(History Poem) 112 Years Ago

112 YEARS AGO

 

December 5th, 1905, the Lord put an Angel in our life

Family history, a Beautiful pink Rose opened her eyes

Sophie Amanda Hanson, such a beautiful little girl child

Eyes filled with light, love, and little girl wonders, and fears

Always slight in personal possessions, yet full of hugs and love

Loving and caring, always centered on others, a gracious Soul

 

 

After 90 of our years the Lord seen fit to bring Her back home

As long as a person is remembered, they are never really gone

Blessed to have her daughter for my wonderful loving Mom

Your loving Soul now playing Rook with the Lord’s Angels above

The date of your birth, our family still honors your memory of

112 years soon you will be, this 5th of December, 1905 to 2017

 

(Philosophy/Poem) Daddy’s Little Princess

Daddy’s Little Princess

 

 

Little girls are so pretty from the time they are born

With their smiles like heaven so tender and warm

They learn to toddle and waddle and land on their buns

With eyes lit like Angels, with hearts so tender and warm

 

God’s gifts from Mommy’s bellies to Daddy’s outstretched arms

The Princess is taken to her castle where she is safe from all harm

 

Till school does begin and her new world she does charm

Smiling, and tender is she Daddy wrapped around her finger

Till finished with schooling then her beau down on one knee

 

Her Knight in shining armor does take her away

From Mom and Dad to her new castle she goes

Where the Queen of her own domain she now be

 

Not long in her new Kingdom her belly does rise

The Lord delivers to her and her King a 7 pound delight

A little bundle with bright pink blanket and shining eyes

With a smile like unto Heaven, a new Princess arrives

(Philosophy War/Poem) Young Soldier

Young Soldier

When we were young did we not all play

Pretending to be generals and sergeants

In our backyards or barns filled with hay

 

President Mom calling a truce

To fill our bellies with hot biscuits and ham

No foul, no harm, no spills I guess

When young, is not time and the world

Your personal sandbox of new thrills

17 am I now not a macho-he man

Jungles and deserts I now low crawl

With M-16 with M-203 in my hands

I hold my breath and tweak my sight

With one finger I squeeze the trigger

Now one less breath, one less man

 

As the earth inhales the blood

To me just one more notch

One more trophy on my butt stock

As his last breath leaves with the wind

 

Is there blood on my conscience

For the blood on that’s on hands

Not knowing that my temple

Is the target of this mans friend

17, my life is over before it began

 

 

(Poem) Those Eyes

Those Eyes

The first eyes that we ever see

There filled with happiness and glee

Warmth in the smiles of Momma’s eyes

Those eyes do comfort and anxieties ease

First grade crushes every girl on the buses

Eyes filled with smiles and simplicity

Twinkles of glee and faces with blushes

Those eyes of adolescent crushes

Young adult eyes all filled with dreams

Hearts filled with love for your Bride

Those eyes, of a heart not yet broken

Middle age crazy our minds filled with lust

Lying here in bed with our neighbors wife

Remembering the heat and the lust in those eyes

Hearing a sound, it did not come from us

Stumble into the street everyone’s eyes looking up

There the saddest eyes I have ever seen

The eyes of the Lord looking straight at me

Mothers Day

Mother’s Day

Today’s the day that we are told

To honor our moms from times of old

The love of ones’ mom is purer than the finest gold

The love of a mom for child, the smile unbridled

The shine in their eyes, the touch of their hand

A kiss on your cheek the touch of her hand

A love and honor that never will bend

Mother, every child’s first best-est best friend

From our first day of school through college we labor

Mom holding our hand with love that doesn’t waver

Yet when needed kicking us in the seat of our pants

As time rolls on the day will come to all

Her hug you can’t get nor the touch of her hand

You will find your heart breaking

When her name in stone is written

Young Soldier

Young Soldier

When we were young did we not all play

Pretending to be Generals and Sergeants

In our backyards or barns filled with hay

President Mom calling a truce

To fill our bellies with hot biscuits and ham

No foul, no harm, no spills I guess

When young, is not time and the world

Our personal sandbox full of new thrills

 

