“Great news… my second book of poetry [political] is now on Amazon Kindle- just in time for the Fourth of July”©

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Test yourself on the Fourth of July, 2014, and find out which of the two birds you are closer to, the eagle or the ostrich, as they are depicted on the cover of my second book on Amazon Kindle. See below…

My second book on Amazon Kindle today

My second book on Amazon Kindle today


My first book on Kindle


My first book on Kindle

Please take a look at what the LORD has enabled me to do… a work dedicated to the glory of God, my first fruits to be His acclaim- I’m but a pen in His hand. It would please me to share some with you, something Amazon has not, see below…

Chapter 2… A Hand For Life, Life Lessons

“Hellos end stranger-ship”

There is no greater stranger to meet

than the stranger within ourselves,

will you punish yourself for not being

able to understand or forgive my life,

accept me for what I can, for what I

cannot you will never see to appreciate.

“Only the spirit knows”

When grace touches your shoulder

and you feel it to your toes,

who knows where the heights will lead

you when only the spirit knows,

when compassion crosses your brow

and you can feel the spirit move you,

you can believe you’d better listen

to the message that it gives you,

it’s when you feel hot flashes

and the feeling sort of grows,

who knows where the heights will lead

you when only the spirit knows,


“Only the spirit knows” cont.

when hope embraces your being

and your feet begin to dance,

is when the spirit has you

and you feel it’s your last chance,

when love sweeps through your body

and your face on fire shows,

who knows where the heights will lead

you when only the spirit knows.

“Share the caring feeling”

I have no power in these two hands,

but the power of love,

and when I raise these loving hands

the power reigns above,

and I know as I extend these hands

I’ll then begin to share,

and when I feel I’ve helped someone

is when I’ll feel care.


“To solve it… resolve it”

Would you fight me now, to

prove your manhood, only to

walk away after and not realize

the fight you faced was with

yourself; because, the reflection

in me you fought would be that

in your nature you didn’t approve of,

and sought blindly to solve it.

“In me”

The Cherokee in me

despises the white man,

the Irish in me

chokes on the English,

the English in me

restrains the Irish,

the Dutch in me

is very hard-headed,

the German in me

is willing for change,

the Scotch in me

has quite a sweet tooth,

the Jewish in me

cries at the wall,

the Christ in me

clears up all the confusion,

and beholds all of us

as children of God.


“A choice is made”

As another day dawns

on the choices life contains,

to eat from the banquet table

or simply scrap that remains,

the tug-of-war continues,

the tether frayed from the strains…

a choice is made to live on.

Every day a new beginning

and even it shall see an end,

we should be careful of our tongues

for the messages unmeant to send,

when lives by courtroom bench

will not be straight, but turn to bend,

a choice is made to live on.

When life’s door finally closes…

through death’s door we depart,

and those of us left behind

find again we need to start

to push past petty differences,

to seek the purpose of the heart…

a choice is made to live on.

“Catch it”

Anger is the minor infectious

feeling that mankind is bound by,

Love is the major feeling that

frees us all so infectiously.


“Time to think again”

When painful memories are

all we think about,

it’s time to think again

about all we’ve been thinking,

allowing new thoughts an opportunity

to rinse free the past.


To be young is to be over

Concerned with appearance;


To be wise is to be aware

Of the inner needs of people…

That appear quite evidently.

“Mirror image”

When a man,

with blinders on,

speaks of love

he sees only

what’s in front

of himself, and

not the horizon

that stretches beyond

man’s limited


of the flesh.


I would also like to show you the cover of my second book, a book of Political poetry, called,”Of eagles and ostriches,” and this is being worked on now for the Kindle format. Look below…

Here is a taste of what is in it, please enjoy…


Chapter 1… 9-11… Cornerstone of change

“Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God”

Thomas Jefferson

“First responders… forgotten Americans”


ground zero,

under attack,

we knew what to do…

called to war,

you just go…

you disregard the hell…

it went into the air…

the ground bubbled under our feet…

rescue workers with cuts in budget,

Public Health disaster,

Cristy Todd  Whitman,”the air is safe,”

turned down… mockery of freedom,

victims denied… benefits withheld,

we can still help each other…

Firefighters left behind,

gold recovered liberally,

debris shipped to china…

Presidential Seal on information,

9-11… some memory,

ten years later!


