Gray is a Color, Too

Heavenly Father,

On this blustery, rainy, winter morning

Remind us that gray is a color, too

Of  dawn

Squirrels

Clouds that bring needed rain

The breasts of doves

The fur of kittens

Rail fences along country roads

Smoke from chimneys

A favorite coat

Remind us that gray is the color, too

Of wisdom

Reflection

Life’s mysteries        

Difficult choices

Father of us all, help us to remember that gray is a color, too

As we face our individual winters of the soul

Times when the warming sunshine of your love

Doesn’t penetrate our clouds.        

ah

Broken Pieces

In my hands I hold my heart broken and shattered

I try to put it back together from the pieces I’ve gathered

But some of the pieces are lost, broken, of stole

I’m questioning if my heart can ever again be whole

Then you came into my life and found the pieces that seemed to hide

Revealing pieces I thought I never again could find

Helping me put it back together I hope that you can see

How broken and fragile my heart can really be

So if you’ll hold my hand and stay by my side while it heals

Maybe we can find out how true love really feels

Summer

Holiday Jear

by Michael Long

How I hate the holidays
let me count the ways:
first, the stupid christmas tunes
in my ears like donkey brays!

Commercialism, traffic jams
dispensing fights galore,
me thinks your Christmas spirit
has gone out the fucking door!

Take pity on the lonely,
the single, and the poor,
and then there are the homeless
who don't even have a floor.

Sleeping in the bushes

and shivering in the night
victims of disasters,
who cares about their plight?

There are good people in the world
they're just too few and far between,
but each year gets progressively worse
and this is the worst I’ve seen!

I too am far from guiltless;
this also is a cinch.
Is it any wonder
why I’m a goddamned grinch?

Kindness

by Michael Dean Long

You've all heard the tale of the eighty-one whacks

Made by Lizzy Borden’s oh so merciful axe.

I can well attest that she was too kind

Or maybe just thankful her parents weren't mine.

In scenes too horrific for Silver Screen or TV

I muse what would transpire if she had been me.

With thousands of pieces strewn on the floor

I'd still have the venom urging me on to do more!

With malevolent laughter they've not heard before

I'd strip myself naked and bathe in their gore

Lucky they are, not to have lifted the lid

Of that Pandorean Box and I left when I did.

Like Shakespearean actors upon life's stage

Their lives would have ended at the turning of the page.

The unfathomable pain, the incalculable rage

Earned these monsters their miserable wage.

All of this and sadistic humor to boot,

For kindness was never my strongest of suits!   

Humptys' Plight

by Michael Dean Long

Humpty Dumpty had a big brother

Two younger sisters and a very wicked mother,

With all their abuse, their hatred and gall

'Twas his family who caused poor Humpty’s great fall.

Long did he fall, for ‘twas deep the Abyss

And no one he knew gave his plummet a piss.

All the world’s shrinks, and all the king’s men

Tossed him between them again and again!!!

The War on Terror is an Error

          If I were a terrorist

                    I wouldn’t fool ‘round

          With improvised bombs

                   Out on the ground

          I’d drop them from planes

                   Just like the pros

          And if there’s a crowd

                   I’d send in the drones

          If I were a terrorist

                   I’d read all the mail

          I’d hear all the phone calls

                   So I won’t fail

          To find all the bad guys

                   And make sure they pay

          For having the nerve

                   To ruin my day

          If I were a terrorist

I’d kill all the Jews

          The Moslems and Christians

                   Maybe the Druze

Pagans and Skeptics

                   Will fall in the dust

          The voice of my God

                   Tells me I must

          If I were a terrorist

                   I’d shoot from the hip

          I’d do it in style

                   Make killing look slick

          I’d ban all the books

                   That say murder is sin

          With teachings like that

                   I’d never fit in

          I am not a terrorist

                   And I hope you agree

          That violence is vicious

                   Not for the Free

          Killing is killing

                   No matter the cause

          It can’t be excused

                   It won’t change the Laws

Written with apologies to Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the capital, son
That would stand your hair on end.
Our Republican reps cash their booster’s checks
Then decide which laws to bend.

Those folks on the hill with hands in the till
Never want their Fox viewers to see
That their public lives are a pack of lies
As revealed on Maddow TV.

COMMANDMENT

Thou shall not explain

Roses

Poetry

or

Rain

Please Not Today

birds were singing couples holding hands

children were laughing in a playground of sand

mothers were watching them talking to each other

it was a day when everyone is a sister or brother

proud trees were green flowers watched sunny skis

there were bumble bees and yellow and orange butterflies

we all were having a wonderful time

when we heard a voice that caught us by surprise

it was not a voice from paradise

it whispered i am the prince of sin

i want you to kill the child within

suddenly everyone vanished away

i said to myself please not today

i heard something moving didn’t want to guess

squirrels don't slither through the springtime grass

i woke up i heard someone at my door

i was half awake as I crossed the floor

that voice pursued me cold as ice

kill that child even if he's nice

god in heaven i don’t want to despair

god in heaven help me conquer my fear

i opened the door there was no one there

Alex

MAGIC

          It’s in the intervals; the spaces reality doesn’t quite cover.

          It’s in the spirit; the eye that sees and the soul that hears.

          It’s in the being; instants of energy unite, forge life.

          It’s the feeling of truth after a deluge of lies.

          It’s the moment, the now; Awareness.

          It’s the power to rise from bed; the strength to not open a bottle; the love to share a bite of food.

          It’s the knowledge: that you are not alone

                                                  you are not the enemy

                                                  you are not the problem

          You are simply you, nothing, more or less.

          The enemy is ignorance.

