Archive for the 'Writers Interest' Category



Changin’ Times II

There was a time generations ago

when the frail held a special place

at the family table

 

            we wanted to love

 

There was a time generations ago

when we sat at Grandma Mary’s feet

and heard her stories

 

            we wanted to know

 

Now is a time of

bleach     bland food    walkers

blaring Fox News

 

            stored like teacups in a cupboard

Hyphen

Carl Shakey married Becky Tree

became my parents

so I was

Chuck Shakey-Tree

 

a few months ago I married

the beautiful daughter of

George Dull and Brenda Axe

my new bride, Charly

told me today of our pending child

 

I ponder the burdensome name for a child

to learn to spell

Carl or Carla

Shakey-Tree-Dull-Axe

Poor Choices

O, let America be America again –

The land that never has been yet –

And yet must be—          Langston Hughes

 

Children are foolish

 

to be born of parents

with no parenting skills

 

or the temerity

to be sick or malnourished

 

or to have nothing

and come to a land of plenty

 

or commit the crime

of darker skin, different tongue

 

as a nation proclaiming God

and rejecting His will

 

can we provide

for the least of these?

Togetherness

“I’ll be everywhere…. Wherever they’s a fight so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there.” John Steinbeck,  The Grapes of Wrath

 

each new day kills plans

to earn his way,

in all this land there is no place to go

 

his daughter wears

a tearful, crooked smile

her hunger a spear run through his soul

 

his promises come flat

and meaningless

his shame floods every corner of each breath

 

until he hops a freight

and goes away

to try and send a dime to take his place

King Rick

Say Rick, old partner, old hoss
it’s about time
for you to pack up your bags
and ride on out of Austin

I grew up thinkin’ I had the smarts
to decide a few things for myself
Maybe others feel the same way

Maybe folks with darker skins want
to vote and have it count
Maybe some women
don’t want you running their lives

You got your tail in a bit of a crack
when you tangled with Wendy Davis
fussed at her like your wayward kid sister
when you didn’t get your way
She put on her runnin’ shoes
and stood up for us commoners

The third point I want to make is ….
well hold on to your britches while I think of it—
I guarantee it’s important
just skipped my mind

For Gabriell

For Gabrielle
a madman
left a silver trail through your brain
mandating you give up your life

stubborn you stood against
the gun that does not kill
refused to go

you battle through each day
wet with frustration’s tears
cheers for each small victory

Now you fight a new battle

you stand with raised fist
whisper your battle cry

“enough”

and I
stand with you

If World Leaders Had Ears

If world leaders had ears

they could hear people crying

not for want of treasure

but for their hunger

for need of care

for desire of equality

and for the children

 

 


If world leaders had eyes

they could see their people hurting

not for opulent mansions

but for freedom from oppression

for freedom from brutality

for freedom from humiliation

for freedom from ignorance

for freedom to find a better life

for their children

 

 


If world leaders had arms

they could reach out to their people

not for purpose of boast or brag

but for want of bringing comfort

for want of aiding the aged

for want of embracing the sick

for want of lifting the fallen

especially the children

 

 


If world leaders had hearts

they could feel their people’s need

not turn their backs and glance away

but be filled with compassion and grace

be filled with knowledge of what is right

be filled with love for people, not wealth

and have the wisdom of children.

 

 


Hal C Clark – June 5, 2011 rev

 

Our world is still filled with violence, terrorism, hatred, and other maladies. I wish it wasn’t so, but this is where we are. In spite of what we have, I still like to imagine a better world and solutions to our problems. Saying they don’t exist doesn’t solve anything. For me, a major problem is in what there is too little of.

We are here, on this earth

In this life,

for one purpose:

to love and be loved.

Any activity which does not

promote this purpose

is wrong.

We all differ in our opinions, and that is as it should be. I see no constructive purpose in attacking the person who doesn’t agree with our opinion. Discuss the differences, yes. Try to work out a solution, yes. Attack the person as if he is the enemy, no

 

We have enough enemies in our lives, among our nations, without recruiting new ones. In my dream world, I imagine living life with peace in my soul. There are others in the world who believe as  I do. It is time to stand for our beliefs and speak out.

All of Me

All of Me

 

I remember that night

when I was just eight

and Mom was passed out with

the glass still in her hand.

It plays in my head like a

scary movie

that never ends.

As I lay in my bed on

the edge of sleep,

a knife of dim light

washed over my pillow and disappeared.

I trembled as I listened to him

breathe in the dark.

*

He had never come into my room,

this man who lived with Mom.