     See itunderstand it

           Have we not learned

       Democracy in the U.S.

       is a two headed bird…

       with one stomach.  

“The fallout… “

The fallout from Wall Street

is much worse than the memory

of the dust from 9-11…

equally gagging in capacity,

and this time clearly being

dog-piled by our own people…

and the grand old party deceived. 


“Make up for the mind”

If you make up your mind and

find you will not change, no

matter what is: heard, learned,

felt, discovered or warned about…

is when you might think the world is

flat or believe science can’t be helpful,

and you’ll feel you are right in

your assessments.

An old Spanish proverb says,

“A wise man changes his mind…

a fool never will.”


“The appearance of Democracy”

We have bought into the idea of

defending Democracy in Iraq…

this nonsense is like accepting

a ride hitchhiking, going down

the general direction agreed to…

and when the driver jumps out,

prior to going off the cliff, you’ll

finally realize you will just be

the body to be identified at the

scene of the crash, and blamed…

so the insurance claim can be



“Better to stumble on truth than from lies”

When we stumble on the truth a lie is exposed,

even when it has been sitting right under our nose,

to hack and hew at our heels… to stub our own toes,

surely once we discover this this truth we’ll disclose…

no, not really… we would then hug the lie in repose,

not even if we could shake the dust from our clothes,

the lie should feel as though it was our truth, we suppose…

such is the way of man… not God’s way as love grows-

love grows toward the light of truth and always shows

the stumbling lessons man needs… even by prose,

clothed in love, lies no longer linger in our eyes…

love is the truth leaving lies behind in surprise.


“And they called the wind… “

And they called the wind Al Qaida…

as if to control the breeze of fear,

a bridge of tears throughout the years

and the sighs of discontentment-

sheer resentment tailing the moans and groans.

The wind screams past the ears of those who

heard, shuddering, and scuttling the

dreams of freedom,

only the lingering memories

contain the refrain of patriotism-

the notes wielding the timber and vibrato

of emotions spent.

So sent by those who achieved the goal

that swallowed us whole,

and the days now longer than the days

in which the winds began.

I ran… you ran… we ran to quell the wind-

as though we could.

A Dr. Lovejoy experience, with a lasso we

roped the tornado and found

our tiger by the tail.

A turbaned whirling dervish of a devil,

dizzy from the chase,

exhausted by the thought of containing

beliefs and no relief in sight.

And they called the wind Al Qaida.


“Of wine and roses”

Why can’t we see our laws

turning against us…

evermore restrictive and

prone to fail our lot,

this is no time for glee

that we see coming…

just the price to be paid

for the good times as bought,

sold to us… bundled up so

cozy and rosy, if you will…

the thrill yet unrealized

by many of our own,

just like the ones caught

on the planes of doom,

to be entombed in a shrine

so divine as it was flown,

warmth our laws afforded

us… in the past,

not to last… not to last as

we soon will find,

gone are the days of wine

and roses… days gone by,

soon, from the changes, we will

march to… so unkind.


“Seduced by treasonous hands”

Rule by fear or stand by your laws…

the laws we have, having not been adhered to,

are then made a joke,

under this administration… they’ve thumbed

their nose at any history that inspired us…

integrity to revoke,

so how can we still deny this terrorism

has come from within… blamed on someone

allowed to do “the deed,”

NORAD hobbled by a drill… the drill to be

against terrorists flying planes into buildings,

9-11… follow our lead,

on that day… Cheney controlled NORAD, as

NORAD was told,”stand down,” doing nothing

ensured the planes to strike,

the planes, for the towers, had fuel that

could not burn hot enough to ever melt

steel… believe it if you like,

only slaves placidly do not question what

they are told, P.O.W.s always look for a

means to secure escape,

are you a slave (of your own beliefs) or

are you a patriot (P.O.W.), with a mind of

your own… a victor’s cape?

