 

Part II of II

 

 

They all loved cocaine but they hid it from Dad,

He just couldn’t believe that his kids could be “bad”,

So his eyes he did close, and they stayed tightly shut,

While his best offspring died with that stuff in his gut,

And they said, “It was murder”, and placed the blame there,

Yes, it’s true ‘bout that bullet and blood in his hair,

And the roots of that crime have been hidden so well,

By the real guilty ones with the lies they did tell,

For those self-righteous ones that just stared and stood by,

And condoned this deceit without batting an eye,

For the cowards that watched as the killers went free,

Be aware this could happen to you or to me,

And your sons or your daughters could one day be led

To a place where they wish they would rather be dead,

So now don’t be afraid to let truths in your ears

When your children are hurting with eyes full of tears,

Don’t you cower or shudder, don’t whine and don’t wince,

And remember the story of Larry Joe Prince.

 

Written in parts, from 2000-2002

Original Copyright 2002 

Registration Number / Date:

                   TXu001112792 / 2002-12-02

 

..................

 

07/21/13 ©

 

*

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The story of how justice can go awry when emotions rule instead of justice ruling.

 

http://www.postpoems.org/authors/nightlight1220/prose/953553

 

...........

Requiem For A Casualty

One rainy day I peered into the window of your soul,

 

The shattered pieces of your life, like a shroud to fill the hole,

 

A roomful of confusion, was the story left behind,

 

A teardrop dons a cheek or two, life's end can be unkind,

 

This solemn stage is deafening as soldiers come to call,

 

The pinned lapels are like trophied shelves adorning a blackened wall,

 

And as I toss the single rose atop the earthen mound,

 

I toss my sun... My moon... My stars...

 

My life, into the ground.

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The Soldier

Wounded

Scarred

Life behind bars

Just for what he stands for

Because he loves his country

And fought for her safety

Just to come back

For them to hate

He risked his life for them

But do they care?

No, they call him a reprobate

Murderer

A weapon

Nothing more than an item

 

He tries to walk away

On what’s left of his legs

Sacrificed for his murderers

Given for them

There goes my hero

Watch him as he falls

See the tears roll from his eyes

As he keeps living

As he keeps fighting

For what is right

As he keeps hoping

That death comes swiftly

A man who fought for his country

To find he wasn’t part of it.

Why I'm Country

People always ask me, 'what makes you country'?

It's growin up on the farm, helping my pa feed the cows, fix the fences, and clean the horse stalls. Its swimming in the cold creek out back, playing around on the land, and riding Cocoa around. It's coming home everyday to family and a home cooked meal. It's running from the geese and looking after the goats.

It's watchin and momma Clydesdale stay strong after a car accident and eventually give birth to her baby. It's watching her baby grow knowin nothin but the momma, the farm, and our family. It's riding CJ up and down the hills, drinking water from a well and having more animals than fingers and toes.

Even after moving from the farm, it's working hard for what you got and never thinking of yourself better than anyone else. It's having a few beers around a bonfire, it's skinning deer and listening to that old Chris LeDoux cd. It's about saying yes ma'am and yes sir. It's about manners.

It's about faith and God, prayer and praise. Even with life is at its worst.

I show it proudly. I wears my cowboy boots and my cowboy hat. I wear my jeans high and my shirt tucked in. I drive my truck with 'Country Boy Can Survive blaring.

Its watching 8 Seconds at least twice a week, it's eating fly chicken fried, spending time with my family and it's that want deep down to ride that bull.

Being country don't have nothing to do with where you're from and what you do for a living. It's about who are and how you live. It don't matter if you grew up in the sticks or in a big city. Everyone has a little country in them, some ignore it but I embrace it.

I don't care if you like it, I don't care if you don't. All I care about is those closest to me in life. My family, my friends, and that special girl I call my own.

That's what makes me country and fact is, I'm damn proud of it.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For those who asked why I'm country.

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Silver 1911

Folder: 
Just For Fun

She sure was a beauty, said she was mine
But her daddy didn’t think so, that wasn’t fine
In the dirt driveway, he drew a line
And pulled out his Silver 1911

He was old school, with a fighter inside
Said that with me she couldn’t take a ride
Said she’d leave over his dead hide
And pulled out his Silver 1911

They’d been hurt before, so I didn’t mind
Said I didn’t plan anything of the kind
If he’d see my true blue, then he would find
A heart like his Silver 1911

The best of the best
The leader of the West
That fought for what was right
The bringer of the law
By a real quick draw
That won every fight
God’s Holy wrath
And if you do the math
There’s a lot more right than wrong
Written in it’s past
There’s nothing quite as fast
As a Silver 1911

Well, that seemed to hit a cord
His stepping away was a sign of the Lord
And I took him with us in my old Ford
With his Silver 1911

Now I know just how he felt
A daughter of my own that’ll make a heart melt
So to inspire the boy’s Holy fear, on the side of my belt
Is my Silver 1911

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Yes I know the 1911 was not used to win the West. When I wrote this I meant the Western Hemisphere, from every battle and war from WWII and on. Otherwise, enjoy! :D

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A Maize of Listening Ears

Folder: 
Love

Young love
An old truck
Cornfield with a picnic lunch
Just the two of us
But with friends close
Get away from a crazy world
Getting to know you better
You call it romantic
I just call it life
‘Cause this is how I want to spend the rest of mine

Lost in a maize of listening ears
Watching to see what we do
Both our families on our side
Praying to see us through
I want to do this right
Screwed up once before
And I don’t want to go one more night
Without you knowing
Who I adore

Now I’m not rich
But I get through
Love’s more precious than gold
So this ring
I give to you
Shows you you’re my whole world

Lost in a maize of listening ears
Watching to see what we do
Both our families on our side
Praying to see us through
I want to do this right
Screwed up once before
And I don’t want to go one more night
Without you knowing
Who I adore

Now I told her
If you want me
You’ll find me near God’s side
He’s my best friend and Father too
Now He’s smiling at my bride
Growing old
Growing up
Never seemed so hard
Lot of broken dreams
Broken pride
But I never gave her up

Lost in a maize of listening ears
Watching to see what we do
Both our families on our side
Praying to see us through
I want to do this right
Screwed up once before
And I don’t want to go one more night
Without you knowing
Who I adore

Who knows
Someday down the road
I hope it looks like this
Two rocking chairs
Crowded with kids
And all of them are ours
We work hard
But it’s worth it
To see them grow up strong
And see their mother smiling at me
Wrap her in my arms

Lost in a maize of listening ears
Watching to see what we do
Both our families on our side
Praying to see us through
I want to do this right
Screwed up once before
And I don’t want to go one more night
Without you knowing
Who I adore
You’re my hero

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