By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | A bit more on tribute poetry, |
They say the world is better now, trips and schemes that turn the crowd
I just laugh out loud, cause its better that way
I seen my dreams go up in smoke
Watched and held hope
Never let faith slip not even one day
Truth in dreams
Nightmare screams
We passed this way before
Camera snaps
More circumstance
I run like before
It is okay to feel
Death is real
It happens every day
So cut and run
Life is fun
It takes the pain away
She sleeps in bed
Pillow covered head
I learn to smile that way
Trust and rust
We still play
In dreams we make
Around the room
Chasing doom
Kisses on her lips play
We still dance in romance
Hearts as young
As sun beam dumps
Crispy creams
And cloths cast array
Piles in yester day
There is one thing
We live out fun
Someday we will escape
As for now clouds and doubts
Just travel on their merry way
I have learned the game
Forgotten many names
But she says it is okay
I love her more each day
As the road fades in shades of sunset on the mend
I laugh as before see the old trapdoor coming down
It is the new and starts the cue of coming once again
Author Notes
Thanks MSPotter, how is this measure up to....
I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all
Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way......
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | As life expectancy continues to increase so dementia and alzheimers |
In the window of a old
home
I
stood lost in sorrow there
I was the reason
they are
living in despair
Inside
by a fire burning bright
I
saw the love of my life my woman my wife
She was holding onto a
picture frame
I heard her softly call my
name
Lord why
is it to be a fresh new day
Why must you take me a way
I just cannot go in this
state
Tears they lay on the last page
Death
should bring anger and rage
not tears and lonely pain
Who made these rules of memory
lost
Can they be changed
Damn I
hate to see them cry
What
is the answer here
I know they should move on
Remember the
good I've done
Just
because I sit in that chair
Out
the window I stare
I see nothing not even air
Why do you
keep me here
Let
them put me in the ground
It would be better if I were not around
To remind of them of
who I was
Help me help those I love
By Walter L. Jones
Shall we mark addiction
Words upon a wall
Letters measured
At least ten feet tall
Reach out to a million seekers
Touch upon the souls
Spend my moments
Earning just enough
gold
Need to overdose pride
Need to get them stars
Need to write makes me alive
Need to hear voices remind me
Got myself a window to the corners of the world
Got myself a thrill at least a dozen cyber girls
Got myself a lover a million miles away
Got myself a song that I always play
In a room with shadows dancing on a wall
In a heart of lonely I still recall
In a passion left to dream
In a moment of truth
I still scream
Boss wonders what I do with all my time
Does not understand need to write and read between each line
Got me a poison left in solace clear
Holding on to something it is just not clear
Picked me a clover and a shamrock too
Added a banner and saw a bit of truth
Called me a pop up in rating fair and sweet
Left a blue ribbon hazing on her street
She is one of my many partners
in a crime so common now
We make love in the alley ways of electrons
In the back seats of stars (red ones)
Love is never very far
Only in the images seen
as the last of keys
hit the cyber screen
| Author Notes | Two is enough... but fun is just around the corner from truth |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | When I wrote this poem I was thinking about all the changes and expectations in life, how we pass from one to the next |
Passion drips past her pain
Ghosts of lovers call her name
Body of gifts lay packages unopened
Doors closed to the view she whimpers
Love has come in self-exposed daydreams
Hearts of time leave here in anguish screaming
Last of sight is the world taking apiece of her to give
On Sunday lord in the open air
With my heart lost in care
Day filled to the full
Already planned loving soul
I hold my child
See her mother's
tears
In the past I have seen her face in hers
Of deceiving we all know the truth
We trod forth covering old earth
Golden dream world of expectations laid
Of faith left on an altar price is paid
Hope seeing past the morning sun
Only a place of truth in the birth of another one
To lay as open as we may on the places that we stayed
Our heads bowed low for all eh mistakes we have made
Caught all in the traps we call life
Of cupids thoughts we plod on
Arrows in comfort accepted and held
Stacked them neatly
In our
Beds
Larger than life I walk the river and pull the drowning sound
Take my daughter from the giver of wonder and beauty all around
Pass the wedge of knowledge never a circle place to be all escape
Marker of her age uses her talents well saves a broken body and mind from a new hell
Eyes filled with sorrow heart it is warm not cold we live our life stages that is how we manage to grow old
| Author Notes |
A special thanks to mspotter27, for reminding me of the baby boomers.
Expectations are never quite what they seem, from early biblical days to now, cultures move grow and shrink back, what was once a good girl is now a naive person, what was once terror is now a learning experience, what was once daddy's girl is full fledged business woman ready to do what ever it takes to get ahead. Still in the end. All face mortality. |
By Walter L. Jones
Kiss the book open and look
| Author Notes | To play on thoughts in this poem, ancients believed the devil had a black box where he captured and kept souls, so they never could cross the river of death into heaven or hell, To kiss the book is of course the practice of many religions before opening the bible, In older times the black box was the resting place of eternity, the book was life, and in European cultures the hope chest of a old maid was her black box, another is from Greek mythology dealing with crossing the river of dead with out being married, no one to claim your soul, in that case a black book would have solved your problems, at least today... I do not usually do this but once in a while I guess it is ok to share my thoughts and intent.. Walt |
By Walter L. Jones
Grandpa's Chair (Thoughts On A Summers Day)
There is a hollow spot inside of me
A burning desire to quench the fire
Of a time that is yet to be
This rumbling sound flows on down
To the sport I claim is free
Yet when all is said and done, I have won
Clickity clack don't you look back
For the world is your oyster
Do you believe
Voids roam across the throne
Of the kings that would not see
Puddles in the sky clouds do cry
Is there a spot for me
Fill her up Joe
One more I'll have one more to go
It is children playing
Now where did they get off to
There is crackle in my bones
Something missing inside
I want it to hide
The foolish thing called pride
Still I am not quite whole
People looking in
Into my fish bowl
Years to late
See the gold upon the plate
I know you want to go
I hold you by the hand
You are not less a man
Each of us is allowed to cry
There is hollow inside
A piece of me diedI am not sure what it was
| Author Notes | As my mother's father and his before there is a tradition in our family to pass down our view of the world, from Grandpa's chair. |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | I wrote these lyrics for a friend of my son |
The world is alive with happiness and grace
But I, the woman, don't live in satin and lace
Pick up your bottle, down the last drop
Two or three pills, you're off to shop
Down to the valley where all is right
Make the moves to a warm bed tonight
The world is alive with happiness and grace
But I, the woman, don't live in satin and lace
I'll sleep in the morning in some young man's bed
I'll take his ambition and leave him for dead
It is a glorious horse that I ride
All that it costs me is youth & pride
The world is alive with happiness and grace
But I, the woman, don't live in satin and lace
I stop at the window and watch rain
The baby kicks and brings on pain
Love is the window in which I live
Breath is the last thing I have to give
The world is alive with happiness and grace
And I the woman, no longer need satin and lace.
By Walter L. Jones
You try to tell me there is sunshine
In the valley I see rain
You try to tell me that I love you
I see only your pain
Why do you dream out loud, dear
Why can't you let me be
Why must your memory haunt me
Just how cruel can you be
Should have walked away sooner
Don't know why I stayed
Think it must of been the weather
Guess I've always loved the rain
Standing at the window asking why I go
I 've tried to tell you
Still you don't want to know
Tears don't become you
Love burns inside your mind
Like a self inflicting flame
Fueled by your foolish pride
Still something in me died
I can't seem to take the first step
No matter how hard I tried
Music rains down on me
Wish I could walk away
Something inside haunts me
I am going to stay
By Walter L. Jones
Burden of truth is the answers given to a questioning child
I have been a wander
as land I due lay
seeds of mourning
for those who pass
my way
What gift have you given back to He owner of the palace
In the silent window
feel my tears upon the grain
taste the bitter chemicals
as they fall with rain
From dry and try and blend again a new seed grows
Wonder of the ages
takes his case to God
answer is given as he's
laid beneath the sod
Trash and flash a dirty sky and flames make the world cry
Wailing dreamer
lost beneath try
crawls to heaven
rest must live the lie
Each a victim to his own mis-use Child the Earth it dies
By Walter L. Jones
When life is tattered
doors open wide
see the funny man
still sitting in inside
Soldier makes the call
strong of conviction
his gun speaks
for us all
Funny man lies on the ground
kicked by all in the little town
his cat and dog
they drown in his well
When death is over
see sign upon the door
just a simple message
funny doesn't live no more
Soldier found hanging from a tree
note pinned to his shirt for
all the town folk to see
it takes more than a gun
to kill me
Funny little man
By Walter L. Jones
A voice breaks the silence
Soft pounding echoes in my ears
It is the sound of my heart
Letting loose my secret fears
The shadows of a crying rage
Still find inside of me
Butterflies of youth
Screaming to be free
A sudden touch of velvet
Like an angel's kiss in flight
Precludes the calm
Making everything right
Today I hold a goddess
Lost in dreams of yesterday
With night my only witness
I let the moment slip away
Walk tall in virtue
Cry softly to the wind
Remembering days of glory
Sometimes no one wins
By Walter L. Jones
I hear the sound in the wind
It is the love lost to sin
Her arms hold him tight
While his wife cries this night
It leaves the soul run cold
The love that is bought and sold
A drink or two makes it all right
Neon sign burns to morning light
I hear the sound in the wind
It is where life begins
Only man never wins
When passion is the sin
The love is precious sent
Worth every dollar spent
Sound of beating hearts
That is how it starts
I hear the sound in the wind
Crying children born again
No answer to the claim
He or she who was the blame
Rough hands tend the task
Children afraid to ask
Daddy holds another?s flame
Mommys taking the midnight train
I hear the sound in the wind
It is the crying of little children
By Walter L. Jones
When I see you
Feel everything again
Like the window of a daydream
Playing songs in the rain
Love is my partner
Shadows still remain
In the mist of morning
Softly she calls my name
If I hear you in the twilight
See your face upon the pane
Then I know you have been here
Playing songs in the rain
Hear my heart beating
Soft and sweet is the sound
Like rays of sunshine
Rainbows floating down
Arms wrapped tightly around you
old memories still remain
when I was your lover
playing songs in the rain
Angel?s kisses fall upon my lips
memories captured in living
world is silent and still
she her love to me is still giving
As the days pass to years
the beauty is the same
feeling you near beside me
playing songs in the rain
By Walter L. Jones
When rain falls
on a child
a smile appears
in that moment
an adult sees a tear
The calling voice of age
does not let us be
in this a simple act
all our fears we see
Quickly, I hurry
down the hall
I heard my child call
but my child's
been dead nearly
twenty years
still that voice, I hear
Oh lord in silence of heaven above
could you please let me send love
let me answer the call of my child
I promise not to be long
I will not interrupt her
heavenly song
I just want
her to know
I am here
waiting for
that little smile
a bit of rain
and a tear
I would let her out in the snow
Lord, I just want to hold her tight
once more, I promise not to be long
a moment, not the night
Down the hall you
call my name
your voice, telling me,
about the rain
a smile and tear
Arms round my neck
kiss upon my cheek
peace in my heart
Finally, tear laden sleep
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | There is more than meets the eye if you look hard. |
Stormy, stormy night,
wind and hail,
candlelight,
burns holes inside my soul.