The questions will come from free thinking

men of freedom to make the choice of their

disbelief… seeing things secreted,

it is obvious to assume this when you hear,”it’s


“Seduced by treasonous hands” cont.

my way or the highway mentality,” so what are you 

hiding… thinking we’re retarded,

this world is not and has never been simply

black and white… absolutes are only used to

exert some control,

and if you have some control you’ll seek

more and more… until you have total control…

let this truth then console,

so will we allow this fear to relieve us of

our freedoms… denying our children of

freedom for slavery?

I know what you’d think by reading this… but

condemn or condone, the choice is yours, no

matter how unsavory.

“Political correctness is THOUGHT INDOCTRINATION”

Political correctness is akin to redistricting prior to

a vote, it: shifts the view of objects in sight, re-

designates the description of what is viewed and,

by the changes, expects to alter the outcome of

perception and change the reality of our under-

standing. What we get is a palmed off misunder-

standing, substituted as a reality… attempting to

be the truth as known before; but we end up with

one Iraqi defender slipper on the left foot and on

the right… a patriotic pretender.


A sampling of my third book,”When plucked are strings of the heart,” is found below…

Chapter two: Longings

“As me you are ( a part of me )”

     What I’d like is a woman who respects herself,

one that’s from within the common wealth…

the same as me.

What I need is a woman who keeps things clean,

one that’s still spicy… despite life a little lean…

the same as me.

What i’d thrive on is a woman who shares her joys,

one whose tired of being someone’s battered toys…

the same as me.

What I’d share with her would be my half to give,

with her love felt… for her half would I live…

the same as me.

          “Alone with an image”

Don’t you know you’re my movie star…

I’ve seen you on the silver screen

and know you’ll go far,

your smiling eyes were captured

by the light,

the screen was my mind…

my heart touched by your sight,


“Alone with an image” cont.

I sat transfixed as I watched,

all this is too true…

I realized all my feelings

were only for you,

and now what to do isn’t clear,

you were so close but never so near…

you remain on the screen, alas

such is my fear…

never truly there and always so dear.

“Coming up from getting down”

     When I get down in feeling

I think of you,

and the sun comes up

on a cloudy day,

the troubles melt away

for the nothingness they are,

from a real smile

given freely…

a dove of solace,

reminding me how important

your hand is… in return

I can only be thankful:

smile, care, listen, understand,

feel and share the very same thing

which you do…




I happened to meet a woman

who was as refreshing

as a summer breeze on

a shimmering August day.

I happened to be the one

she liked to talk to, to

open up with the conversation

of life’s experiences.

I happened to fall in

love with this special young

woman, a woman who denies

herself the gift of love.

I happened to see some of

the reasons that held her back,

some of the reasons she

hardened her heart so.

I happened to understand her

a little more, she felt,”if I

don’t love anyone anymore…

I won’t ever be hurt again.”

I happened to see, in my

own life, if you stop caring

about love… the people who

love you will stop caring.

I didn’t plan all this…

it just happened to start

on the day I met her…

and the her happened to be you!


“The tandem of our steps”

           As a man, I can safely say

you’re one woman that is

able to instantaneously







For, you see, you’re like a coach

with a stop-to-watch the race of

hearts… particularly yours.

Women are smart and they can see

whose running in a race with:

how fast the pace,

intended destination,

sincerity and heart,

openness and trust,

and on and on or bust.

Remember now… keep track on

all the runners, especially

this slow determined walker…

the man I am for your love.


“I thought you knew”

I never touched

your skin but…

I knew it was soft,

as soft as your

soft brown eyes,

those eyes that shined

of the softness within…

your gentle character

and the way you carried

yourself, so naturally-

so easy going,

you gave into your life

a touch of tenderness

and this you gave freely…

without even a thought,

your charm was lightly

graced by beauty-

a beauty that came from

the inside…

that couldn’t be hidden,

the you I saw was

the inner you…

working its way out,

if you could have… you’d

have understood me,

and the way I felt.

I never touched

your skin but…

I knew it was soft.


