Pigeons for Target Practice
I recently have heard
that they use living birds
for target practice shooting –
How could this occur????
The cruelty of this
is obvious to all,
shooting pigeons as their fate
and glory as they fall.
A Wildlife magazine
slanders these poor birds
and didn’t care their fate
as if they never heard.
Where are the people to defend
these gentle, harmless birds??
What kind of people are we
to hold them of no worth!!
I like to see them walk
high up on the roof
of the neighbor’s house
where they bill and coo.
They are most affectionate
and seem quite content –
satisfied and loving
with no dull intent.
Some people raise the pigeons
and some are very rare.
They are very careful
to get a healthy pair.
We all have heard of carrier pigeons
flying in the air,
carrying the messages
important here and there.
In an enormous square,
perhaps in Italy,
people feed the pigeons
very lovingly.
They flock all around,
some right at their feet,
always looking forward
to their daily feast.
How different are these countries,
for their daily fare,
happily to feed them
or shoot them in the air.
We should be ashamed
that we are the one
who shots them in the air
with a deadly gun.
This country’s so degenerate
it’s really hard to say
which evil is the worst
we see every day.
The people are so far from God
and far from nature too
and trees and birds his handiwork
that we loved anew.
Will God forgive us crass and cruel
to treat his creatures so
or will we come to no good end
in his world below.
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Acceptance is a way
Acceptance is a way
of dealing with what comes;
never to resist it,
what can’t be undone.
It is a way of bending
with a force that falls,
letting it pass over,
and remaining whole.
They say that it is Eastern,
but graces any man.
Perhaps if you’re congenial,
then this method can.
It seems it would be better
than aggressive, ugly ways,
and all the competition
that besets us nowadays.
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They Used to Call it Love
They used to say that it was love
and now they call it sex –
another illustration of
our country’s decadence.
And in all the schools
this is what they teach
and dedicated followers
practice what they preach.
They used to say its love
or even that it’s kind
but now they say it’s thoughtful
on all the cards of mine.
I though that it was love,
sending this and that,
but all the cards say thoughtful
that ever I get back.
They used to call it love
but now they call it care.
You are a caring person
is always my despair.
I thought that it was love
to clean the house all day
and get a nice warm dinner
but that’s not what they say.
I thought that it was love,
suffering thru the day,
and being so unhappy
so you could have your way.
But none of it is love,
or that is what they say
and sort of dulls it down
till it is every day.
it’s not included in our thoughts
and gets left out somehow
and many substitutions
but real love’s left out.
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Will your taxes change the Rockies
Will your taxes change the Rockies
or make another bed
for the Mississippi
as all millennia have.
Will they change the pace of time,
bring peace upon the earth
or settle any arguments
of which there is no dearth.
Or make a spring or make a bird
or trees upon the land
or give us just one summer
as all His wisdom has.
Custom
There was a Chinese family
with members very many.
Each family had a separate room
adjoined to all the others too.
Now Chin and Yang were newly wed
and in this system they were bred.
But they never thought it best
for with a child were not blessed.
As the endless months passed by
Chin and Yang did breathe a sigh
and sought to ask their grandmother
about a plan they would prefer.
Yang said that they would like to go
to a park that they did know
where the flowers were so bright
and the sky was clear and light;
where the trees always bent near
and a stream ran cool and clear.
With the help of all of these
I think I can conceive.
So grandmother gave her consent
and on their journey these two went.
And found the place that they had sought
at the end of their long walk.
And they fell in love again
and he her heart did win.
And it may be strange to say
but they had many progeny.
And grandma held a little child,
glad she let them walk those miles.
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Great
We know very little of
the things we daily use.
We flip a switch and lights go on
and we expect them to.
Or turn a key and ‘step on it’
and down the street we cruise.
We take for granted all these things
that so familiar are.
But could you make the smallest part
of a ship or car?
Or metal spoon or plastic sack
or a clear pane of glass?
Even what I’m writing on
is much too hard, alas.
Altho we say we’re more advanced
than other cultures in the past,
who among us could create
bridges, buildings, planes in space?
We’re really not superior
to use what others make.
Just to flip a switch
doesn’t mean we’re great.
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Our Youth
They took religion out of schools
and substituted sex –
another illustration of
our country’s decadence.
They told them to express themselves,
say what was on their mind,
and act up if they wanted to,
it’s really not unkind.
They defied their parents,
kicked their teachers too
and a brand new age began –
Do what you want to do.
When God was out of schools
they took their parents next,
overturning centuries
of training and the rest.
