song looking for its music

DANGEROUS GREED

We can do anything
As many of them sing
Around the world it rings
And yet, do we have wings

We can water the seed
And still remove the weed
Can perform wondrous deed
If God still intercedes

But can we make a plant
Or cause the sun to slant
Or stop all the world’s want
I’m sorry, but we can’t

So how is it we brag
Waving our little rag
Upon dangerous crag
That all we need is drag

Will he listen at all
To those who plead and call
I’ve let the flowers fall
Or will it not appall

See Eden turned to hell
No water in the well
Nowhere a living cell
Now who will ring the bell

We have the world in trust
And not for things that rust
We only have this crust
Until we turn to dust

So to live we must heed
Ever tend to the seed
Not let man be the weed
Or turn our lives to greed

Save the world for our sons
On, on, until it is done
Til the sands of life have run
All rise above the sun.

poem: Goldrush

well, I did say, various aspects of my personality. this following has a few baddy words, s.o.b., hell, deuce. Did I miss any?
If you can get by that, this is a pretty good poem if I do say so, oh, and those 'words'-'phrases'
have the distinction of being the only 'colored language' in fifty years of writing. pretty good huh?
If anyone ever saw a guy coming out of the bush, with pack and pan, and thought to themselves, "what a bum", well let me tell you, I 'have' walked a mile in their shoes times 'X'. I was and am proud to be in that number.

GOLDRUSH


Sonofabitch
We’re gonna get rich
We’re in the Cariboo now

Never mind the snow
Oh, it’s time to go
Yes, we’re in the Cariboo now

To hell with the cold
Gonna get that gold
We’re in the Cariboo now

Shades of Bill Barker
We look for the lost marker
Searching the Cariboo wood

Hey mr. grizz, get lost
We’re in, whatever the cost
Oh, that Cariboo gold

Well, sonofabitch
And many a homemade stitch
We’re still in the Cariboo hills

The glitter of gold
Whatever the mold
Will drive the strongest hearts wild

Set up that sluice
We don’t give a deuce
We want that Cariboo gold

With concentrated sands
Washed out in the pans
Ah, the glitter of gold

An ounce, two, or maybe three
Are hailed with shouts of glee
Echoing through the trees

The miners heart is strong
Struggling to get along
Just as the ghosts of the past

Yes, sonofabitch
We’re gonna get rich
We’re in the Cariboo now.

Dave.C

poem [longest I have ever written]

[one aspect of my being, and from a mystics point of view]

MEDITATIONS AND REFLECTIONS

In the light of caring
Of love
In the abstract
A moment
Given over to loving
The frailty
Inherent in us all
Comes true insight
To an ancient wisdom
Upheld
Through the centuries
By one man
A prophet
The messiah
And such he was
In light
Of his caring mode
His drive
For men to see
Their own spirituality
The delicate position
So precarious
Viewed from the universe
Precious indeed
To that which is all
Evidenced
By the fact that we are
And so we reflect
The prophet
When we care
Give over thoughts
Of private gain
To benefit
A special someone
Guided to us
To teach
And learn from
As indeed all men are
So too, you and I
The spiritual journey
Begins
When we begin to share
All that we are
With those
Who come our way
Not blinded
By falsehood and lie
To that special person
Hidden, often buried
Deep within a shell
That defense
Against the world
Built and defended
Fanatically
Afraid that spirit
That devine essence
In each of us
Is not strong enough
To deflect
All that this life
Has to throw against it
Forgetting, perhaps
That He gave us life
For his own purpose
And in that context
Will protect all men
Following Him
To the extent that he may
Allowing us to fall
Only
To the lessons of earth
That we may grow
Take our place
One small part
Of the Causeless Cause
Forgetting too
Though gained again
As we travel through
This life
That from somewhere
There is always, always
The strength within
To get back up
When knocked down
To smile after the tear
Love, when hatred dies
The prophet showed
All men
That the world grows
In love
That hatred is an abstract
To be shunned
Studied perhaps
Then tucked away
With other lessons
Of life
In favor of the future
Love is a view
A window
To be sought after
Tomorrow
Hatred is a barred door
To that future
Mirrored in the past
Locking us where we are
And so, no sunlight
To the seed
It stagnates
Perhaps sends out a shoot
Into the darkness
But not finding any light
The shoot, the seed
Withers and dies
Against the will of God
But He can only guide
For He gave us choice
A most marvelous tool
Of learning
Carried through this life
For at every stage
At every turn
Whichever path
May be taken
Choice is theirs, ours
Life’s education
Teaching us daily
How to use these choices
To achieve the most
Of all we want, need
To fit us for our journey
Home
Let our journey create
The light for another
Lost in a useless folly
Clutching to this life
As though it were all
That can be had
Unable to see the light
Except as shared by us
With them
Our love a beacon
To show them truth
That we are born
To be born again
In God
And therefore, in truth
Have we shown that Death
That gruesome terror
Has been conquered
After all
For the fear of death
Will be no more
Than a fear of the unknown
So that as we conquer fear
We do indeed, conquer death
And in that surety
Do we put one more brick
In place
One special piece
Upon which
The world may grow
Cleanse and purify itself
For the lives and souls
Of those
Who have yet to travel
These roads
Upon which we tread
This day
Feel the pride in knowing
That God
Found us useful
In fulfilling His purpose
Upon this Earth
Now look again
At the world around you
Can you see
The subtle change
In its texture
Its demeanor
As we see it from where
We truly are
See the colors mix
And blend
Astounding color
Marvellous shapes
The miracle of life
Of every breath we take
The caress of the breeze
Beneath a loving sun
The sky above us
Protecting us from harm
Clouds by day
And moon and stars
By night
To remind us
Again and again
Of the majesty
Of it all
The miracle in a seed
The seed of nature
From which the mighty
Pine
Does grow
The seed of love
So necessary
So neglected
But that once planted
Can do naught
But grow
And grow
To that
Which we do recognize
As
God.

[poem became a meditation piece for a nun and priest of my acquaintance]