“If I was… “

If I was your hat…

you could wear me on your head,

then I could protect you…

no, no you’d never turn red,

if I was your scarf…

you could wear me on your neck,

then nobody would be able to see

if you’ve had a nibble or a peck,

if I was your jacket…

you could wear me on your back,

then you’d never be cold again…

so put the shirt back on the rack,

if I was your dress…

you could wear me off your shoulder,

then I’d be able to compliment you

even as you get prettier and older,

if I was your shoes…

you could wear me on your feet,

then when I’ve been doing my job,

providing comfort, I’d feel complete,18

“If I was… “ cont.

if I was your pants…

you could wear me on your bottom,

then I could protect you

from january on through to autumn,

it would be nice but

I’m not any one of these things,

I’m just a guy that happens

to care so much for you, to

the point that every moment

I’m away from you wears-on-me.

“If I was deaf”

If I was deaf… I’d hear your

voice within a crowded hall.

If I was blind… I’d see your

face wherever I’d go.

If I was crippled… and you called

for help, I would crawl to your aid.19

“If I was deaf” cont.

If I was poor… my riches would be

the moonlight in your eyes.

If I was rich… my poorest night would

be one without you in my arms.

If I was lonely… would you see me ache,

alone… caring only for yourself?

“She whispered”

For she whispered

with the ease of

her passing…


on sighs so wispy thin.

I thought I heard

some of her,

I wanted to…

maybe only what I wanted to…

maybe only what I needed to…

maybe only what I felt.

If this is so,

the feeling was truly

real with nothing

behind it

that I would experience

to feel the same again.


“She whispered”cont.

Her passing came

and left…

with me wondering

if she might, someday,

come again…

her name

was Moriah…

the wind.

“It’s not the same”

                If men say only what they

don’t mean… then women

will accept only what they

don’t want…

if I said, “I don’t care,” would

you then embrace me…

subjecting both of us to

the cruelties of happiness,

for if I continue to care and

see you walk to the arms of

another… you’ll accept what

I mean.


“Still water reflections”

    Here I sit on rocky shore…

to stare at seagulls forevermore,

to answer my questions of debate,

my love is gone… I can’t relate,

she came to me through morning mist-

by gentle sea breezes I now am kissed,

so soft… so strong, the emotions felt…

all I feel now is this new found guilt,

if it seemed like I was to fast…

she might have thought it could never last,

if only… if only she would have thought

to share her thoughts of what was sought,

what I sought was to hold her hand…

just to know the coals were fanned,

to feel a little closer still-

not to go and control her will

but… now barren shore I see…

the lapping waves and calm still sea,

I look back at my prints in the sand

and turn to look at an empty hand,

the pelican and I share our sorrow…

your time I enjoyed along my way,

my time I shared… longing you’d stay,

now… here I sit on rocky shore

to stare at seagulls forevermore.22

“This moment”

You do not want me in your life

at this moment… but

do you need me in your life at

this moment?

You may not see me in your life

at this moment… but,

did you know I see you in my dreams

from this moment?

You may feel that it’s not

possible at this moment… but

we can only share and feel

what should be the most important…

this moment… between the two of us.

“To be love”

No matter what corner you turn…

you’ll always be farther away,

because… it’s from the truth

you always seek to stray,

head strong and headlong-

if only your point of view,

you must strive to find

if for only you it’s true,

the street must flow twice

and never only one way,

when done for one’s gain

ever must one person pay…

the truth stands plain and clear-

ever strong and in the open,

that’s the way of love to be,

maybe you’ll see… I sure am hoping.


“What is an empty berth worth?”

        Sailing on love’s waters… I,

the tramp steamer,

pulled into port… guided by

shimmering starlight.

The port contained your

friendly eyes, eyes that

light the portholes of manly

ships… when allowed berthing.

The port remained changing,

constantly, from active ships…

with many hands to feel of.

In the commotion, I

was left for all

of eight and twenty suns, alone.

By the time I was thought of

again, my hull was shaken…

distended and up-ended.

My forehead wet with

your loving waters- my back

sides facing the surface.

You came as I shuddered,

tilted, and slipped below

your fluid love headed for

bay bottom, with depth

came pressure choking the bubbles

from my frame… escaping life,

was it real?

My broken keel is all I feel…

knowing no longer the portal lights.


“Worth waiting for”

I would rather wait now…

holding nothing,

to hold you in our tomorrow

than hold you today-

with nothing worth waiting

for to hold me in my future.