Laughing in the wind,
what is the mood that
you are in,
taking all their gold.
Stormy, stormy night,
fishing for,
what I think is right.
Children bought and sold.
Bone chilling grin,
it's your fault,
they win,
eating only mold (cheese).
Stormy, stormy night,
wish I could forget
the fight;
cards are bad, I fold.
If you knew the tale,
would you share
in the sale?
How could you be so bold?
Stormy, stormy night,
the noose fits
way too tight;
cards are pat, I hold.
Within the time left,
I your sorrow,
will address.
God, I am cold.
Stormy, stormy night,
bills counted out the
numbers checked out right,
my last smoke is rolled.
Rope loosened this time.
Life goes on,
I am just fine.
Who knows I may even get old!
By Walter L. Jones
Teardrops run down a dirty face
Years of fighting
Pain replaced
Food belly full
Life takes
Another toll
Dance across the stage
Hide anger
Control rage
Runny nose
Hand held out
Hold the pose
Camera click
Story told
This is sick
Nightmare on the little screen
Life better
Not seen
Sympathy life?s gain
One is saved
Thousands remain
One step taken
But not
For man
Teardrops run down a dirty face
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | For My Wife |
Today
the soft glow of love fills me to the brim
Into the world of love it is only you I see
dreaming
Silhouettes shine from starlight filling heavens
above
Even the archangels sing about our elegant earthly
love.
So loving the sound, melody of angelic song, I am
lost in you
Love from my heart over flows to yours, returns twice
as strong
A continuing motion in time and space wandering
seeking your heart
It is the joining, two beings becoming as one, in a
joyous bond
The glue of youth lost in time, bonds us to that of
eternal age
Our children now grown have moved on; we set another
page
In the glow of your silver radiance I see, all your
love in me
One look, one touch, one smile, the thorn and the
rose
In the garden grows strong our love, fertile is our
soil
Hand in hand reaching for heavens stars
By Walter L. Jones
Tiny footsteps on the stairs, hussling of wind and air, heard the music playing in my head. Saw a window story read, if you find you don't care, let the world be your stare.
Saw the music on the wall. Heard the widow down the hall; sings to her child a soft lullaby. Soldier boy why did he die? Saved his friend from a firing hell. Still I hear them in the wind.
Child sings a lonely song; her dolly sings along, tells the world of a life alone. Walks her dog to an empty home. No one calls on the phone, mommy works the late shift.
Door is locked inside out. Latch is thrown like hearts about, footsteps on a cold floor. Mothers voice comforts the soul; listening children from a story told. You can hear the wind in the trees.
Sad picture will not let me be; it is the voice of a raging sea, love it abounds in the child. See the picture in her room. Prays her daddy will be home soon, the smile is so real.
Sunday morning music sweet; outside of church in the street, footsteps three abreast. Sound of love fill the air; children playing everywhere, sunshine.
By Walter L. Jones
Words of love linger in the evening
Soft as all the rain that falls down
Feel the pain of the sadness
Johnny took his guns to town
In the hours before the leaving
Mother held him close to her breast
No begging or pleading could
Keep her Johnny from his quest
Johnny's wife forced into servitude
Sheriff met Johnny at the door
Shotgun leveled right at him
Johnny lay upon the floor
Sheriff, blood splattered, leaves "asmiling"
A hand lifts a gun from the floor
Only sound, the one loud bark
Sheriff dead, falls by the door
Words of love linger in the evening
Soft as all the rain that falls down
Mary still holds the sheriff?s shotgun
Husband put into the ground
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | This song is about the aging lover who continues to come back to old reliable, who just can't say no. |
Words they float across the pages
Taking me to your soul
I think that love it ages
But your heart never grows old
Tasting your lips is most like heaven
Feeling your body close to mine
Slipping into forever
I will hold you, forever in my mind
Rivers of satin come between us
Should it be that life is just a line
I do not feel losses
I just love you one more time
In the happy moments
I feel your kisses on my cheek
In the time of passion
it is your heart I seek
Worldly items come before you
Diamonds and houses on a hill
But never dies the passion
That in your kisses I feel
Words they float across the pages
Like the day in morning sun
Take the window seat, dear
We got us a shotgun run
Tasting your lips of honey
Body hot, as day is long
When you?re in it for the money
Love is just another song
Rivers of satin calm you
Sweet is the scent of love
Caught forever in the moment
Cooing like the young dove
In the happy moments
Wanting nothing but warm sun
I will hold your soul forever
Kiss your lips only for fun
Worldly items hold no meaning
Life stops at your closed door
Passion is found in the clothes
Left Laying on your floor
Words they float across the pages
Your kisses fill my mind
But If you 're really going
Please stay gone this time
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | If all we do is live, we miss life. The poem is about meeting expectations of form and putting the correct word in the correct place with the correct sound, while the creativity of the words pass |
Is it the day
or window play
words get in the way
of rain falling down
Out there on the lawn
see a doe and a fawn
life's opening dawn
natures morning song
Still children want to play
with all their might
they holding dreams tight
wish adults would go away
Be me still with words
like sunshine rainbows are heard
sunbeams guide the bird
to rest upon a cows turd
Finaly he is warm
free from storm
a new fly is born
feasting on corn
What a day
many games to play
kept tight dreams of yesterday
old piper finally payed
Read the story true
for all are just like you
a thought in morning dew
Good past from old to new
Where do the secrets lay
last to pray
granted peace today
served upon a silver tray
Time marches on and on
| Author Notes | Age and repetition often hide value of a work, to meet some language or communication skills, ie tripping over words. |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | A special thanks to Marillion, for getting me off center. |
Until the door
opened wide, showing me with silly pride.
I thought I'd seen the last of
your hide.
Left you at the bus stop,
It has been more than a year ago
You taught me how to feel,
I was glad that you had gone.
Your
lips of fire on mine belong in a song...
God it' s been such a long time, so
easy for you to bend my mind.
Time was when I knew your
name.
Love burning hot in a different time frame.
Passion held control of my every thought.
How can this be so overwhelming
again?
Your arms are likened to a vise.
They caress as they entice
never letting go.
Hours spent in your embrace time has been erased.
You
said these were my lessons learned.
I cannot believe how easily you let
me melt
As if you never really left me this
shell.
At a touch of your hand and I am mister putty man.
No control and again
I am a part of you.
Sharing all your thoughts
A part of you I wish I
had forgot
Still you own every bit of my heart
I could only belong to
you.
One kiss leads me on to another world.
I hold on to the dream as
passion unfurls.
Lips softly pass over every part of me and
Once again I am
entirely gone.
Satisfied, you are done, trying a smile.
As you
leave, I neither feel, nor grieve.
You bring out the very best I
am.
Your puppet on a
string.
By Walter L. Jones
The shadow falls
In one I see all
It is the last call
I am going home
Questions on a rainy day
Silver birds at play
Words just get in the way
I thought I heard a phone
Dad and I play ball
Wonder of it all
I wish he could call
Sherry handed me a stone
Bible in hand
A golden wedding band
All just drops of sand
Vixen chases her bone
Precious few words to say
I miss her everyday
Since she went away
Paul drops his ice cream cone
Time is planned
I leave for another land
Hour glass with out sand
Johnny is home alone
Preacher takes the fall
Talks to God for one and all
I pray for the phone call
Warden pulls the switch
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Every step into the unkown, leaves questions, every answer fit only some. Lonely is more that a word or state of mind. |
Lonely people live inside
Broken pieces in a broken mind
No love in the morning
No pain at night
Only daydreams
To hold me tight
Lonely people filled with pride
Slowly dying see inside
No words are forming
No morning light
Only moon beams
Bring a deadly night
Lonely people crying inside
Broken pieces no place to hide
No more tears in the morning
No more train to ride
Only screaming demons
Trapped in my mind
Lonely people silly pride
Trapped feelings deep inside
I walk in shadows
I drink and fight
Straps restrain me
Until morning light
Lonely people trapped inside
Last of feeling finally died
| Author Notes | When you have lived long enough, even you will be lonely even in a croud. |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Death a difficult subject but one that has followed man since the beginning of time. |
When angels touch my forehead
I will be asked to leave
I will find you in the twilight
Hidden in the evergreen
Life it is forever
Knowing all my dreams
You are the angel
Keeping track of me
Worldly items lay before you
Crowns of thorns and gold
You cannot be bought
You will never grow old
Pages from a prayer book
I hold close to my heart
Silver nails pierce my soul
In time honored seas will part
Old skins reeds without folds
Lay next to broken tablets of stone
Words of tongues of fire a ghost
Lead me to you via this host
By Walter L. Jones
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Born of wind and fire
Somewhere the desire
To allow a tree to grow
In a fleeting thought
I feel the burning heat
See children crying in the street
Just what is that they know
A little love is bought
Can you tell me the wonder of it all
Trees lined to grow almost tall
Wheat someone needs to sow
Life memories sought
All the children grow old
Knowing to well the story told
Hunger comes where did it go
Some battles will be fought
Dreams they are what make us go
Unlike rivers from the melting snow
Pain finding the seam scars do show
Falling stars are never caught
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | From past to present, adventure yields only a few rewards, still we look for the quick buck, often finding it costs body and soul to obtain, just survival! |
Pictures gleam in faded light
Soft calls the ladies of the night
Painted dreams in candle light
Body tense from labor laid
Sleep creeps my mind evades
Scented memories take flight
Valley town from miner?s cave
Little gold to spend, rest to save
Purchase loved tonight
Dust and smoke of drinking bell
Lust and need a money hell
Body full what a sight
Muscle ache stretched to burn
Each a new lesson learned
Feel this morning bright
Sick of life in these hills
Tired of the wind and chill
Elements left still to fight
Two more years I will go
Leave behind the ice and snow
Pouch of gold makes it right
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Chasing the memory can cause pain and regret, still what once was shall be again. |
Windows break, into rage, words are lost, to another page, life is a bitter wind, sounds of which are like sin, the taste of love never gives in,
at least not today.