17 who can now say that I am not a man

Jungles and deserts I now low crawl

With M-16 with 203 in my hand

I hold my breath and tweak my sight

With one finger the trigger I quietly squeeze

One less breath, one less enemy,one less man

As the earth inhales their blood

To me one more notch, one more trophy

As his last breath leaves with the wind

Is there blood on your conscience

For the blood on your hands

Not knowing your temple

Is the target

17 your life is over

Before it began

Young Soldier

Young Soldier

When we were young did we not all play

Pretending to be generals and sergeants

In our backyards or barns filled with hay

President Mom calling a truce,

To fill our bellies with hot biscuits and ham

No foul, no harm, no spills I guess

When young, is not time and the world

Our personal sandbox full of new thrills

17 who can now say that I am not a man

Jungles and deserts I now low crawl

With M-16 with 203 in my hand

I hold my breath and tweak my sight

With one finger the trigger I quietly squeeze

One less breath, one less man

As the earth inhales their blood

To me one more notch, one more trophy

As his last breath leaves with the wind

Is there blood on your conscience

For the blood on your hands

Not knowing your temple

Is the target

17 your life is over

Before it began

Black Water In The Swamp

 

 

Black Water in the Swamp

The Black water is alive in the swamp

Mister, can you see even in the light of day

When you see the black water move

Does a chill run up your spine

In the swamp the water is alive

Makes even the strongest of men

Cry for their granny of their mom

Bubba chill out, boy can’t you see

Just a cotton mouth chewing on your knee

Beneath the swamps water so black on top

So clear underneath, what brought you down

12 foot gator, now you see him eye to eye

Now the water in the swamp so dark

Yes Sir Mister, this is where you die!

What I Have Seen: In My Time

In My Time

 

O Lord the things I have seen

O Lord the things you have shown me

South West Virginia, Blue Ridge mountains

Iron Ridge culture, poor white, 1950’s

“I’m going to start remembering now”