          The problem is living by it.

          Magic sees matter, envisions the particles and energies within and recognizes the matrix of unity; “Reality”.

          Magic holds us together in a family; it welds the Omniverse.

Dedicated to Creemcheeze

Ben

GARBAGE SALE

Why do we fill our heads
with such useless information?
A question oft I ask myself
much to my consternation.

Life would doubtlessly go on,
probably even finer.
And what does all this have to do
with the price of tea in China?

Why nothing, I assure you,
it’s just to make you think.
Some of the crap that fills my head
belongs in the toilet, not the sink!

So if your dreams are nightmares
and peace you cannot find,
Hold a mental garage sale
for the garbage in your mind.

Michael

i’m luckier than jesus

i’m luckier than jesus

i’m not god's misbegotten son

i wasn’t sent here on a mission

i didn't come to ransom anyone

i wasn't born in a stinking manger

I wasn’t nine months in a womb

though i’ve been hurt and slandered

i’ve never been a dead man in a tomb

i’m luckier than jesus

and his twelve apostles too

they tried to maim me in a circus

and made me fight bulls in peru

i never rode a donkey like a king

that never knew his life was lost

before the crowds turned into fiends

i wasn’t broken on a cross

i’m luckier than jesus

my words are not a scandal

i never healed the deaf and blind

i don’t wear bloody sandals

sexually and physically abused

i could always run and hide

i never had to live the truth

unlike him i always lied

i’m luckier than jesus

and king and ghandi too

he turned water into wine at canaan

i just entertain the well-to-do

so i’m luckier than jesus

i’m not god's misbegotten son

i wasn’t sent here on a mission

i didn't come to ransom anyone

alex

A BLESSING

I wish for you...

Comfort on difficult days,

Rainbows to follow the clouds,

Laughter to kiss your lips,

Sunsets to warm your heart

Gentle hugs when spirits sag,

Friendships to brighten your being,

Beauty for your eyes to see,

Confidence when you doubt,

Faith so that you can believe,

Courage to know yourself,

Patience to accept the truth,

And love to complete your life.

God Bless you!

Your Identity Lies

Your identity lies
Within your deeds
The life you live
As you sew your seeds.
Who you are
Inside and out
Whether you're silent
Or scream and shout
A living picture
For all to see
The things we do
Our identity.

Michael

A Song for Kristen and Christine

There's an angel in heaven.
There’s an angel right here.
They’re both on a mission
to end childish fears.

So sing with us Mary.
Christ’s love is a gem.
He’s granted permission
to travel with them.

They’re both sweet and gentle.
They’re both oh so fair.
These two lovely angels
are a wonderful pair.

Sing with us Mary.
The memories remain.
When we sing to each other,
Love conquers the pain.

One’s name is Kristen;
the other Christine.
Both taught me giving’s
a heavenly thing.

So sing with us Mary.
Christ’s love is a gem.
He’s granted permission
to travel with them.

Sing with us Mary.
The memories remain.
When we sing to each other,
Love conquers the pain.
       
Alex

A Valentine’s Day Promise

It’s time to end poetic words
that can’t convey completely
the way I feel, Dear Valentine,
I must confess discreetly.

Parsing of poetic rhyme
Is something I find daunting
when I must try to find the time
To put in words my longing.

Just promise that you’ll be around
No matter what the weather,
And I’ll promise to be with you
Forever and forever.

I Feel the Music

I feel the music. My genius is free!

I’ve got talent baby, don’t you agree?

It must be an angel compassionately kind

who’s decided to grant me this wonderful time.

I’m not taking drugs now except for caffeine,

and that’s quite enough to write lyrics and sing.

If you ever had my best interest in mind

just cool it, I’m having a wonderful time.

The road to freedom becomes pretty steep;

some people survive, others die in their sleep.

Just go to your dresser, pull out my file.

Consign it to Hell; I’ve crawled my last mile.

I’d always hoped we’d part with a smile,

but you and I baby cannot reconcile.

You clouded my vision; you worried me blind.

That’s no prescription for having good times.

alex

It's Time To Disappear

You’ve met the Samaritan Woman
You’ve met the King of Thieves
You went to the Place of the Skull
looking for relief
You gave up power and fortune
for a taste of decency
but you’ve lost the final battle
to the monsters across the sea

You came this far
in your anguish to get home
You had the courage
to strip life to the bone

You knew the possibility
that ghosts would haunt your sleep
You are now a naked stranger
in a city where life is cheap

Make the killers forget you
it's time to disappear
before you wind up in the morgue
a name tag stapled to your rear

Alex
Beaumont Texas
12/16/98

Anonymous Is Synonymous Hieronymus

We are the nameless or named nobodies
the ashamed homeless
the same, yet anonymous
if anonymous is synonymous
then nameless may be shameless
by grace we save face

Thank you Hieronymus
your cosmogram is our telegram
Bosch or botched
wipeout blotches
oil and water may mix, Leonardo
but they don't last long
they say “these colors don't run”
they may not run but they fade
white remains
a simple palette
mixed up like fruit salad
purity preserves
soft, not severe
colors slide and mix

Our flag of nationalism
is a simple syllogism
a fugitive is made, or getting faded
the burdened and nameless, just like me
no slaps on the wrist please
three strikes, makes faith seem made
but we're steady and stand
Savior at our back

A different flag flies true
nothing new, always too few
who read, or see the need of the needy
they who are swollen and greedy
they may see the light

It's not dark for me at night
so long terrors, T’s the season
and I have my reasons
I found Jesus once again
he was behind the couch all along
with the lint and a crumpled old song

Kathleen Kelley
November 6, 2012