When the rainbows, of another day, fall in place, across a golden sky, only the Gods, could ever ask why, mortals for love pray,
both night and day
To give of one, in heat of night, body warm, to the candlelight, softly peace is found, in the sound, of noises, of love all around,
I just don't feel that way.
Binding up, of the wound, is the playing, of her tune, hear the voice, of life, only the children cry,
when they can not play.
The day is gone, the months come slow, the memories, like the years, over life continue to grow,
the scene turns to gray.
Passion breaks, in rage, loss is the torn page, life moves, to the next, in line, death is now, only a matter left to time,
they all say.
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Time and time again we look for the quick buck often only finding survival. |
Pictures gleam in faded light
Soft calls the ladies of the night
Painted dreams in candle light
Body tense from labor laid
Sleep creeps my mind evades
Scented memories take flight
Valley town from miner?s cave
Little gold to spend, rest to save
Purchase loved tonight
Dust and smoke of drinking bell
Lust and need a money hell
Body full what a sight
Muscle ache stretched to burn
Each a new lesson learned
Feel this morning bright
Sick of life in these hills
Tired of the wind and chill
Elements left still to fight
Two more years I will go
Leave behind the ice and snow
Pouch of gold makes it right
By Walter L. Jones
I heard a voice
turned my head
I thought that
you were dead
Your smile
lightened up heart
how, why, can't be
you old fart
I thought
this can't be
there must be
something wrong with
me
Then I saw
your laughing eyes
the good you have never dies
I blinked
Your image was gone
but in my mind
I hear your song
Life is just
a step away
you talked and laughed
with me today
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | History of man is strange. Just where do we fit? |
Water records the birth of
another life
inside this well of knowledge love resides
step across
another pyramid
see
that the king has died
Wander of the world
do you find
the snake
that is curled
Body laid upon the pyre
set to
enjoy
not escape the fire
Nomad of the land
takes the
Shepard
lay
him upon the sand
Dark is the might
feel the sin at
night
bodies left in morning light
Child of God
spares life
holds the rod
Water fills the well
What is the
price
What is the cell
Created man
was
not such
a big deal
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Love is where and when you find it. Sometimes it is a bridge from real to need. |
A thought crossed my mind
In an old part in time
I knew that I loved you
Clouds attempt to fill, my sky
As perfect as the day was
I knew you were from above
For this earth could not produce anything like you
Flowers in bloom, pedals fly
Sunshine lived in your eyes
The world had to begin with you
No question of what or when
No thought of quit or end
Does she love me, I sigh
I just was lost in you
Willows in the glen
Daisy for miles on end
I am so happy, I cry
Tears they come and go
And sadness each of us know
But the world was made for you
Night it ends, good bye
Images combine you are alive
Rain-washes the painting clean
a memory, a ghost, still at large
Mind lost, heart is in charge
By Walter L. Jones
In the quiet of a lonely
room
hear the sound of her life tune
sweetly it plays from the
night
to the
day
Count the rings upon the
vine
see the message written by time
such a lovely song in the
rhyme
Wonder upon the evening
moon
watch the light brighten her gloom
fingers move across soft
skin
Beauty melts the heart
within
passion falls to love giving in
cradle rocks at a frantic
pace
In the last of days all will
see
glory of soul calls the body weak
head bowed down love was
all they
seek
Find your words upon the
page
no one ever questions age
love has no name in
life
Each hand is held tight
comfort
holds the song
each of us move along
I hear the voice a soul to
keep
passion is now fast asleep
rest fills the heart and
mind
Peace
By Walter L. Jones
The narrow path I walk is covered in green
My ghost is standing still unseen
Take not my heart from the glen
All that I am will guard it till the end
Silently I see the world lay before me
The cannon blast is ringing the bell
Body is cold upon the merchant's shell
Five or more they scale the hanging vine
Boulders rumble down making them mine
Music plays, a march from olden days
Blood upon the water lives to see
A curse of words float down condemning me
I stand my ground flames shoot high
What is death at least one hundred cry
God?s heavy hand is laid upon my soul
Valley of the damned in smoke
Last of oak trees in the meadow choke
Smell of life a flickering flame
Nobody recalls which or who is to blame
In the wind at night people still speak my name
The narrow path is now a memory
Carcasses left scared in a cemetery
Strong and tall grows the oak tree
Steel cross is all that?s left of me
By Walter L. Jones
When the call of death echoes
Each door closed tight
Fear engulfs us in the dreary night
Shadows of demons
Play games inside our minds
That is the feeling for each
Child at bed time
Hear the steps their crying
Each creek a monsters sound
Every curtain around our neck is bound
The pounding of our hearts
Leave fear a open door
Mom and dad are both at the store
Lightening striking cross the sky
Thunder so loud it makes the trees cry
Under the covers we hide
Sister is laughing I don't care about pride
Brother Bill enters a mountain of a man
What's going on in here
Wrap my arms around him shuttering in fear
No laughter just a gentle pat
A warm smile underneath a big brim hat
I am safe
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | A perfect night gets lost to the reality of a not so perfect world. |
|
|
|
Wind and snow fall soft and slow |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Each has been given something, sometimes we loose a piece or two. |
I hear the sound of
life
Calling me in the
night
Will I ever see the
light
Tunnel vision love
I talk to the
dove
Hearing a voice
above
Strange words fit like a
glove
Hold fast I am on a
roll
Child hand in mine we
stroll
Old dreams die
slow
I thought she?d be the last to
go
A cool wind touches
me
A grate is my home you
see
A dumpster meal but its
free
Was so rich how can this
be
Rain falls in my
mind
I hold onto a better
time
I thought you would be
mine
The hill was just too high to
climb
Pretty pictures I
feel
In my mind I
kneel
Drugs feelings
steal
This will be my last
deal
I still hear
His tears wash my sin
By Walter L. Jones
In the valley of the sun,
hangman waits for the things they say I've done.
Down by the water edge,
I slit his throat and leave him for dead.
I am now an outlaw on the run.
Hiding in darkness and in sun.
Each will cry for mercy,
as I take their life.
I will use a pistol and a rusty old knife.
y
Blacker than coal is what I have left.
Riding in the morning with my good friend death.
See the dust a flying. Flames straight from hell.
I 'll take you with me. Your soul I will sell.
Faster than daylight is the hand on my gun. Most men swear.
I can beat the rising sun.
In the quiet of a lifetime, I grow old; the devil comes to claim my soul.
Took a step, into the dust of the street, pride and my maker I plan to meet.
A preacher with eyes, as cold as steel, comes to make my deal.
Lays three drops of water on my burning face; with a few words, my sins are erased.
Laid my gun upon the alter, placed my knife there too, heard an angel say,
"God forgives you" .
In the quiet of the morning, a rope pulls tight; I will be in heaven, this very night.
By Walter L. Jones
The taste of life
is inside of me
it sets my soul
on fire
Inside a moment
I explode
from all
the desire
The joy
the love
I feel
is like
a child' s
first dream
At one moment
I am so alive
the next
I want to
scream
Please don't stop,
don't let this
feeling end
Lost between
the two
worlds
of pleasure
burning everything
within
The quiet
comes
the passion
fades
only to
start
again and again
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Pleasure on demand |
They send us down the road to a living hell
A shallow place where life is a block cell
Windows made from the shadows of dreams
Cornerstone of hell daemon?s that scheme
Wandering around in shadows of the night
Girls tempting souls out of the drug life
Which is it to be a quick love of sorts
Or 100 dollars of coke for your nose to snort
Place your bets upon the throne
What is will never be borne
The race is on the white horse
In the sands of a desert course
Five and ten will get you high
The aftermath will make you cry
Silver slivers in the vein
A running open sore of pain
Blood boils hot upon a body cold
50 pays for the coke body is old
lips are dry as the night from which she came
still the please is as great as summer rain
Searing heat tears apart what left of my brain
the doctors say he?s gone quite insane
Powders gone now for at least a year
But the memory still brings ranting fear
Demons come for me every single day
Memories inside my head send away
Hands still shake and tremors start
Fond is the memory but safe is the heart
Take the gift that is given very carefully
For the price is something you do not see
It might be the essence of all you ever hold
More than likely it will be your eternal soul
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Image of self is often the difference between success and failure |
Slowly I find that all is well
It takes a piece of me to see
That the world is not a hell
The world is what I let it be
A combination of life blooming
My soul is truly free
The wonder of which I am
Is not dependent upon
Some other living man
Depression surrounds me
Cruel as it may seem
I can fix others bad dreams
Words I can add to page
In these thoughts I can erase
For a few moments a bit of hate
Man is man same at the core
We all fear the same open door
Death it haunts us every day
Pain and hunger turn our way
Heaven vs. a life in hell
We believe a story that they tell
Our children we want a better life
No man honors torture
No man seeks his daughter?s rape
Words of love flow from the pen
Be it in the flower
The river round the bend
Words of laughter slip from lips
Captured by a loving kiss
This I can give
This world is not hell
It is a blank page
We take, we give, and we laugh,
In and out of our cell
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Words I can add to page
In these thoughts I can erase
For a few moments a bit of hate
Words of love flow from the pen
Be it in the flower
The river round the bend
Words of laughter slip from lips
Captured by a loving kiss
This I can give
This world is not hell
It is a blank page
We take, we give, and we laugh.
