Magazine Posts

Many years later,
I returned home,
and went to the basement,
where I found the door.

I knocked on the door,
it opened wide,
and there was my
old friend, Clyde.

He looked the
same to me,
a proud member,
of the Minihane.

Minihane, a small Hawaiian,
reported be from another
world, coming to Earth,
and part of Hawaiian Culture
and now of Hawaiian Legend.

Sometimes, historical events,
become a hysterical "bent",
when emotions, seize the day
and citizens, want to vent.

Talk to me about the agression,
you see in people's eyes,
just before they succumb,
and innocents dies.

What kind of world, do we live in,
when among the hues and cries,
and one side is in chaos,
while the other side dies.

She stood in front of me,
Sans clothing, just a stare.
A beautiful woman,
with long black hair.

My throat was dry,
for I was aware,
I couldn't speak about the woman,
with the long, black hair.

Have we become,
home to The Great Unwashed?
A society of lies and madness,
no matter what the cost.

Do enjoy your life,
which you have today
or are their times when,
you want to run away.

Should I retreat
and simply run away,
for there is nothing special,
to cause me to stay.

Sometimes, we are invited,
but we fail to see the note.
Sometimes, we applaud,
or actually have a vote.

Green was the grass,
near somewhere I'd be,
down by the river,
where you could find me.

Forewarned the wind,
of events, yet to come.
Bad news for many,
Good news for some.

Once, our lives were,
joyous and peaceful,
next the attacks,
so blatantly willful.

Attacking the innocent,
elsewhere, abroad,
In the name of
a different God.

Are you a skeptic,
of things you, see?
I am, at the moment,
for I cannot see, thee.

When did life,
lose its simplicity,
of loving thy neighbor,
and do unto thee?

To respect others
and all the family,
building it with love
and civility.

From out of the dust,
of ill-gotten gains,
who is the culprit,
sharing the blame?

Comes forth, the dark horse,
with all the trash it will bring,
pouring forth the truth,
with each song to sing.

A bright,
heavenly floss,
a thread, suspended in air,
flits across my head.

What a strange phenomenon,
on this early Spring morning,
when bits of colored thread,
from the recently born spirits,
encompasses you.

Golden rays of sunshine,
filtered through,
flowering trees,
bringing an essence.

A scent which will overcome,
all your earthly desires.

Church bells,
clattered, clanging in the night,
a continual noise,
putting earthly spirits in flight.