I'd Like to Think

I'd like to think that people tend towards generosity and kindness
When all the time it's actually uncaring blindness;
I'd like to think that parents dearly love their children
Even though I know they'll never be forgiven;
I'd like to think that one loved would ne'er betray his kin,
But I know I'm just naive as I've seen it time and time again;
I'd like to think that a friend is always truly loyal
When actually he's egotistical and spoiled;
I'd like the think that all and sundry speak the truth
Even though I know most speak lies uncouth;
I'd like to think that dragons live in caves of turquoise blue,
But I know that line of thought it merely silly too.
I'd like to think of lot of things unfortunately false,
But I guess until they're true, I'll go on being lost.

Cheshire-cat Moon

I gaze at the Cheshire-cat moon in the sky,

    And I wonder where you are- far... or nigh;
I hear the rain and wind, howling, weeping,
    And I wonder if you're awake or sleeping;
The birds and the 'hoppers sing songs to me,
    And I wonder if your blithesome or melancholy;
The breeze in the night lays dead, quiet, and still,
    And I wonder how you are- healthy... or ill;
A thousand silent graves fill me with sorrow,
    And I wonder if I'll hear from you at all tomorrow
I think of how you feel, what you're doing, where you are,
    And I wonder why you must be so very, very far;
I gaze at the laughing Cheshire-cat moon in the night,
    And I know you and I will always be right.

Heaven

Heaven isn't the place it's made out to be
No angels with wings or doves flying free
No castles on clouds or thrones of sunlight
Angels cast out have put up a good fight

Heaven isn't a place full of love and warmth
Behind angel's hollow smiles the demons haunt
Claws that tear daily at my so-called dreams
Sharp teeth in mouths bursting at the seams

Heaven isn't a bright place full of laughter
Instead, angry souls that hiss "Faster, faster!"
Broken bones and bloodied bat wings
Red bandages that replace old slings

What happened to those killed in holocaust?
Angry lost angels that spontaneously combust
In gas and smoke, they make their way
To hell's gates, their dead bodies lay

Why were they cast out of heaven?
Their dreams and hopes to earth are leaden
Weighted down, held by human hands
Their heavy feet will drag the land

Heaven's lost its angelic feeling,
Just an object to suppress the calling
Suppressing questions that children will ask
Is it really there or is it just a mask?

Heaven, heaven, heaven come do your work,
The tears you bring when in darkness you lurk
What do you base on to bring us hope and life?
You've cast angels out just to avoid some strife.

Heaven, heaven, heaven are you real?
Sucking in children's souls just so you can be filled.
Heaven, heaven, heaven is a lie,
Angels holding flaming swords with nowhere they can fly.

Rainy Weather

Most call it dreary-
When storm clouds are teary-
"So dim and dark...
No fun at the park!"
They fuss, see, and whine-
Sitting on their behinds,
But the rest see the glory-
And the beautiful, magical story-
A story every time is rains
A story of anything- happy or pained...
The rain, the thunder, they play as a band-
They're poets, musicians, composing hand in hand!
They clash and strike and fall in synchrosity-
Playing, entertaining, delighting simultaneously
Ah, give me a thunderstorm any day-
Rain over sunshine, I say!
You sit and mope, seeing only mud
While I laugh and dance in the oncoming flood
Rainy weather is the life, you see;
Rainy weather is the kind for me!

The Story of the Hills

The story in the hills
None but the trees hear;
When all is quiet and still
The trees listen, gaze, and peer.

The story in the hills
Is told again and again;
When all is quiet and still,
The tale is told far from the ears of men.

The old, old oak sways in the breeze 'til
His branches are stretched and ready;
When all is quiet and still
The oak begins with voice all creaky.

He tells of the rabbits, opposoms, dear;
He tells of the squirrel, monkey and bear;
He speaks, his voice growing stronger for all to hear;
He speaks with meaning, love, and care.

The story of the hills-
The story passed down from oak unto oak
When all is quiet and still-
The story, the telling, when all awoke.

The beginning of the forest-
There was the Master who spoke,
And His feet the first grasses kissed;
"The first of all green swayed as He passed," said the oak.

"Then," continued he,
"The Lord molded man.
He gave heart, spirit, soul, will free,
And He gave dominion and land."

Far away in the hills
The old, old oak in the dale-
When all was quiet and still-
Passed on the history, the tale.

The beginning of the oceans, land, creatures,
The beginning of the earth,
The beginning of his her,
And, of course, he spoke of the forest's birth.

The old, old oak went on and on;
He told of all worlds' genesis;
He passed His story from dusk to dawn,
From morn of sun to night of mist.

Then all was quiet and still-
The forest absorbing its past.
The story of the hills-
The story passed down again at last.

Were The World Mine

Were The World Mine,
You would love me till I die,
Were The World Mine,
You would never, ever cry.

Were The World Mine,
They wouldn’t be like this,
Were The World Mine,
They wouldn’t hate a kiss.

Were The World Mine,
I would not be afraid,
Were The World Mine,
A good world would be made.

Were The World Mine,
It wouldn’t be afraid of change,
Were The World mine,
It would not care in sexual range.

Were The World Mine,
Everything would be fine,
Were The World Mine,
There would be no drawing of the line.

If only the world were mine...

The Hunger Games, A Poem

It’s sadistic, cruel, unforgiveable.
It’s menacing, evil, unforgettable.
This is what life is now,
Where you compete to live.


Where a young girl knows nothing,
An old boy knows everything,
Where she is bred to harvest,
He is bred for battle.


They fight, fight, fight.
They run, run, run.
They hide, hide, hide.
They die, die, die.


Snow has all the power,
Whiteness resembling evil,
What he says, what he does,
Is what the world follows.


Our life is based on fear,
Fear that we will be chosen,
To compete in the arena,
For what we call The Hunger Games.