Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Please pray for Michael Patrick he is sick:


This note I published on the nutcase blogger who posted all the craziness on my innocuous poem "Fallen Skies" below. For kicks/laughs check his sad ass out! I left what he said as an everlasting testimony to his overall poorness, I challenged him to do the same, if the lord can give him the courage. HA!
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Michael Patrick,

You are one very screwed up, judgmental, nutcase my friend. Your insanely bitter, hateful rants are so evil and off base they are comical. I left them on my blog; I want to see if you are man enough to reciprocate. I want everyone to see what you are. I could spend more time putting you down, but in my opinion your own words do so better than anything I could possibly invent. I turned on moderation on my comments just because you took up so much room; you really put some effort into it.

When I explain to people at times what is wrong with religion, and especially the Catholic Church, when I reiterate that the church ran Europe for a 1000 years and that time in human history is known as the Dark Ages, nothing explains that quicker than you. There is no one I can think of to drive more people away, more quickly, from the loving teachings of Jesus Christ than you, Michael. I have read the bible quite thoroughly, and to me Christ represents love and understanding, kindness and peace, you represent the opposite. You are not the anti-Christ because you just are not smart enough to wear that mantle; you are just a self-important, tiny, bully is all.

Amazing my poems are reaching clear to Australia and eliciting such passion, thanks. Ed

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Fallen Skies


Fallen skies, dream me gray
My lord, my soul to pray
Fall leaves, straining sunbeams, holding fast
Honeymoon moments, seeming too good to last

Woodsmoke, football and graveyard’s bounce
Windswept darkness, character building drills
Holiday specials, prettily poised to pounce
Summer she long gone, no hot weather thrills

Seasons change for their reason
Enveloping fog as cold dead breath
Hard headed shorts wearing heathen
We rhyme away time for winter’s death

All hail the stinging hail!
Swirling leaves with lightning pepper
The morning dog walk would try a leper
Remember us spring and do not fail!

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

In the Pink


Pulling the feeder with dogged determination
Deliberately wrenching wretched restraints
Tail a headless sweeping serpent

Head aloft sampling the wondrous wafts of wind
Of dogshit, shine-ola and stagnant sleeping souls
Wise-eyed quivering with nasal anticipation

Teeth to sharpen, splintering furniture wood and bone
Running crazy circuits, with muscles to hone
Waiting watchfully for the excess success

Monitoring miniscule mice-like movements
Day dreaming with canine cunning
Of squeaks, sirens and stars shinning silently

Brown-eyed-baby lusting for snacks
Glass reflections strangely startle
Boastful barking black, hair raised attacks

Hark! Jingling jangling keys of free!
Bark! Bouncing of the beckoning bye-bye
Wriggling, peeing thrills to be!!