He sat on my bed and the springs

shrieked in protest as

he placed his hand gently on my chest,

driving tears from my eyes,

the breath from my lungs,

and leaving a stain of fear

on my nightgown

where he touched me.

*

Still quiet,

he pulled my hands away from me to

a part of him that was

hot and swollen,

his pumping blood beating a

tempo against my hands

like tiny drums.

I cried out when he pushed his fingers

into a private part of me

and cut me into

small pieces.

I closed my eyes and hid what was left

in a hollow place

deep inside me.

*

He moved my hands on

himself, breathing more quickly until

he made a small sound and

there was wetness on my

hands and arms

that felt like glue.

Don’t tell your mom

what you did, he said,

and left as quietly as he came.

*

He has invaded my room often

since that night,

but using that angry, hateful part of him

instead of fingers and

each time taking away

a small part of me.

*

Three years and

I have nothing left.

He has taken away

all of me

that was me.

I can give no more.

As he comes through my door,

eager,

bare and ready,

and climbs on my bed,

I reach beneath my pillow,

place the blade against his chest,

and watch as it disappears.

Hal C Clark – February 2011

Each year, thousands of children are sexually abused, usually by someone they know well. The children are scarred for the rest of their lives, although many eventually learn to cope with the pain. They don’t understand why these things happen to them, often believing it is their fault or that they deserve such treatment. We are all familiar with the stories of priests molesting young boys because these stories make the headlines. So many of the cases we never hear about, but the victims are still all around us. This is a cancer of our society and MUST be stopped.

I do not believe killing is the answer to anything, so it surprised me when the line “I reached beneath my pillow” came to me and I let the victim have the last word. It says something about the desperation, humiliation, degradation, and futility of the experience. I decided to let it stand. It is time to do something about this problem, and public awareness is the first step.

Please leave a comment and let me know how you feel.

Collateral Damage

Collateral Damage

 

They haunt me in my briefest sleep,

     They’re never far away,

Their shattered bodies stay with me

     In the night or light of day.


From somewhere came a storm of fire;

     We fired back at the place.

Women’s screams and children’s cries,

     Red-spattered on each face.


Mothers and their small children

     Lay in gory refrains,

And nowhere can the guns be found

     ‘Mid twisted, torn remains.


Shards of a loving family,

     A grimace shrouds each face,

Embrace in bloody agony, their

     Bodies like antique lace.


How can these be my enemies?

     No guns or arm held high,

There, children’s cherub faces

     Without a will to die.


I’m in a constant battle,

     And one I did not wage.

I’m here to do my duty,

     Then turn another page.


No stranger, then, to murder,

     But like a sin to me.

To take life from another,

     Not what I want to be.


In this keen internal strife,

     My mind cannot resolve.

The killer and compassion

     In acute torment revolve.


And so, I can’t get past the pain,

     The noise and solitude.

I see the masks of those I’ve slain,

     Feel guilt I can’t elude.


 

They visit me in briefest sleep.

     They do not go away.

Their anguished eyes stare back at me

     Through each tormented day.

Hal C Clark – November 11, 2010

Veterans Day

This is a tribute to the men and women who endanger their lives to fight in our wars. Some are killed, some have physical injuries, while others have psychological injuries not easily seen or evaluated. Trauma to the mind is just as debilitating as a physical injury, and to those brave men and women who suffer this kind of injury, I dedicate this poem.

Nutopia

Nutopia

 

I am an ambassador from Nutopia

And proudly fly our pure white flag

My heart often yearns to go home again

So in dreams I visit and dwell without fear.

But there are no roads to take me there,

There are no armies, no treasures anyone would want.

And we all get along and let all have a life.

Defenders collect aggressors who threaten their essence.

Why do so many hold in their hearts

Hatred and avarice, intemperance, greed?

My thanks to John* for inviting me there

To a homeland sans strife bringing peace to my soul.

So I dream of that day, of that glorious day

When I can go home.

Hal C Clark – Sept, 2010

*John Lennon

I don’t know how many John Lennon fans are in this group, but one thing he was dedicated to was peace. Nutopia was a mythical land of his imagination, and it is a place I would like to visit, if not live. I can never understand why people must hate each other but I feel it must be based on greed, selfishness, or insecurity. I feel sorry for people who do not have the capacity to love unconditionally, as God loves us. He loves us no matter what we do. In that, we can be truly thankful.


Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 32 other followers

Post Calendar

October 2022
M T W T F S S
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31  

Blog Categories

Archives