By Walter L. Jones
Children screaming down the hall
See the teardrops watch them fall
Pick up the pillow she starts to bawl
You?re the reason I am here
Burning a lifetime in sin
Children are crying again
Saw you walk out the door
You?re the reason I am here
Body sweet and music soft
An evening love in the loft
Got to stop this mad refrain
You?re the reason I am here
Baby sitter she is just a kid
Tries to keep her big belly hid
Momma?s got a new boyfriend
You?re the reason I am here
Job offer it comes through
I am finally going to leaving you
It's not you, It is this life I blame
Wrong, you?re the reason I am "outta" here
By Walter L. Jones
Until the door opened
I saw the last of you
Left in the bus stop
Must have been a year or two
Teaching me how to feel
I thought you had gone
Your lips upon mine
Such a long time
When was it I knew your name
Was in a different time
I had a different mind
Whoa, overwhelming again
Your arms are like a vise
They caress and they entice
Hours spent kissing and holding you
You said these were lessons learned
I cannot believe how easily I melt
It is as if you never left
A touch of your hand, I am lost again
I lose all control
Sharing your thoughts
A part of you I lost
Still you own my heart
I belong to you
One kiss leads me on
I hold on to the dream
Lips softly caress me
I am once again too blind to see
Satisfied, you are done with me
As you leave, I neither feel, nor grieve
You bring out the best, I am
I will always be here waiting
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Every person can be chaught in this lie, protect your children. |
When self worth and value die
When tears fill lonely eyes
When tripping is your reply
Bury the lie
With love and body fresh
I take your heart and eat
All parts of mind and flesh
Sell your body to the street
I love it when you and I meet
I come in many forms
Dark of night hidden doors
Knock twice only once more
Every ounce of dignity
Now belongs to me
I' ve had lots like you
Even enjoyed a few
Poet, doctor, autocrat
I wear many hats
Still when all is done
I' ve killed everyone
I' ll take your daughter
Love her well then
Seconds after the high
Send her to a living hell
Your son I' ve had him too
I have been this close to you
Close the door stop the lie
Catch them before they try
Remember I am always there
In the closet down the stair
On the street selling wares
In the park, in the square
Do you care?
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | The wonder of living is change, and change opens many closed doors. |
Three of us
went walking through
the shadows of my mind
Two were good friends
the third my life sign
Corridors are narrow
and the path a maze
two of us just stop
in awe of this place
My life sign
he just pushes on
for him there is no narrow
just the open rung
Windows locked and shuttered
doors all closed tight
two us were willing
and still there is a fight
A kiss upon my forehead
a squeeze of my hand
a smile even a child
could understand
?
My path is never set
I'll change my ways
Three of us
went walking
in the shadows
of my mind
only one returned
it was my life sign
My god, the bottle,
lay broken in the street
my life had passed before me
and died at my feet
Today I stand-alone
no crutches, need I
For now
I walk alone
in the shadow
of my mind
| Author Notes |
I am having problems with editor words are supose to be in line.
Walt |
By Walter L. Jones
Burning feeling in the night
Like the rhythm holds you right
Body swaying feelings playing with your mind
Little lady thinks you're fine
How is it this time
Voice says he is mine
Music of the rain
Would drive most insane
Lonely light bulb winging high
Rubber tire they going to try
To light eyes like a dead fly
Just a jolt enough to make you cry
Laying on the wet floor
As the questions leave the door
Head is spinning around
Rat a tat rings true
Savor comes for a few
Hospital bed
I know I am free
Well as free as I can be
Airport small town
Factory job it' s good
Doing everything I should
Cold beer going down
Last of day
not much left to say
Well at least I' m home
| Author Notes | This is a person captured and interrogated, now has returned home. The poem is about techniques used to keep sanity, and talks to a type of torture where an electrical charge is applied to a person standing on a wet floor tied to an electrical cord, person apply current is standing on a tire. Expanding this thought farther, each of us deals with problems of life in a similar manner, we simply hope they will go away. Seldom do they. Form is intentional it is intended to work as the mind would in this stress filled overload condition. |
By Walter L. Jones
Wind burns my face and touches me
in the pale of moon light I see
the beauty of what should be
a world for just you and me
Like the rain falling on the roof
I feel the love running into me
your excited eyes I see
in the glory of who and what we are
whispering wishes on the same star
Hear the voices vie in the air
yours stands out showing you care
lord you have always been here
playing the strings within my heart
In the glory burning bright
I hold your precious image tight
you are my guiding light
yours is the smile from a far
Age brings back your face
like the clouds cottony erase
music upon a harp you play
captures me again today
When the rainbows come
in the mid day sun
that is when the colors run
like the music deep inside
Crystal rings as the angels
prepare your songs to sing
I can only hear your name
this is your picture frame
A single heart engraved
inside appears two names
passing quietly in the dark
eyes a glow I am sure now you know
you have always owned my soul
| Author Notes | This poem is about the death of love, person waited to long, to express his feelings. |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | What role do you play, if you rest |
Sleep attacks my weary eyes
I find myself lost as in life
escaping the relentless silence
of today's stress induced fear
I demand the dream of good
I find my table fully laden overflowing
filled with all of the special
greed so very carefully laid out
It is not mere love and hope that
finds me on this special night
explosion of feeling present a challenge
hero you know that I must be
Yet, I can not enter the fly
nor through night become the sky
Walk through the scripted time
or play super anything
I simply provide comfort to a loss soul
I laugh till I cry with a lonely child
I pray on bended knee with a mother
receive the gift, of God, for guidance
Warmth escapes me and fills me
gentle sleep holds no quiet sound
my mind has been drained now emptied
I awake soul cleansed body refreshed
Challenge engaged and on the field of battle answered
nothing gained or lost, but the dream still lives
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Just what is freedom and equality, I wonder? |
We enter the world of
believing. We pray all will go
well. Then we drink a toast to
evil, Making for others a special
hell. Spring break we need a
vacation. We tell our brothers, we love
them. We pray that they will never
know, that deep inside we loathe
them, outside we can' t let it
show. Some get in with free
tuition. We say we are quite
different. We say we write what we
see. Can it be, we are
blind? Some don' t want to be
free. Freedom is an ideal living
position. Bought me a brand new
car paid with cash borrowed from
dad Not as nice as friends
own Just took everything that he
had Irish
whiskey is a family tradition
| Author Notes |
Both as a country and a people we profess freedom and equality, it is a world filled with competition and many different life styles. Even internal, we are measured not on ideal but success. Strange
a humanitarian, may slit your throat to get the next opening, the end justifies the means? Only in ammerica do sing about our ... |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | One-man returns from war, faces reality of a society that cares only enough to send it?s very best. We look but do not see the price paid by some. |
When the world was new, it was filled with you, now it is old, I have no gold
Child like dreams, locked up in silly schemes, I cry in the night
I always knew, I was in love with you, look a silver metal on my chest
I crawled past the line, I found you in my mind, I thought you would know
Captain words, they go unheard, I am reading letters, returned from you
They said you left, no forwarding address, wish I could follow and find?.
Wind and rain, storms now are all the same, each step I take, causes pain
I am finally going home, all of life?s sins I must atone, way many deaths I own
Just where do I go now, I can't feel the ground, I see the horse and plow.
That was many years ago, my saddest day was when she went away
Where will I stay, flowers blooming on the field, I am the dog the stray
Shallow grave, on the side of the road, cover by newspapers and snow
Did anybody know, did anybody care, that I came home
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Day dreams can fill a life time |
Someone
stopped along the way
To mess my hair and catch to
play
It was summer and I was in
love
She was an older girl with
an earthly whirl
She thought that I was
fun
Tag was her game man could
she run
Days slipped into
nights
An awkward kiss by
firelight
She smiled and said I was
too young
Yet as the days turned into
months
She was the one to kiss and
hold this much
When the days grew cold she
had to go
In the spring of
68
I crossed her path
again
Her face was tired and
old
Vietnam had laid me
low
A bottle was my
home
She was not
alone
Held a child in her
arms
The outcome of her
charms
I walked her
home
She messed my
hair
Talked about way back
there
I was still in
love
Summer lasted into
spring
I even bought her a
ring
But I was too
young
Life?s hard
blows
Had laid us both
low
This time I had to
go
Now in the winter of my
years
I still see her
here
We share more than beer
She messes my
hair
Tells me how she cares
As she rocks in her chair
By Walter L. Jones
Tears mark the spot. Where you
left my heart.
It was not so long ago. I knew your name.
Yours and mine the same, the
hurting never stops.
You walked away, buried you today. I don't know went
wrong.
The kids all lay in bed. None
accept you are dead.
What went wrong with you? Each room calls your
name.
Why did you leave, in dark of
day?
Clouds get in the way, still I see you here. I miss you!
Ground is cold and hard. I lay the
roses down.
I walk slowly from your grave. Was life really that
bad"
I will never give in to all the temptations.
You have left clues
lying around.
Kids and I still pray. We made it
through another day
I watch for suicide signs in Abby's
eyes.
I tell her its ok to cry. She will
anyway.
Well, all of us we are moving on.
I guess, from me this is so
long.
All that's left for me to do,
is try to live with out
you.
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Families are made up of pieces, each piece adds value, when one is missing others must pick up the slack. Still the void is present. It does not mater what type of family all work the same. |
In the hour before I sleep, I hold you close to me and it is just like yesterday. I feel your life inside of me. It is more than a memory and I just have to keep it alive. The kids I hold tight. The memories of you each night somehow make this world all right.
You are our guiding light that leads the way through our dark lonely nights.
The stories that you told, keep the fire burning bright; it is as if, you are standing by each of us. Your words echo here. A voice so load and clear. Your memory keeps our drive alive.
You are our guiding light that leads the way through our dark lonely nights.
A touch from the past, a please that will last into all of eternity. You are the spirit that keeps hope alive, the memory that survives all the pain that exists here. Rainbows in the sky covered by rose-colored eyes. We see you everywhere.
You are our guiding light that leads the way through our dark lonely nights.
Each says a prayer with words you taught us dear and the song of life goes on and on. I hear your voice in the wind and each child dreams of a day when you will be back home.
Your voice comforts and calms all our fears.
You are our guiding light that leads the way through our dark lonely nights.
Your foot upon the stair, I look but you are not there, just a wanting so strong inside of me. The feel is so real that the children think they see you standing there. How much longer will it be?
You are our guiding light that leads the way through our dark and lonely nights.
Your presence is everywhere; each of us understands our role in your plan and each will do the part. I keep always songs and words written in our hearts, our family lives on until your return.
You are our guiding light that leads the way through our dark and lonely nights.