Nothing could they do with them,
defied them every way,
completely out of hand
or else they ran away.
it took away the childhood years
of sweetness, innocence,
substituting TV shows
or murder and the rest.
Shaken in their being,
dislodged and out of place,
shattered in their background
could win no kind of race.
Combined with broken families
and left out in the cold,
fighting for themselves,
they started taking dope.
And now we don’t have children
as they were before.
With all this lethal mixture
they were kids no more.
So now it’s dope and sex
from this philosophy,
broken homes and crime
and talk back endlessly.
It seems that they ran over us
and running over still,
had to have their own way
and exercise their will.
Tho some survived this crisis
they were very few
and most descended unto depths
the worst they ever knew.
It was far more devastating
then we ever dreamed
and all of the results
mostly unforeseen.
The country lies in ruins
in many basic ways,
all because the children
had to have their way.
Survival is their motto
in grim determined tone.
I’m sorry for their world,
I’m glad it’s not my own.
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Requiem for a Lady
It is with great sadness
a lady was laid low
for no other reason
than they willed it so.
With great determination
they broke her into parts
separate from the life blood
of communication arts.
Now she had been faithful
for o’er 100 years
and always did a better job
as she went in high gear.
It costs you less to call right now
than in the years behind.
Value and free service
mottos they lived by.
And so it is with sadness
our friend was set aside –
ideal of good business
but yet Ma Bell did die.
We know she did her very best
and people had at heart
and served them well and truly
and did not want to part.
Of all the nation’s businesses
she was number one.
Efficiency and service
in a job well done.
And so we say in parting
we’ll miss you one and all.
It will never be the same
when we make a call.
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Is There Anyone Left????
It must be a land of cripples,
or that’s the way it seems,
as ad after ad on TV
announces the plight of these.
Every problem in the world
flashed before your eyes,
everybody needing help,
you didn’t realize.
More and more they shout at you,
push each other to get thru
and dump their problems on your lap –
it’s up to you. Just like that.
(We need lots of money
so that we can live.
We need lost of money
so give and give and give.)
And as the ads go on and on
so easily you tire
of hearing of deformities
of every kind of life.
Some not as bad as you yourself,
soon you realize,
but all these groups get up and shout,
Give us back our life.
Is there anyone left who’s healthy,
strong and full of zest,
or everyone’s in the trashcan,
thrown with all the rest.
It must be a land of cripples,
if you watch TV,
a land that’s very weak,
bursting at the seams.
Easy to run over
and force your will upon
a nation that’s so weak,
a nation so far gone.
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Say a Tear for the Foundries
Say a tear for the foundries,
where men sweat and froze –
the furnace before them,
and in back, the cold.
Say a tear for the foundries,
where strong men strained,
and wore out young,
and buried their remains.
Our nation built on sweat –
steel to steel, in the
strength of their men,
never to happen again.
Work young.. die young
live hard in-between.
Say a prayer for the men of steel –
in war or peace, a misfit deal.
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The Comptrollers
The comptroller at airports
marched to a false tune,
following false pied piper
who let them to their doom.
When they had them out of there
the government had its own,
military personnel
the airports to control.
Thus in an emergency
they might create themselves
the government controls the skies
as TV and all else.
They might deploy the rockets
or anything they choose
from any airport in the land
they operate exclusive.
And thus they fooled us once again
to take a tighter grip
on world dominion, power,
lest their finger slip.
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Lowering the Bar
The Dancing in West Indies
where they lower the bar –
the dancer must get under it
straining very hard.
Reminds me of the government
always lower the boom –
heavier, heavier taxes
leaving us no room.
Our life is squeezed to limits
far beyond our strength
and money goes to government
instead of to the bank.
Some day they will drop the bar
flat upon the ground
and on one can get under
and no one can get out.
Caught between the government
and starving one by one,
and absolute control
until our life is done.
And we will be but pawns
who once danced hard and free
and their tightened grip
will rule absolutely.
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Omission
Some always try to banish
God from all our life
and keep him out of public functions,
school and such like.
they don’t allow prayer
or mention of his name
and cause a big commotion brings
the rest of us to shame.
They why don’t they object
on all the money too
where it says In God We Trust
as they usually do.
I haven’t heard objections
on this more basic score
and wonder if they overlooked
our motto just once more.
Cards
What are the rules of this peculiar game?
It’s not for all of us the same.
The weak, the strong, the brave, the poor
do not find the same allure
in puzzling rules of the game
meant to hurt, or meant to shame.
Are rules made to keep up down,
and be polite instead of frown?
