Do You Hear Him?

Tap, tap, tap

Do you hear him?

Do you see what he’s doing?

My child does not do that

He is disruptive

I can’t sit for you anymore

 

Tom, tom, tom

Do you hear him?

All through class

During recess

Even at lunch

He is expelled

 

Tap, tom, tap

Do you hear him?

See how he is different

He doesn’t take it seriously

Doesn’t toe-the-line

He’s out of the program

 

Tap, tom, tom

Do you hear him?

No concept of status quo

Alienates himself

He had his chance

He is fired

 

Tom, tom, tap

Do you hear him?

He’s got killer instinct

But he bucks authority

A bad example for the rest

He is discharged

 

Boom, boom, boom

Do you hear him?

Do you see what he’s doing?

He has his own voice

And speaks for his people

with the beat

of a different drummer

 

© JW Thomas

By the Numbers: to Love

A thousand miles of memories

have passed since our goodbyes

Hard to believe

it was yesterday

A hundred songs I’ve sung

poetic verse that stung

Lips wet to kiss

forbidden today

A score of sightings thought to be

you in periphery

Simple ghost tale

one haunted by love

A dozen days of purgatory

from town-to-town sans you

Eternal wind

born wild and free

A single door that separates

passion from pleasure

Treasures unfurled

turn key and open

 

Joy

Jubilation

Ecstacy

Euphoria

She never stopped waiting for you

 

© JW Thomas

Kamama (Butterfly) Unmasked

Whoever named you Kamama (Butterfly) Maiden obviously never took the time to know you. It is true, like Butterfly, your beauty defines the dawn. When light caresses your flaxen hair it sparkles like morning dew on the wispy threads of Spider’s web, freshly woven overnight. And when the first rays of Sun kiss your face the gleam in your eyes, sheen of your skin, and radiance of life can easily compare to Butterfly’s dazzling shimmer, fragile fairy-like wings, and dance of colors. But that is where the similarities cease.

Beautiful you are, but fragile you are not. You were born through natural childbirth while your mother squatted on the kitchen floor of a ramshackle shack that lacked the basic necessities of a narcissistic profit driven culture. I thought it fitting when your mother mentioned switching from traditional songs of birth to Steppenwolf’s “Born to be Wild” throughout the pushing phase. No women-kin arrived to assist till after the delivery when you lay bloody on your mother’s stomach, still joined by the uncut cord.

You are feminine but firm. A lifetime of hauling water home a half-mile twice daily helped with that. You also chopped, hauled, and stacked wood; caught and cleaned fish, and tended a garden during the fickle growing season.

Your character matches your body – feminine but firm – not flittery and fluttery and fragile like Butterfly. But not imposing just focused and filled with purpose. You are like Hawk; smaller than Eagle but equally regal, with farseeing vision and predatory skills honed to perfection. As a child you survived poverty. As a woman you conquered it, and help others on the same path. Seeing you sail through each day is like watching Hawk soar on thermals, uplifted, and graceful. And when your prey is spotted – your targeted purpose of the day – you speed forth swift and true.

You are not Kamama (Butterfly) Maiden, you are Lady Hawk… a Peregrine Princess.

Unconditional Love

(A sentiment for Easter)

 

“Love them like the Lord”

 

A question was asked in class today

About a father with a son who has gone astray

And a major conflict between two religions

 

The first one says, “Love your fellow man”

The son’s new belief says, “Put a gun in your hand

And shoot the innocent as if they’re clay pigeons”

 

Should we be afraid? Or should we take a stand?

 

We should love him like the Lord… God Almighty

Before he goes too far and picks up a gun

We should love him like the Lord… God Almighty

Our Lord never told us to judge anyone

We should love him like the Lord… God Almighty

And God has never forgotten the Prodigal Son

 

A question was asked in class today

About a daughter and a son who say they’re gay

And the parents that are shocked by their confession

 

The secular world says it’s just fine

What use to be wrong is now completely sublime

But they ignite outrage where there should be discretion

 

Should we be afraid? O should we take a stand?

 

We should love them like the Lord… God Almighty

Before anyone crazy thinks to pick up a gun

We should love them like the Lord… God Almighty

Our Lord never told us to judge anyone

We should love them like the Lord… God Almighty

And God has never forgotten the Prodigal Son

 

A question was asked in class today

‘Bout a whore at the door in the family way

And whether we should allow her to enter in

 

Just because the world sees a lost cause

Does not give us permission to judge all her flaws

Especially when none of us is without sin

 

Should we be afraid? Or should we take a stand?

 

We should love her like the Lord… God Almighty

Before anyone crazy thinks to pick up a gun

We should love her like the Lord… God Almighty

Our Lord never told us to judge anyone

We should love her like the Lord… God Almighty

And God has never forgotten the Prodigal Son

 

© JW Thomas

Easter Egg-ssistance

I remember when the house was full for each holiday, and Easter was no exception. And my late wife loved to create crafts for each holiday. But she had always hated decorating eggs, because she thought she was terrible at it, so she simply dyed them and that was that. Well, one year I decided to simply draw a few faces on the dyed eggs for the heck of it, and came up with the following:

Jerry's Easter eggs 04

Well, I didn’t think much of it after that, since I had merely done it out of boredom. But they apparently found a bit more interest in what I had done, and begged me to continue doing it when Easter came around again. And the following shows what I did the next year:

Jerry's Easter eggs 05

 

And I’m glad I did; because it was the last Easter I would spend with my wife, before she went to be with the Lord. It didn’t take that much time to do, and it’s a small memory, but a good one. And I’d like to remind those who have someone you love to always let them know. And don’t forget to go out of your way when you can, even on the little things. It’s how we treat each other that really matters in the end.

I wish you all a Happy Easter. And remember to love each other like the Lord loves us… unconditionally.

 

Great Drops of Blood

After the Last Supper, up to the Mount of Olives they went

He took Peter, James, and John with him; each one tired and spent

At this point His spirit was filled with anguish and despair

And so He told his disciples to stay awake with him there

 

He walked on a little ways, and then fell to His knees

Holding His hands outstretched, to His Father he asked “Please”

“Please, if it be possible, let this cup be taken away

But I will do whatever you wish, your will is the better way”

 

And He sweat great drops of blood; the same blood that cleanses me

Yes, He sweat great drops of blood; it’s the blood that sets us free

 

Stay awake! Stay awake! Can’t you even stay awake one hour?

Keep alert! And pray; or temptation will take you with power

For the spirit may be willing; but oh how the body is weak

 

He told this to Peter and the others after falling asleep

Then back He went to His place of prayer, in concentration deep

Once again to ask His Father, “Can the cup be taken away?”

And one more time the Earth did feel His blood as He knelt to pray

 

(refrain to chorus)

 

Well, all of you today have the same thing facing you

The Lord has told you to stay awake, so what are you going to do?      (chorus out)

 

© JW Thomas

Black River

Red Tail Hawk soars

over long black river,

river his ancestors

many moons past

never saw.

Salmon waters,

white-eye Deschutes,

still flow

not as free

not with abandon.

Endless flow of tears

constant hunger

yearning for lost

multitude of life

once in her depths – depleted.

Hawk’s heart is hers

wavering when necessary

when hunger screams

when he fears

little beaks fall silent.

Hawk wonders

why Earth Mother

allow black river

indifferent

womb-less.

Barren

no depths

hard-hearted

traversed with peril

nothing sacred.

Hawk figures

Earth Mother know

Winter often stubborn

allow black river

so starving hawk-lings

survive on road kill.

© JW Thomas