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | There are few things quite as lasting as a first love. |
Walking down the back roads of a
memory
I stop and find things that use to
be
Like a lover in the child hood
years
A warm friendly touch that took away my
fears
The awkwardness of a first kiss, passion running
wild
The happiness that can only be found when you are a
child
The warm sunlight found in tall grass by river's
edge
The warmth of summer love made in nature's
bed
The joy of being there such a long time
ago
Memories of youth now where did they
go
Walking down the back road of a memory
I wonder if, she ever thinks of we
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Life holds many trials for all of us. |
It was raining in Atlanta. I was
waiting for a plane.
I heard a small voice to her mother she complained
I am just a love child neither
loved nor blamed.
You and I are stuck here, waiting in the rain.
Who was my daddy? Was he kind
and sweet?
Was he just another of your friends off the street.
I was sipping my coffee. She
walked up to me.
I can tell you were listening. What is it you see?
Well there was only this girl.
I'd say she was thirteen,
not another soul but me.
I said, "I see a young
girl, not much older than thirteen".
Shy little girl half smiled and said, "I
am eighteen".
My mother's is in the coffin.
She is coming on this plane.
I will ride with her home through the pouring
rain.
It was raining in Atlanta I was
waiting for a plane,
listening to young woman explain.
For years I searched for her.
Grandma said there was no cure.
Her soul was as free as that of a tiny bird.
Sheriff called grandma said
they had mamma locked up in cell.
Addicted to coke, living in a special hell
I was on my way to see her.
There wasn't any cure,
for the sheriff found her, hanging in her cell.
It was raining in Atlanta. I was
waiting for a plane,
holding a young girl, as her tears fell like rain.
When my world is done spinning.
I plan to take a special tour of the hells each of us endure.
I pray for pain of heart, I
will find the cure.
Cause its raining in Atlanta, and I can still see
her.
By Walter L. Jones
I stole a glance back at the
moon
Meeting in the summer room
Bridge swaying to the human beat
Music
to the rhythm of my heart
Danger floating in the air
Running fingers
through the wavy hair
Swallowing up the sweat of forbidden
Dreams and the
feel of passion known
Just not allowed to be seen
Warmth and love flowing
like the scent of
Lilac in the wind passion so sweet
My body bends and
folds with each new
Blast of wind or gentle breeze, mind spinning
I cannot
tell up from down the beating of my heart
Drowns out every other sound
The
world is mine to own
Soft is the tone of whispers in the night
Cares lost
in latent light
Nature takes its toll
The bridge falls to the
valley
below
By Walter L. Jones
A card game in black of night, a year?s wages lost before daylight.
Crew smells a skunk, finds marked cards in the captain?s trunk.
Midnight bells ring on the bow, calling forth crew of the garbage scow.
Sea heaving back a life, blood still drips from the knife.
No tears, to fall here, tasks are done, now only fear.
Moon casts an evil bar; clouds now cover every star.
Death's music sings, shadows of life still ring.
A feast for the deep, a final sleep. Captain?s log ends, last message sends
Sea swells up, and gobbles him. Rest will go home to die in sin
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | This is a poem I wrote 33 after I left Vietnam, it is actualy the second withthe same name, the first I wrote the day I returned. I may submit that one some day. |
Words of wisdom wrote today
By a soldier far away
"I wonder what they say if I get home"
With
the smell of death all around
From the sorrow in his pen
He states
these words again
"I wonder if I will get home"
It's a dark and lonely
night
And the smell of death bellows up from the ground
Like a
torrent rage, fear swells inside
Words of honor and pride
Still he
writes "I wonder if I will go home"
from the moon up in the sky it is
Midnight
And smell of death strikes at his very soul
Somewhere in
the dark a flash
Carrying an ounce of lead
Barely misses his head
Will this take him home?
But the smell of death was almost his own
"Medic's on their way"
That's what the sergeants say
And just
maybe his buddy will go home
The smell of death lingers in the air
He holds the bandage tight
It takes all his might
To stop the
blood from pouring out
He is sure his buddy going home
Now the smell of
death is in his hair.
Voices screaming in the dark
Fear almost
stops his heart
"I just want to go home"
And the smell of death is real
after all
A medic holds his hand
They are asking him to stand
He
cannot feel his legs
Home is so close
But the smell of death makes its
final call
Words of wisdom almost done
And the battles still not won
For this soldier his body's going home
And the smell of death it lingers
on
Words of wisdom wrote today
To a family faraway
Your son
died bravely
We are sending him home
But the smell of death it is not
gone
By Walter L. Jones
When time measures its
path
in trips around the sun
Then I know my days are
done
Within the allotted time my life is run
Into the sea of
life and sin
I have now found the peace that lives
within
Sounds of day fall into the quiet night
My heart it
shouts turn out the light
Still somewhere in the bliss I
remember
Her first kiss and passion flows inside
Wonder of wonder of wonders is this pride
My soul and I are not ready to
go
Picking up my stick I walk another mile or two
Along
the way I see the likes of you
A tempting site I must admit like
roasting pig
Upon the spit, already for the main course
Across
the land I see what brought this all on me
A life almost complete
and yet I never left this one street
A narrow view of time that lives in
side my mind
A few words spoke in confessional soul is forgiven
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | The older you get, the more you forget what it was like to be young. |
Always just a drink away is
the shallowness of youth
Takes away man's truth; keeps him from screwing up
another day
Chances spent in hell, equals the story that you might
reveal
The blood, the fear, the last fight they do not allow you to tell
Who cares what is right; engines screaming down the drive
Miracle if
any of them are still alive; whom is the drunk in the night
Who was it
who said you'd be better off; well she took the pill
Still she is pregnant
not ill; not born... all of you were just dead
My daughter, I held her
tight against the fears of life
From her, I took the butcher knife; she is
safe until morning light
What ever I see; I pray for youth,
To take,
accept truth, In the mirror is me
I truly do understand, believe it or
not
Once I was a man of only twenty three
By Walter L. Jones
It was cold and the lamp had burned too low
Felt the warm of all of her next to me
Softly I read the tale of man upon this earth
Each word flowed from my lips like an aged wine
Soft and sweet to be cherished for its body and taste
Images on the page full of color lit the room
Each phrase gave promise to the good life
That was here and the waste and pain of freedom
It was full and clear that death was no more than knowledge
Questions un-asked filled both our minds as I read the words
Slowly an understanding was developing there was only one rule
That rule was broken, curiosity, seeking more, good or evil
Sleep overcame us and she buried her head into my chest
I trimmed the lamp one last time, more to find and seek
Dawn brought the glory of sunlight through the cracks in the logs
Gently I stroked her until her eyes opened wide with excitement
The new day offered the joy growth and beauty to be observed
My toes swished in the grass filled with morning dew
The water of the spring brought back the joyful memory
Fresh snow melted into a wondrous nectar that awaken the body
We slid into the stream and let our bodies be engulfed in the purity
Refreshed the day passed easily as the precious seeds we laid to ground
Each row as straight as the line laid by a single ray of sun from east to west
Our feet absorbed the warm and energy from the fresh turned ground
As the sun set, she wrapped herself around me, like a human blanket
Bible in hand, I began to read, the next verse, as we lived the life
From beginning to end each line became our life of test and trial
Age and time blended on our journey with love and question
No answer left not understood for we were the start of life a new
Our children lived the same, as we simple, loved, striking out
Each, I gave a book copied by me, illustrated by her, loved by God
By Walter L. Jones
I am walking in the shadows of a re-occurring memory
You know I don?t take kindly to what you have done to me
My heart is aching to be free, but you will not let me be me
I see your face in every woman, I hear your voice
In the street, you?re the image of every girl that I meet
My heart is aching to be free, but you will not let me be me
Got my arms around a lady just as sweet as wine,
In less than a heart beat all she is will be mine,
But your memory haunts me every time
My heart is aching to be free, but you will not let me be me
Saw you standing on the corner with your smile so sweet
Selling everything you have on the same old street, still
My heart is aching to be free, but you will not let me be me
I am walking in the shadows of a re-occurring memory
I don?t like what you are doing, doing to me
My heart is aching to be free, but you will not let me be me
I see your face in every woman, hear your voice in the street
You are every person that see, that I meet
My heart is aching to be free, but you will not let me be me
Got my arms around a lady as sweet as wine
She is willing heart and soul to be mine
I think I have beaten your memory this time
My heart is aching to be free, but you will not let me be me
Saw you standing on the corner with your smile so sweet
Laughed at you as my love and I walked passed you on the street,
My heart is really free; I finally let me be me
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Open for interpretation |
From my fingers flow a special kind of sound
The world speaks to me the talented clown
I teach the student words to regurgitate
Sending back grades that mark their fate
Wonders of wonders this class is
As slippery as the proverbial snake
I cause the pain then their money take
I hear each of them as their hearts pound
In my class to my every word their bound
Learning at an astounding rate
The day has come for each to make their round
I pick the strongest of the lot to see what has been found
A tear holds up inside my mind as the diagnosis is first rate
I have to chuckle as my wife asks me for a date
I paid for supper, just who was the teacher here.
By Walter L. Jones
Walking in the shadow,
stumbling through the door
Slipping past the rainbow viewed a burned shore
with my life the window I will stop a time or two
Looking for the future
seeing only you the shrew
Shadows burning the hole inside
my mind
Questions of yearning are lost in another time
Ah now I remember
it was but yesterday
I went home but was not allowed to
stay
Something about my image death is what it's called
Must be
some mistake I am not playing a harp upon a cloud
Aimlessly I wandered
through a body on the floor
just a drunken stumper. Someone closed the
door
Walking in the shadow stumbling through the seam
Slipping
on God's rainbow. Sliding down the dream
Bending and flowing with the air
around me
My life is finished as I can well see
Just what is to be come of me.
By Walter L. Jones
Sweetness
is the calling card
of
those who so hate pain
it's kind of like the
surpy stuff
and sometimes falls like rain
The bitterness of sister
kiss
is often found inside this word
it is the same as common rain,
some say it comes from a bird
Now don't get me wrong
I would not
place it there,
but tell me how does rain fall
from a sky that is bright
and clear
A friend has said she'd rather be dead
than to be told
these passing words
?kissing your lips is something like
that of kissing
my sister?
