Your Poems. Your Stories.

THE DAY YOU WERE BORN,YOU WERE A STAR
LIKE SOMEONE ISOLATED IN A VACANT CAR
WHETHER YOU MAKE OR YOU MAR
OR YOU INITIATE A HEALTHY WAR
ALL THESE THINGS ARE WORTHLESS SO FAR
LEAVING ASIDE YOU AS THE SINGLE STAR

THE DAY YOU DIE,YOU ARE JUST BORN
YOU CAN BE KILLED,YOUR SPIRIT CAN’T BE TORN
SURROUNDED BY HYPOCRITE FRIENDS AND ENEMIES HYPOTHETICAL
MAKING YOUR EVERY MOMENT SO CRITICAL
EVEN ENJOYED YOUR DEEPEST CUTS
REMEMBERING THAT THE DARKEST HOUR HAS ONLY 60 MINUTES

YOU ALONE HAVE TO FACE THE CRITICS
WHEN EVERYTHING SURROUNDED TURNED INTO BRICKS
STILL YOU SURVIVE IN BETWEEN
A WORLD WHICH IS SO MEAN-
TO TAKE ADVANTAGE
WHETHER YOU DO A JOB OR STUDY IN A COLLEGE

YOU ALWAYS RECOVER FROM YOUR PAST
WHETHER YOU WERE PLACED FIRST OR AT THE LAST
HARDLY ANYONE HELPS YOU RISE
STILL YOU FLY FASTER THAN ALL THE FLIES

LIKE ALL THE BOOKS IN THE LIBRARY
YOUR NAME IS ALSO ISOLATED IN HIS DIARY
YOU ARE ALONE EVEN IN A GROUP
THOUGH YOUR LIFE FOLLOWS A CLOSED LOOP
YOU HAVE NO ALLIES BUT ONLY AGENTS
YOU ARE A SUPERPOWER LIKE THE COLOURLESS PAINTS

GOD IS ONE.EVEN HE IS ISOLATED
YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE WHOM YOU CREATED
YOU ARE YOUR FATHER,YOU ARE YOUR MOTHER
YOU ARE YOUR BROTHER,YOU ARE YOUR SISTER
EVERYONE SURROUNDED IS ONLY YOU
IT’S YOU AND YOU ALONE IN THE QUEUE

SUN IS ALONE,SO IS THE MOON
YOU WILL LEAVE YOUR CLONE AT THE DARKEST NOON
WITH THE SAME PAIN GOD LETS YOU OFF THE FREEDOM
WHICH HE GAVE THE DAY YOU WERE CREATED
AND WHICH YOU ENJOYED DURING A STARDOM WHICH WAS ISOLATED

The moon is shining bright tonight-
Remembering a dream-
And I wish I was in TEXAS-
Fort Worth, or Abaline!

The radio says its RAINING-
An I know very well-
That every road in TEXAS
Is SLIPPERY as hell!

Down there in Mighty DALLAS-
The POLICEMEN STAND AROUN’-
When KENNEDY tried to just ride by-
They let em SHOOT HIM DOWN!

It took six seconds in Texas-
To change the world aroun’
They have marked the place there in the street-
WHERE THE GUNMEN SHOT HIM DOWN!

WE NEVER FORGET TEXAS!
Fort Worth, and Abaline-
The moon is shinging bright down there-
A lighting up a dream.

And we don’t forget DALLAS!
THAT IS A MIGHTY TOWN!
When our brave KENNEDY went down there-
THREE GUNMEN SHOT HIM DOWN!

When the present occupant of the “White-House” is gone-
And we never can see “Jackie” any more!
And the little laughing CAROLINE
Who always ran along-
What did they have, that no one had before?

I never can see Caroline, without a little sigh,
And “Jackie” with her dress, so small and slim-
I can’t forget the PRESIDENT, as he went walking by-
Someday I know we’ll ALL REMEMBER HIM!

What will we do, when days go by-
And…..they are gone away?
What other man can ever match his smile?
The singing birds, and butterflies,
And lambs let out to play,
Will bring me CAROLINE, a little while!

We CAN”T forget the President,
The trouble he has had-
His curly hair just laughed-
Tho he was grim!
The winds across the world are strong-
And….everything is bad-
But, when he’s gone,
Then we’ll remember him!

The morning sun is breaking
Through the gloomy eastern sky-
the world is slowly turning on its wheel-
Is there a “House of Never”
Where the mighty seem to fly?
A far off better land, in By and By!

He always had a voice of HOPE-
A vision for the world!
A GOLDEN STAIRWAY, LEADING US TO PEACE,
The common man could see it-
Like a pathway, in the sky!
A GALLAHAD… who sought the Golden Fleece!

They claim DRAKE said “WHEN I AM GONE”
“HANG MY DRUM IN A TREE!”
“POUND ON IT WHEN YOUR POWDER’S RUNNING LOW!”
And…”I will leave the farthest star,
To come, oer land and sea,
And help you, as I used to long ago!

We’ll go sailing down the Channel-
We’ll take the ships to sea!
WE SILL SAIL THEM, AS WE USED TO, LONG AGO!

The pheasants are starving in
four foot af snow!
With Northerners blowing, at
twenty below!
Out there in the Soil Bank, wher
snowdrifts are deep.
The pheasants are lying, for-
ever to sleep!

The news came from Washington,
right from the wire-
“Feed-the-poor-pheasants!” like
a prairie on fire!
John found a pheasant, its last
strength was shorn,
And it died in his hand, too late
to eat corn!

The pheasants get such a sad
gleam in their eyes,
When they take the last look, at
the wide open skies!
They can’t dig through snow, a
few weed-seeds forlorn,
And all that they need, a few
handfuls of corn!

The big Soil Bank acres, that’s
where they lay,
The snow is so deep, and they
can’t get away!
You find the big holes they dug,
struggling along,
With nothing to eat, and the
strawpiles are gone.

The spring-days are only a short
ways away–
The brook will be singing, where
soft breezes play:
The grainfields will wave, as the
warm wind goes by:
But not for the bird who looked
last at the sky.

They once were so happy, the
summer-days made
“A Garden of Eden!” in sunshine
and shade,
They died in a snowdrift, for-
saken, forlorn,
When no one came down the
road, bringing them, corn.

Oh the happy, happy Farmer,
He is getting ready now-
To harness up the horses,
And attach them to the plow!

The wild geese flying over-
Flying far- and flying free-
Oh, the Prairie Farmers dreaming-
There his greatest pleasures be!

He can hear the wild geese calling
Flying free, and flying far-
And the tired Farmer’s dreaming-
There his only pleasures are!

Theres a hill, away out yonder-
Theres a field- that once was mine-
In the years beyond tomorrow,
Take me back, to supper-time!

With the horses standing chewing-
In the old grey barn, out there-
And the wind, just softly blowing-
O’er a Land of little care!

Take me back, to those old spring days,
When the Farmer, followed plow-
And the world was way out yonder-
Past the hills, we saw put west-
And the days were long, and quiet-
Even birds had time to sing-
When I heard, the wild geese calling-
From the clouds, that frift and blow-
Drift and blow, across te summer-
And- the – spring – time — long ago.