The first words I ever remembering hearing

Spoken aloud from within my own soul

Placing all the room’s within our little house

Counting the concrete steps around the outside

From front porch to the back yard I count

In the back yard both parents working

How did I know those steps were concrete

Better yet, how did I know how to count

I know plainly I was just two years old

Setting on the front porch my two siblings by my side

Walking across the dirt drive to the wood gate

Sunny day watching the cattle on the other side

Mom gave us each a nickel, for each a coke to buy

Down the hill to the Shell station just below

O how hard it was on Mom to be so poor

Minimum wage factory workers

The people just chafe on the rich man’s floor

I guess it’s easier on the children

As long as they do not know just how poor you are

Once the school bell rings your innocence dies

Each day reality is something from which you can not hide

Mid 1960’s migrate to the west hoping for a better life

Traded the Blue Ridge for the Black Hills

The things a nine-year old’s eyes ingest

Big Rigs in the moonlight first time for me to see

Mid August rattlesnakes in the hot sand

Chest high snow in September, O what a strange land

Being so poor it’s so hard to escape it

Just a year later we up and move again

Just west of Windy, this time with a plan

Each place so much pain the eyes intake

Cursed with an alcohol disease riddled parent, no escape

Knowing you are hated as he beats you with glee

Knowing that other adults know and see

But no one ever comes to your aid, they just let it be

Life’s early hardships makes you grow solvent inside

About the age of four in the cloud I found you Lord

My life long rock you are always by my side

Without you Lord many times I would have died

Growing up in the midwest, with a hillbilly state of mind

With some knowledge of the Black Hills

These memories always placed deep in my mind

Now my mirror finds me aged

I see the beard of gray, through store-bought eyes

At this age my heart has seen lot’s of memories

I see some of the good I have done in my life

Though I try to forget all of those pictures

I hope to give ego no quarters to hide

In my time Lord you have shown me many things

Through Your Spirit you have given me sight

Through these windows You have given me

I now see the world’s plight and it’s demise

So easy for depression to crush you from inside

Our leaders so filled with deceit Your truths they deny

With enough dollars their power you can buy

I know that by the time the trumpet sounds

I will long since be dust once again

But for my children and theirs I pray each night

The battle of the Nations against the return of God

Poor souls not knowing that this is Armageddon

The Nations fighting against the world’s creator

The Demons that are and that control the world’s leaders

Having been prejudged now into Hell they’re thrown

Leaving the deceived humans to fight God’s Holy Angels alone

They are now like grapes in the winepress of their Creator

Confused, disillusioned, dead, from the face of the earth their gone

Dear Lord I thank you that this is one thing You are holding off

Please give the world’s people more time to find you and repent

I wish that no humans would ever be to Hell’s fire sent

Lord there are many things I would like to thank you for

Like Armageddon, that I will not have to see in my time

The Son He Doesn’t Have To Be

 

Have you ever been a step-parent? Have you ever been a stepchild? I grew up in a house where I had both of my biological parents there. Did you notice that I did not use the word ‘home’, that I simply said house? Just because I had both of my biological parents living within the same four walls as I did, this did not mean that it was automatically a ‘home’. I had a great Mom but my Dad was severely lacking in his human skills. I left home at 17 because of how much of a hell-hole he made of our family life. He died when I was 37 and it took me till I was about 40 before I could forgive him of his ways toward me. Only when I was able to say to myself that he really was an ‘a–hole’ and that he also was mentally ill before I was able to forgive him. I know that I asked my Mom a couple of times before she died if Dad really was my Dad, asking her if maybe Dad thought that I really wasn’t his as I was trying to find a way to come to grips with how horribly he treated me and if there really was a ‘why’ that made any sense. I thought that if maybe he thought that I really wasn’t his, that if he thought Mom had cheated on him that this might be the reason he was such an a– toward me but she told me no both times about the issue. There is an old term about ‘beating you like you’re a redheaded step child’ that might come into play with me but that wasn’t it, I am of his own blood. I brought this up because I was the only blonde child and the only left-handed child, so I thought, well maybe. I did not ever experience a step-parent situation even though I honestly felt having no Dad in our house would have been much better than having a hate filled drunken maniac dominating our household.

I grew up determined not to be anything like my Dad’s example of a human being though I did make many parenting mistakes of my own. I married a lady in Texas who had a son who was 11 at the time we met and married, he is now 46 and married with a child/son of his own and as far as I know he is a great Dad who loves his son very much. 17 years ago I remarried to a lady in Florida who had a son who was 6 at the time, his biological Dad had committed suicide when he was 4. This son was a bit difficult because he didn’t believe or understand that both of us really did love him. He was about 16 before he actually ‘got it’, once he did see that light he now for the past 7 years has become a great child to both of us, especially to me. He is now 23 and a year ago his Mom and I bought a house that has a full 3 bedroom 1 bath apartment with a ‘walkout’ basement. One of the big factors in buying this house was so that he could live there if he wanted to, and he did.

Ten years ago his Mom and I would never have thought he could come so far in his development as a person, as an adult.  I am sure that none of the three of us would have thought that after he turned 18 that he would want anything to do with us or quite frankly us to do with him. What changed him? I believe it was him coming to the understanding of the fact that he really was loved, by both of us. He is a grown man now, there is nothing that says he has to live in this basement apartment, he chooses to. A couple of years ago he told me something that really stuck in my heart, that meant a whole lot to me. He told me, “Dad, all the good that is in me is because of you”. When a child you have raised loves you even when they are adults and there is nothing that says they have to do so or to even pretend that they do, that is very gratifying to one’s Soul. About 20 or so odd years ago there was a Country Music song that came out called “the Dad he doesn’t have to be” about a man stepping into a marriage with a woman who had a son already and how this man performed his role as a Dad. I am blessed to have two sons who were not biological to me that still love me, even though they do not have any obligation to have to do so. This is why the title of this note to you “the son he doesn’t have to be.” I am a strong believer in blood family yet I have learned that blood alone does not guarantee they will love you. I have also learned that someone who is not blood to you can still absolutely be “family” and love you even more that those who are blood to you do.