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Good guys and bad guys, can not tell by the color of their hats. |
I was rider on the black road I did
ride
Love and hate companions by my side
Devils they are screaming in the
wind
Each carrying one of my many sins
Cannot let them catch me or I will
die
Horses and cattle thundering across the sky
Caught a glimpse of her as I
hurried through the town
Saw her long hair hanging down
Saved her from the
lonely gallows tree
She would have hanged there but for me
Saw the sheriff
boots swinging high
Neck stretched in the evening
sky
Wears a black bonnet on his
head
Judge took him for me now he is dead
The devils are on my flying
heels
I know they will not gut out a deal
Mexico is almost home and I ride
alone
Love and hate will fight it out
She heads North I head
south
I was a rider in the daydreams I
did ride
Beautiful woman lived and died by my side,
Yesterday's a memory,
money and the badlands call to me
A hefty price I will pay, escaping death
another day
The child dies in the sand, grows up to be man
Hope is dead and
gone, this is not a cowboy song
By Walter L. Jones
Who are you to judge me
What
gives you the right
To question everything I do
I did not ask to be
born
You picked me
I did not pick you
Slamming of the door
Heart tore
from my soul
Pain at every turn I will
Not sleep this
night
Gas up the car hit every
bar
Looking for my angels light
Tears streaming down she is found
She is in
the "worse part of town"
Sawed off loaded can't be seen
I wish this were a bad dream
Push my way through the door
Three or
four got her laid on the floor
No daddy the last words two will ever hear
In the quiet of the night
I hold
my daughter tight
Tell her everything will be all right
Capt' says get the
hell out of here.
My partner is outside says
Let us
take a little ride
My daughter is on a plane
to Omaha.
My wife she cries and screams
Time
for her to move her dreams
My family has to pack up and go
I am back out
on the street
| Author Notes | Working in the covert world of drugs and flesh trading, has a heavy price on the family, in more ways than one. |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Values are always just beneath the surface; however, sometimes they are very hard to see. |
Teardrops fell on the
note
Silver words were wrote
I can feel the pain in the
pen
Like a never ending ride all
bottled up inside
Someday I will let her know
In the valley of the
death
Saw the man come for me
Burning eyes did I
see
Like a never ending ride all
bottled up inside
Someday I will let her know
Bottle still in my
hand
Being handcuffed by the man
Pushing me to the
ground
Like a never ending ride all
bottled up inside
Someday I will let her know
Concrete floor iron bars for a
door
I know that momma loves me
I gotta note for the judge to
see
Like a never ending ride all
bottled up inside
Someday I will let her know
Daily walk across this
land
Burning words in the sand
I saw the writing on the
wall
Like a never ending ride all
bottled up inside
Someday I will let her know
Teardrops fell on dad's
note
As I read the words he wrote
I am going to
her
Like a never ending ride all
bottled up inside
Someday I will let her know
Thought I arrived too
late
She was buried and in the grave
Preacher smiled and said "your soul
is saved"
Like a never ending ride all
bottled up inside
Someday I will let her know
She can see and she
knows
Water splashed over me
As my sins are set
free
I finally know where I will go
By Walter L. Jones
Since the beginning of time, man
has taken from man.
There is always a desire to have what the other guy
has.
Since the beginning institutions,
men justify taking what belongs
to other men.
Like gangs on our streets,
countries band together for
protection and justification, for taking what
belongs to others.
The wants of one out weighs the
needs of others.
In this country, we use up the rest of the world resources.
We are the king of the hill;
standing tall for the next person
to take a whack at.
My country right or wrong, my life
style, be like me if you are
strong enough.
Take what you want, live the good
life, set the bar,
whatever it takes.
Not just a few but everyone is
entitled. You don't need to work for it, just take,
might makes right.
Words are written. "History" sets the
stage. I defend my right to this life.
Fear forces me to take drastic steps.
War is the outcome of years
creating a life that is not
supported by the work done.
You threaten my safety, you can hurt me, and I will hurt you first. My gang against your gang. Nobody wins, but I make you less of a threat to my way of life.
Death comes, the value of life, small cost for living comfortable; what are a few sons and daughters, I can always have more.
"& A mother cries,
A father
dies,
A soldiers tries
Their life is hard
My life or yours
No compromise
Outcome is war& " 1
1 Death in the morning by Walter L Jones 1964
By Walter L. Jones
The bitterness of
hate
Fill my soul and mind
It is a bit too late
As thousands lost
life
The quiet of a fall
day
Burned in memory
What happened to the
Proud the brave the
free
Intimidated by a
threat
From a burning sky
Thousands left dears ones
To light up a sick
sky
Why have you not
left
This world drop to it knees
Why haven't you destroyed
Those who
are not free
God of Gods leader of the
Jews
Who is it that should pray to you
Protector of Abraham's band
When
and who infest your land
Infidels that's what they
say
Each and everyone takes a way
The body of a living soul
Does your
clan grow old
Ah the words of love
Sent
by the dove
Still my heart is sad
Is the world really this
bad
Calm my passion
Hear my
plea
Let my heart be free
Of this
hate
By Walter L. Jones
There is any emptiness
Inside of me
A feeling, I feel
But cannot
see
A
nagging of where and when
Like something
from here and then
Time lost in
find
Maybe a condition of mind
I
can?t say it is lonely
But it seems that
way
Sometimes it goes but mostly it
stays
Am I seeking lost youth
maybe truth is the need
or maybe wisdom to plant a seed
the condition is tired
I think I will just sleep
Wondering, what will become of me
By Walter L. Jones
There is a place
where even money
Cannot hide
it is a shameful place
where old folks reside
Tied to beds
fed drugs like
dogs about to die
sad is the heart
Blue is their sky
soft the smell of rain
it falls against
their window pain
Children stop and stare
see them tied
to their wheel chair
so they don't fall out
We turn our heads
the other way
but someday
it will be our day
Tied to bed
sores so large
begging God
to make them dead
Still there is no word
no soft call
phones don't ring
down the hall
One nurse and two aides
to care for 40 or more
let one get lost in a store
just shoot them up
Let them be
no one the torture
shall ever see
just because they are old
With or with out gold
we will place them here
look at age with fear
on old folks day a visit
Then run as fast
as we can from there
no time to care
it is a lonely a fare
Close the window
turn out the light
maybe a visit
some other night
I rub her back
I wipe her brow
I walk with her
here and now
With stories she fills
my mind of a gentile time
when work and smile
was her way
I think I'll
visit again today
By Walter L. Jones
From Santa fee to Alabam the bars are all the same
Beer is cold, broads are bold, each with a fife rent name
Slip a ten, a honey knows what in store
Strum a note, wrong words stroked, sail through the door
I am getting better, I guess it's cause I am old
The woman are friendlier now that I have some gold
I don' t sign tee shirts just breasts full and firm
Most are from girls with nothing left to learn
My Whiskey River will never run dry
Kris has got a tear left in his eye
Johnny dead and gone
Nine inch nails a deadly song
Motorcycles and fast cars
Horses drinking in the bars
Outlaws and renegades
Now, those were the good old days
| Author Notes | Light heart poem about people I liked to hear sing. The going up was worth the coming down, from the " rocking of the cradle to the rolling of the Hurst" Kris Kristopherson |
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Money and accolades are nice but with time they die. Well written words on the other hand may live forever. |
Today we walk in fear of all the things we hold dear
Lost to sun and rain the onset of old age pain
Like shadows on the dawn we pray these will be gone
Still they linger in our mind it is close to being our time
Will we leave a word or two and brighten up just a few
Is it our lot to pass quietly or play the flowers of forget me not
I hear the death call it comes for us all but I will not leave
My words will glow in the hearts of many I know
My children will pass the tales of riding dinosaurs and whales
By Walter L. Jones
In the shadows
of the evening with death all around
I see the sun set on the other side of
town
Like burning embers in the last of camp fire light
The
ghosts of yesterday dance through the
night
The fighting over hundred years past
Sabers still ringing as another soldier breathes his last
And I today' s
messenger lift up another soul
and gently carry him to his
heavenly
home
By Walter L. Jones
Earth and wind rue the day, as I come out to play
in the silence of burning clay
You see my face hidden in the grain like sallowest of yester year
A mark a thought a special fear, the last scream before a tear
A swallowed scream, a constant dream, guilt and fear they all live hear
me in the things you say, I take a piece of you each day
The evil that escapes in every word and step you take
Let me die if you can but it is not part of my plan
I own you because of your pride. Oh foolish fool not a place to hide
The color true to life is as sharp as the tongue your knife
You cut everything so deep in the night you break their sleep,
with terror of revenge it will we be your end
On your grave it will say ?he planned the end this way?
By Walter L. Jones
They talk of milk and
honey
They talk of yesterday
They talk about the money
All of it gone
today
I talk about daydreams
I
talk about love
I talk about squirrels
On my roof
above
They talk about girl
friends
They talk about fast cars
They talk about lost morals
Wonder
about life on mars
Grandkids hug me
Listen
to my tales
Wondering if Grandpa
Could really ride on
whales
Dinner is over now
Time
for them to leave
Each of my people take
A piece from
me
Past to the future
Love
in all I see
History is the garden
From which grows
The family
tree
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Faith and love prevail |
I have but a step to take
I know exactly where
I will be in morning light
I will see you there
A promise made long ago
From a tree standing tall
It was on hill overlooking
At least his mother and Joe
A tomb that' s hollowed out
A place to rest your head
A taste of hell a memory
Laid to rest in a garden
Still you are not dead
A hand placed upon
A woman' s love true
Tears as she cries for you
A comfort hand a voice
That' s soft and sweet
A reminder of a place
We will you seek
Death is but a moment
No time frame here
Life is in the living
I must now leave that hear
Brooks flow to rivers end
Rivers flow into the sea
Love comes from God
I give it to you from me
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | Loss of love is the greatest pain, it takes the breath |
When mourning sun meets gentle rays of the jagged dawn
Window breaks in fright followed by love lost in the night
Room spins, shadows grow, turn gloom into a virgin light
Hope fails as does faith from your pillow you are gone
The taste of a tormented love still lingers upon my breath
Nameless silent sound crackles in fleeting fear all around
Wanting desire the burning fire of my tears trickling down
The please has once again escaped the lingering like death
By Walter L. Jones
From
windows buried deep in the woods
I
find you among the trees the least understood
all
accounts you are the chosen one
Hair
of gold eyes of blue glistening in the sun
Lips
as red as any of the ruby wines
A
body of the gods at least in another time
Still
in the entire world many look like you
a
nip here, a cut there, a little silicon
some
body fluids, maybe even a little sin
Then
your voice melts butter and leaves honey wanting
Deep
in the trees I see you a head above the rest
No
question in my mind I ' d see the tree in the wood
By Walter L. Jones
When the day breaks into forms of routine. I move forward to change. It is change that allows growth and development. It is true that through repeating motion we often improve in time use spent and even in better performance of the task. In life however, getting better at something only means that I have taken another day from seeing the excitement of the new thing. I live to learn, to touch and feel all things. It is true that I must have a base to move forward; I just do not want it to be one that is stale. Love smiles on the poet, for adventure is at his heart. The educator lives to the routine repeat the theorem, satisfy the form, and make the verse sing the song of old. I change as I seek growth. Move forward with me, I like to have friends about me as I succeed in each new endeavor, what fun is glory if you have no one to share it with. Find the good in all of today, seek the hope of yesterday, and chase every rainbow in the sky....
