ORANGE-COLORED CARVED FACES

Source: ORANGE-COLORED CARVED FACES

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ORANGE-COLORED CARVED FACES

Offices and private homes had

amply been supplied—there were

enticing holiday goodies for all,

most difficult to deny. 

 

Orange-colored, carved faces

were seen in most places, and

grocery stores on every corner

stocked sweet treats by the cases.


In addition, popular decor included

glowing, stringy spider webs and witches

with pointy black hats. They stirred

pot-bellied recipes of great flying bats.

With their painted on toothless smiles,

one could tell they knew—

which black-magic worked best for

which evil brew.

 

These yearly rituals—familiar to most,

and considered to be

all in fun, now spawn only

melancholy thoughts of you.


For it was around this time last year

that evil was allowed to be unleashed to

release a murderous demon of death and

despair.  Regretfully, once its assignment 

had been completed you disappeared

into thin air.

Now shall I forever hate to see

bright, orange-colored carved faces,

and the once-a-year

commonly displayed chocolatey,

sweet, treat-filled cases

When Grief Enters In

The waves of flowing tears to be cried simply seem uncountable. Un-doubtable, are the numerous ways in which we find to ask,“Why”–a question that, though we may try, remains unanswered for our cores inconsolable.

One’s heart takes a sigh with dry and uncontrolled heaves while hollowed out eyes will choose to relieve, no longer. The burden so heavy, the eyes can no more cry. This is pure grief! Moreover, everyone suffers when a loved one dies.

But, there are those who feel that certain killings are no big deal cause we play the game called: “Tit for Tat.” But, when that precious one is made to die (whether white or black), emotions rise, and their families are called to lack.

Regardless of our past, or pains of yesterday, we have no right to strike to purposely put out someone’s life. And, to those who choose to make slight during times when devastation is wrought, just wait a while—See how it feels when your loved one is somehow caught.

The enormous amount of unjustified and uncaring remarks we read and hear clearly are not well thought out, nor could they be considered as smart. Why would we choose to add depraved insults and further damage to an already poor and sickened Heart?

Created so that we each bleed red, when grief enters in, ample time must be given to mend. I know this as a fact because it was just a short while ago when my only son was called out to succumb. Unfortunately, my boy was killed by the pop of an evil man’s gun.

Yesterday it was a cop who, much too quickly, lost his life. He too was someone’s son. And they say he had a wife. At the end of the day, one truth remains. Whether cop or not, as human beings in this race, we cannot escape.

Misery comes to each and circumstances, in this debate, should call to all to share in pain. For in times of sorrow we are to bear. But, perhaps one day we’ll finally see. When grief enters in, we all fit with-in the same sad skin.

My Angel

Are you my angel?  Are you sitting

in His arms looking down at me?

Do you see me when I smile? Are you

by now completely worry free?

How did you so quickly make your

move into His presence?  Was there a

struggle as you entered into His

very sweet essence?

We’re you surprised to finally realize

that earth’s work for you had so

suddenly all been satisfied?

People tell me every day that I

must soon let you go your way.

Sometimes I try to let you go—but,

Lord knows the surrender is such a

tough road to tow.

Then on those days when once again,

your dad explains those things to me,

I find a moment of sweet peace while

thoughts of love come to abide in all clarity.

And, in my mind’s eye I can see that you surely

must look down, but bear no frown for me.

For you, my Angel and your brilliant smile remain

steady and unapologetically in the daily reflections

of silly old me.

It Matters

People say they’re ready for something new.  But, actually they just want more of the same.  Just dress up the same idea in a brand new suit.  The things we say and do, it matters!

Why We Kill and Hate

Hey, what’s in the weed these days,
and who spiked the punch?
Is it the “red” dye in our
Kool-Aid drink that makes us
hate everyone else so much?

What makes a young man kill his own
brother–shoot him down in the street—no
concern for his family, or of a broken
mother’s heartbeat?

What happened to a people who years
before together worked and played
when positive were the goals which,
back in the day, called us all to behave?

Down through the generations, things for us,
somehow changed. But looking back, our
newly adopted attitudes have groomed
many a short grave.

Instead of striving for change, we hurry
on the way to medicate our pain. But, what’s
in the weed these days? Does it simply serve
to numb our brains?

How did we get to this lost place of deceit?
Is there no way to find a return for sweet relief?
What if we took the time to find a more
sober way of life? Are we too drawn to this
never-ending strife?

Though we have all liberties, we choose to repeat.
Perhaps there’s something in the weed
holding us within
it’s vicious cycle
of apathy, guilt and sin.

The Day The Lord Has Made

What I want to do today is to stay in my house, lay down in the comfort of my bed, allowing heavy and warm covers to sustain and surround about my heart, and my aching head.

But, my desire is short lived–actually it’s naturally cut off for the load that always seems to lay ahead. It must be called responsibility! Instead, I see, my chores still wait and then come by to court, and call again on me.

I guess, if left up to me in light of the way in which I now feel, my eyes would close to sleep so that no longer would I have to ponder the meaning of this seemingly trite life, or to be moved to think about my cares—worries so deep.

I’d be sure to not let even one dream enter in, to penetrate my space. But, rather, would keep a low profile in my newly built world where never, ever would we haste.

Though we’re told it’s good to have hope in our lives, this same idea seems to be current society’s engineered platitude–which, I have noticed, can simply be an exhausting ride.

With my eyes, I look in my mirror. On the outside, I believe I appear just fine. But, in this process I remain unsure–most importantly so, in the most inner parts of the mind.

Yet, today is the day that the Lord has made. Therefore, To my surprise, a bundle for me has been gathered together just for this morning’s rise. It’s the perfect size sent by the Lord and kept on call for my pick-up from yesterday’s hoard. I guess today really is the Day of the Lord!