Are rules for the working class
that wealth and power just bypass?
Ace and king are always high
and duce and tray work till they die.
Is it fair to bow to power
regardless of its worth?
Obedience to evil men
of whom there is no dearth.
One is up and one is down,
and one decides to walk around
on someone’s soul because they can
and they are heartless, cruel men.
To a Future Generation
To a future generation
it may be more clear
where our thinking went awry
in living yesteryear.
And tho we try repeatedly
we can never see
all of our surroundings
as they really be.
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TRI-MESS *
Tri-mess is what I call it
and that’s what it must be,
confusing system of the bus
that goes on locally.
If you don’t have the fare exact
you can’t get on at all –
whatever it may be that day
you really can’t recall.
Money goes in first
if you go to town
but when you’re coming home again
not till you step down.
If you ask the driver
what you ought to do
he makes a nasty comment
and folks laugh at you.
They even had some classes
on how to ride a bus
but didn’t scratch the surface
of unconfusing us.
They hired secret clothesmen
so we would pay our fare,
instead of putting in at first
and not when we get there.
they even thought that taxis
should be banned downtown
in all the rush hour traffic
so they could get around.
Can you imagine millionaires
in cattle or in oil
that couldn’t get a taxi
in all the rush hour turmoil.
The last they’d come to Portland
or stay at a hotel,
and give a worsening name to us
as they would quickly tell.
The buses mostly empty
and in the back you see
just one man is riding there,
it’s all for him only.
Even double buses
have often as their fare
2 or 3 who’re riding them
and all the rest is air.
* TRI-MET, the bus system in Portland, Oregon
At an intersection
2 double buses met –
each was almost empty –
I never did forget.
We have to buy unleaded gas
while diesel busses do us pass
The rules are different for the bus
or cars or vans or just plain us.
Now diesel trucks are quite O.K.
as they travel night and day
across the mountains, desert, plains
in lonely vigils, often pain,
delivering food, supplies and goods
to people waiting as they should.
But buses blow dirt in your face
as at a stop light you do wait.
Or in the evening traffic jam
you cough and sneeze and curse their plan.
Full of people? Not at all
but mostly empty have a ball.
And all the time are in the way
while cars and people dodge all day.
I thought to end this poem
but another mess
came to us quite suddenly
and added to the rest.
The new light rail system
was getting underway
when an overpass fell in
that was in the way.
Next they broke a pipeline
of pure natural gas
escaping in the area
and several hours did last.
They also dug a tunnel
under rocky hill
costing yet a billion
but their desire not fill.
It was for the rich
who parked their cars for free
to ride into downtown
so traffic would relieve.
Tri-mess was such a mess
it always needed help
and local businessmen were taxed
tho didn’t ride themselves.
For they charge the business man
to pay for empty busses when
they never, ever, ride at all
or get free passes…. what a gall.
For in the midst of all of this
the city council does exist.
and spends much time and energy
planning how each business pays.
Persisting in its wayward ways
and forcing busses on us days
or riding empty in the night
to rescue just one soul’s plight.
Is all this fair or make much sense
or do they tell us this time hence
we must submit and pay our dues –
coughing, choking, money too.
For we know it is the law
and who can break it – held in awe.
The way Tri-mess is run you see
it is a liability,
always needing money for
its inefficiency.
Tri-mess rules the city,
the tail that wags the dog,
and charges us all taxes
when only one gets on.
We’re just a baby city
and have a great big mess,
and better off without it –
it never would be missed.
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Census
The government should hand its head
that what it wants to know
is whether we are black or white
or Oriental.
They have fines and penalties
if you don’t let them know
if you are black or white
or Oriental.
It is a shame that in this age
when all the world is one,
they’re still hung up on color, race
like when life was begun.
It’s not into their consciousness
that all these folks are grown,
and live with one another
at work, at play and home.
In this day and age
which of us can tell
exactly what they are,
or ever knew, as well.
It is quite regressive
that they should ask these things.
They’re way behind the people
whom daily contact brings.
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ISSUE?
The Senator who recently
had slept with a page
who really not much different
than most folks in this age.
And all the great commotion
and pictures in the press
and serious TV interview
and all the rest.
Why they made an issue
is hard to understand
and Congress point its finger
at this man.
It really is so similar
to one that’s in the Bible
where the men did stone the woman
adulterous all the while.
“Ye who are without a sin
may cast a stone the first,”
but no one moved to cast a stone
at this adulteress.
And in this age of greater sin
that’s heavy all around
could any soul free of it
ever here be found.
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