| Author Notes | This is not the presentation I had hoped for, I just could not get the editor to co operate. I hope the message is still seen. Walt |
By Walter L. Jones
For once there was a dreamer
Who
dreamed the pretty dream
Lost all
in reality we scheme
She
belonged to another cold
Story
filled with warmth
Body of
age heart sold to gold
Book is
finished lays in a bin
Love was
bought and sold
History of love, they all live in sin
By Walter L. Jones
Nothing is free, even salvation has a
price
Silver letters on a plaque
blood - stained dreams
an't no lookin
back
Salvage a nightmare
words written in que
an't nobody
dream'n
were just look'n for you
Stand alone on the platform
tell your song to the crowd
just look'n for heaven
face to the
ground
Heard my daddy say'n
don't nobody win
if your look'n for
forgiven
then you must except the sin
Saw the pastor
look'n
heaven bound
knew he was scream'n
hell and fire goin down
Children talk'n to gold
old man say'n it is time to go
water a
float'n body soft
baptism of the reborn soul
Saw the silver letters
shining black on black
if your preach'n 'redemsion'
just an't no
look'n back
Muddy water can lift a body high
you don't know who you
are
if you never try
blood - stained dreams
Fire floating in the
sky
floods left a rainbow
even God can cry
Man he has been here
left his mark upon ground
listen to the pain
even children will
drown
Flesh is the day
Burning morn'n sun
all of us marching
to the sound of the gun
Cross planted on hill
just a few drops
of blood
outcome of the kill
water tastes like wine
By Walter L. Jones
Fear and pain abide in a place you sometimes hide .
Tears build up in your inside, only when you are alone .
Walking down the street. Terrified by the people you meet,
afraid of strangers you greet. Know this, you are never alone .
When I see what is inside, I look at you with parental pride .
There is no reason for you to hide, when you think you are alone .
It is you, your soul, I wait to greet. You that I will meet;
later on, on our home street, when you think you are alone .
Walking with you in the night, it is you that I will hold tight ,
Comfort you with all my might. You will never ever be alone
| Author Notes | In my childhood, I was often alone, I remember, words from my mother and later from a priest, as I deployed for Vietnam. My mother, as long as you can remember all I have taught you, I am with you, from the priest, God never leaves us alone , His word lives in our souls. I visited my mother's grave and the words came back. I wrote this poem. |
By Walter L. Jones
Nighttime is crying
A mirror of life
She is the angel
A woman, my wife
Soft as the dewdrops
That burn my throat down
Mellow as the brandy
I buy in town
Hot as my Saturday
Washing in the tub
Sweeter than magnolias
A special back rub
Nighttime is crying
I hold her tight
Tell her I love her
In the moonlight
Jukebox playing a tune
Tears dry in our bedroom
Last memory of nighttime
Sunlight floods the room
By Walter L. Jones
A voice in the desert
So soft from
home
I hear you
calling
Why don?t you
rime
Each night a blister
From the
sun
I am like lighting in the
?run?
Keep the fire burning
I know the
way
Through the
darkness
Till the light meets the
day
Lingering footsteps
where
Are you
now
Hear the freight
train
Burn down the
track
An?t no looking
back
Soft as the child in the
street
Warm as the kiss when you I
meet
Body on fire in the
night
I am looking for you not a
fight
Kiss the stars sing in the
sun
I am your life on the
run
Do like a singer out in the
bar
Strum your fingers she is
your guitar
Play the body inside your
mind
I will walk with you all the
way this time
Fingers are moving in the
dreams
Right up to the Sunday
stream
Keep the door
closed
Close it tight drunks are the
virtue
on Saturday
night
Walk in the wind sing to the
sun
I am your memory still on the
run
Whoa what is it
today
Child of love holds me
tight
found in my lonely night
Just another drunk
Singer in the band
Lost in the bar again
By Walter L. Jones
You ask me not to
cry tears are for
fools Slowly I
die I curl up in a
ball You tell me
lies I was but your
tool It revolves around my
.. I rant, I rave, I
scream You leave before I
try You think you are
cool Black become my
skies Love at last
gone You laugh as I
cry I am a young
fool
| Author Notes | Inside the corporate world, roles change, but lust and greed are as always. Now it is the young man, being used. |
By Walter L. Jones
The time is drifting across the troubled land
I step out to touch the wind who understands
I cry at night in the makings of a man
Are you sure this is God's plan
When the troubles of the world scream out
In pains memory what is the reason for there
To be you and me and I wonder still
Are you sure this is God's plan
The tide of life burns deep in the hills
when I see starving children it give me the chills
the screaming from weapons and children doing army drill
Are you sure this is God's plan
A wakened from a weary sleep gun shots ring out
I look to see a woman getting kicked about
And the officer her tries to save, he is told by her, just go away
Are you sure this is God's plan
The sorrow of the people spread far and near
Many a teardrop is found in a glass of beer
Another baby is born out of wedlock
Are you sure this is God's plan
The fool that guides the pen along
Writes the story of man but it has not been that long
Since he first on hind legs did stand
Are you sure that this is God's plan
The bitterness of age plays song into the night
I stopped to listen pretending everything is all right
Still I think the killer of the tale ran
Are you sure that this is God's plan
Why would I ask you!
slow to move
likes to pretend
uses up his free will
Ah, you are God's plan
By Walter L. Jones
I throw the die
And watch the spots
Lie
Seven eleven
Win
Daddy is drunk
Again
New shoes were just a
Place
For government
waste
So blood it is
Eye for eye
Drip for drip
And try for tried
No passion
What did you expect
Ah this an’t over yet
A bed of thorns
Is what you see
Death and free
Not me
A fire
Warm
A
Trouble
Storms
A way you stained thing
Wrench of hail and winter things
No pause in birth request
Shallow graces lay
No knife
No page
Just vote
And
Run
a way away
By Walter L. Jones
From the door to the day
I walk
the other way
Only
knowing what they say
But not
until I am gone
Slip
pass the color see the black on white
Know who
lives for each other is that right
Don? t
tell me that I am can not be
For I
will tell you what I do not see
I have
been the shadow you are but the tree
Together
we are neither just a single dream
The
child in us sees the grass upon the
ground
The
finger on the trundle the key in the
door
Hate is
hell bound I just opened up the floor
Flames
escaping heat coming fast, burning up my
past
You a
mirrored image wrapped in yesterday
I wonder who with your soul will play
By Walter L. Jones
By Walter L. Jones
In the morning near the
river
I reach for the son
Finding only the dreamer
In the pools of
the sun
Take my shoulder
if you are willing
let your heart dream
For my love is like the
river
And your heart is its' spring
When you wander through the shadows
Then I will call your name
It will be like the dreamer
In the valley
of the rain
From this my teardrops come
The love that leaves
the pain
Inside a memory that is where it belongs
From the first of
springtime
For full summer long
take the beauty of the moment
share
it quietly in the day
then lift my spirit
watch the petals blow
away
Walking softly through the clover
I will be by your side
Making
love in the moonlight
Tasting every passion made
I will hold you in
springtime
Till nature's bed is made
Summer calls me home
now
Winter doors open wide
I have lived in your memory
All it cost
was your young pride
Child of nature, yearning angel
In the night kiss
of fire burns
Songs of love caressed
The young fern
By Walter L. Jones
Would you stop the wind
To listen to the rain
Would you hold the pen
To write the words again
Do you see the child upon a knee
Would you love God above me
Do you hold the gift with the sky
Would you squeeze a cloud allow the tear to dry
Heard a voice saw a dove
Which was the word that means love
So you see the wind in the tree
Is the sparrow trapped or is it free
I have stopped the wind
To listen to your heart
I held the pen
To the sea to part
I gave the child your soul to free
You still cry to be let be
I built a home in your mind
You cannot find
Salt and rain fill your life
Mind dull as a used knife
But I love you anyway
I give yet another day
To find me
By Walter L. Jones
When days are but journeys, the night is a welcome relief. Stepping inside my mind, there is a peace that comes after a day spent. The life I choose to live provides opportunities for both success and failure in my eyes, because in the end I am the only one that counts at least on this earth.
My children point to something different: name recognition. You carry our name, at least the boys and we have to live with what you do and do not do. By the way, could you lose a few pounds, take down the Christmas lights; maybe move a few of those cars off the street, you know, like the junk yard.
Too much to ask? I think so, I brought them into this world, I could take them out, it is the only way they would lose my feelings for others, my need to accomplish, to serve, to create, to write of what I see, I feel, I taste, I love, and I need for survival. I cannot remove them. Who would carry on my name; read my work, drive my junk, laugh at my jokes, thank me for being alive to ask which way is the bathroom.
So it is the day boils down to a few minutes. Pen or keyboard spewing words for someone to read, and embarrass my children.
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | A poor tribute to 'Blake' |
If I offer a part of my heart, give you but a piece of my soul, will that feed your hunger?
No, I thought not for you must have everything, a jealous ?god? you are
Time for time, thought for thought, which door did I pick, the tiger chases the dream
In the maze I find more than mirrors, see doors that open both ways, strange it is
The words were not laid out upon the page, this time. They burned into the flesh
Branded in a form that marks me in the eyes of all who will cross my path
Murder, first they say to walk upon your land. I wish I?d known your preference
I would have raised the lamb
By Walter L. Jones
Silence fills the air
a
deadening sound that
is not there
Like snow on icicles
hidden light
a soft winter glow
Frozen in a pond
a grave
of life
not death's slave
A child of beauty
bird of
pray
lost this day
Rainbows fill my eyes
I
want
but cannot cry
Nature is true
It takes
life
yet comforts you
By Walter L. Jones
Sorrow strikes a blow
I cry like the rest
My heart is no different
Sad is human and lives
Water from eyes
Turns to wine
In memories past
Well I remember
The burning pain
Streams down a cheek
Years of love lost
A companion gone
I now lean on words
I fill with songs
I smile at old
But I cry for loss
Give me a moment
Not to remember but love
Joy upon mind
We talk one last time
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | A man comes again and again to get it right, how many times must I forgive my neighbor? |
Death stood before me in the eyes of hunger and anger laid by fate
Dropped a feeling of hate into the working end of a weapon
Drilled the spirit of temptation and left them to be sorted by God
Deaf and dumb dying to fight the Devil winning tormented voices
Death seeks no one it finds them looking to be free of the hell created
Cry at the wall
Wail in the image
Scream at value life leaves in the child
hate breeds the sleeve of heart break
Father, brother, sister, daughter, leave them
Pick up your cross and follow me
across the desert sand
Face east and cry salt
Rivers never flow and oasis dries in mirage
Tibers drops to linger in the will left
Mountain moves to meet a voice
Sea rides sand waves
Death stood before me in the eyes of hunger and anger laid by fate
Dropped a feeling of hate into the working end of a weapon
Drilled the spirit of temptation and left them to be sorted by God
Deaf and dumb dying to fight the Devil winning tormented voices
Death seeks no one it finds them looking to be free of the hell created
By Walter L. Jones
Author Note:In time we all visit places that offer a need. Look about and see the beauty hidden in changes taking place as day passes from start to end. Sun and moon offer different results. Each day plays a new melody as light and direction change creating fragments of change and shadow. Wonder is always in the eye of the beholder. You just need to look. Stained glass can take many forms, from rainbows to church windows, to water flowing in a brook dancing over rocks laid in perfect pattern.
By Walter L. Jones
Read and wind words fall in place like leaves
A crisp thought from the north brings forth fall seeds
In color glow minds dance upon an autumn scene
Drops of ink across a page in winter green stream
Lights of night purify a clear star filled sky
Trip into quill feather dips as promise or nature lie
Come hear my child and lay with me in school to learn
Watch the chasing of the earth with knowledge to burn
A bit of soft earth a couple of colored leaves
Each wandering soul in love is made of these
In dark of night and looming sun all is new
For winter brings forever in evergreen to view
Read and wind words fall in place like leaves
A crisp thought from the north brings forth fall seeds
By Walter L. Jones
Who are you to judge me free of sin throw your rock throw your rock
Mother dear what is the place we must lay one more time one more time
Kiss me goodbye in the wine one more time one more time
Take this cross and count the loss one more time one more time
Carry my load friend more time please one more time just one more time
No place to leave my remains this last time this last time
Each one is a gap are you mine are you mine
Take me down one more time one more time one more time
Lift me up as gift in the sun of a sign take my voice one more time
Hear me sleep in the deep of cry let me sigh one more time
In your body let me dwell let me dwell one more time one more time
She is the sound of love in coming down coming down one last time coming down
Life is in the sound of music being played as her soul and mine go down one last time one last time
Death becomes the vision left on the step on the step of time of time
Throw your rock throw your rock next to mine one more time one more time
By Walter L. Jones
I reach for the voice and take the load close your eyes
I will part the seas of your life for-ever
It was quiet in the valley as we mounted the hill
There was fifty yards between us they started the kill
Bless in wisdom seen as I take the dove and leave love
in brittle forms snakes mine a sign of new times
Daft and ugly was the voice of time and a cycle rode before them
to clear the mind of a memory and a God and in time all would be part of the sod
Don't dare to please the breeze of greed in spreading seed
we will leave there in the flesh of burning air a care lost
Sky filled with fire as the hail began to fall and in the mist of the hell I heard a call
gather up purpose leaving the angels win and in the end he will for-give this sin
cradle rocks in the hot rocks of blatant views of the shrews sadly left crying
I find the reality dripping in pure blood vintage left buried alive
Dripping from the sweat of the day as the bodies lay before me I kneel to pray
only vestige of time leaves my lips and the burden of grief commits pride
Cast revels the thrill of dire straits taken to the level of side and broken legs
face the rituals of man only the rich of the poor fool can still stand facing east bowing
Trouble lives in a river of red and the coffins of the living mix with the dead
will and wanton days are left in the aftermath of trampled yesterdays screaming
Scales measure the battle and the wine left in freakishness dread breaking bread
fishes filled the baskets and the crumbs feed the fishes as result of time honored belief
Come my children lets leave this place find the land of milk and honey eternal grace
Take the last of this dream and lay in fertile land of the bone of the jackass scheming
staff is broken as the water pours forth from the rock I am punished not seeing Cannon
only fire on hill as four forties open with quad fifties resolving all issues of truth
Fire power is the position and location of strategic place erased by man climbing a hill
all of the power in the world does not forget the angel falling and the will of his kill
By Walter L. Jones
Sun stops a top a hill in Malibu
never a talk or about life
just a vision a boy with a knife
call be in the afternoon
love is the pit in my stomach
trying to save another stoned fool
Disk and place as the silver in his spoon
Take one for the company sixteen stitches
I was just thinking of you son I was just thinking of you
read your letter and tears fall
so proud of your faith damn you stand tall
mother laughs at me see the tears
I send you the money to cover new cost
Pick up my pieces and move on down the road
Christ had a big cross but I still carry my load
Pain of living is the answer to all that I see
I hope son your as proud of me as I of you
Peeled another kid from the street
not many more last of the beat
gonna retire soon to that place
mind is gonna go clean
values erased
Watched a star drop from the sky
Heard the new birth of a child cry
cradle rocks in the sound
love still lives just a bit down
come home when you can son
I sure miss you
Fixed your room
almost looks new
Silver drips in the color of gold
I, your old picture hold
we are the reason
to be you are as much hero
as I can ever be
saved the story
thought you
might want to read
apple never falls too far from the tree
Sitting on a park bench
just thinking of you
not much is of value
a broken down feeling
wish I could be with you
old bones creak as
I walk the street
smile as young I meet
see your soul
in every face on the street
Thunder breaks my train of thought
look at the candy bar I just bought
smiling face thanks me
candy bars and stars
will never set us free
plate will always be full
remember son I am waiting
I walk with you where ever you go
Yard is cluttered and old
took that marker for sparkle
had it bronzed in gold
spread the ashes of vixon
mixed brown cried real tears
as the memories of pets settle down
Felt a hand on shoulder did not have to turn around
Left the house never made a sound
Every bit of me is still trapped inside
See you soon son in my mind
By Walter L. Jones
From prison dank to cathedral tall
each him and her came to tame or be tamed
in vision of better and sweet rebirth
found here self need nothing more
blood stained land freedom true
new as far as the eye can see
seed planted and grew
with just one view
self sufficient equaled free
Want and wonder more established by a few
from claim and vision descendents sent
to cap and build support for the old
still free souls rained over the decrepit and old
Europe scolds the visionary school
Is about to teach upstart a thing or two
casting lots many just move forward in the view
and earth became a battle ground
nothing new
Still in hero grace many just continued to live
for there was nothing needed
land was rich, gave good return
plenty of gifts for all
souls religious freedom did keep
a wonderment to all
space was great just moved a bit west
more of a man's mettle than a test
so sweet the feel of good history takes
and one becomes the other in the human race
Live and let be voice so often heard
a cry in the wilderness just ignored
in final state a history brought back into fold
a cry for help please save the world from war
idealolgy called the free man and from his self turned
in all of history nothing more did he learn
Use and abuse all the resources of the land
took what he wanted because with power he can
Live and want are now all met but he must take from others
in his need to grow he shows the way to keep from hunger
teaches truths of want and need being met
now his religion and life style are sent
his armies take the ideals and send
no fences left up nothing left to mend
power speaks and death comes
so perfect the rule
but I remember a garden where once there was only two
By Walter L. Jones
| Author Note: | From the depth of me I lay before you words, read if you can |
It was cold and I found myself lost in the reality of being
So wonderful it is to be alive and apart of dreams walking
Sweet dreams and prayers lead me to deep resting sleep.
A poet stops and tastes life
See dreams like no other
Touches a child to the soul
Rips a part the heart of every story told
Walks into the valley of death
Climbs the mountain of life
Challenges the wisdom takes the fools gold
Breaks down the squeals of hell in verse stole
Takes the words and fits the puzzle
Cries from the soul
Touches the face of God
Baby screams he holds
Loves in perfection
Stops for the play with a child
Sees age and appreciates
Hands of life he takes and in anger he folds
Talks too many in one voice
Walks the line between truth and fiction
Leaves his heart and image on the page
Sees angels dance in the snow as other hearts turn cold
Stops for roses and butterflies
Hears angels singing in the wind
Leaves rustling in the night
Picks up his cross and carries it for his words will not be sold
Storms taking pieces of forever
Clouds that form just for him
picture books and rainbows
Puts his heart and soul on the line for those that come in his footsteps
Special the day after rest given and observed
Wonder with the sun, warm to the depth of for ever
A poet maybe, I write my heart and soul
Author Notes
For some all that is, never was, for the bottom is lost to the eye and mind closed only to narrow view created by others. No face do they own or soul do they claim. Only trees long since dead in the garden of past. Vision is blocked by the black darkness. Knowledge does not grow it withers and prepares to die. Creativity is a vile and questioned thought. Page goes from black to blacker and the white is but a memory of used to be. Kiss of death is better than, What?... From, Walts book of quotes...copy write 1965
By Walter L. Jones
she reached for the glass
a dress in wonder stare
dance the pride
for all the family
there
fast and slow the bone rattle well
for in the last
what wonder
their story tell
age makes the mind
a fleeting stage
pride and find
escape the final page
marvel and wonder
as dance tells its tale
a memory left in mind and heart
across the floor she would sail
no grave for this child of God
her bones rattle still
in a house of doctor
where they learn their skill
Ground absorbs our every need
like angels in a sky
pulling every weed
some a coffin
will never need
in our minds she dances every day
smiles abound
across the floor
nary makes a sound
she reached for the glass
a dress in wonder stare
dance the pride
for all the family
there
| Author Notes | My wife's mother loved to dance and did so into 50's, all the modern dances, upon her death she requested her body be donated, so her bones could rattle still, angie captured her so well, my wife cried for the first time, since her mothers death some 15 years go |
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