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FISH FOOD FOR THOUGHT

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The following pages are different from the homepage in that I will be submitting original poetry with more depth and personal perspective. Some will deal with nature...some with human nature. All of the works are FOOD FOR THOUGHT.
This poem has disturbed many adults, but I feel it is a realistic statement which reflects an all too often attitude among many young people. I don't ask you to agree or disagree...
GUNS OF THE YOUNG
Where do they go, the dreams of their youth?
guns of the young are loaded
Do they melt like the snow, are they buried by truth?
guns of the young, disillusion
Was there ever a time that's been harder on kids?
guns of the young are loaded
Do we know who they are. are they doing what we did?
guns of the young, searching
Their dads beat them, their uncles mistreat them, their best friends folks can't be trusted.
Do you wonder why, at times they just cry, get drunk, get stoned, or get busted?
When did they learn that love has to hurt?
guns of the young are loaded
Do they sometimes feel they get treated like dirt?
guns of the young, confusion
How will you show them you share in their grief?
guns of the young are loaded
When will they know that you feel and believe?
guns of the young, yearning
What makes you think they don't know wrong from right?
guns of the young are loaded
What makes you think they won't shoot in the night?
guns of the young...disillusion...searching...confusion...yearning
This next piece is a bit more positive, and reflects the universal impact of the individual.
IT STARTS WITH ONE
One stone can send a mountain crashing to the ground.
One snowflake can start an avalanche and send it roaring down.
One rain drop can start a river on it's journey to the sea.
One flag can lead a nation in it's stuggle to be free.
One seed can start a mighty forest, so tall the tree tops bend.
One spark can set it all ablaze, scattering ashes to the wind.
One step can start a lifelong march.
One step can bring you home.
One word can start a friendship.
One note can start a song.
One is such a little number, we are too often blind,
To see...to feel...to understand...we are but one mankind.
Now let's take a short stroll along a winding country stream and enjoy a little nature.
UNTITLED
Tonight I walked in golden spendor
retracing steps that I remember
leading down to a tree lined stream
and there I lay, and there I dreamed
of other nights when as a child,
I crept through woods...frightening...wild
guided by the moon's soft light
until at last I lost all sight
of houses, roads, and noisy machines
and walked on further toward another dream...
and walked on further beside my stream.

Where Ever You Go...There You Are

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SWEET THING...EVERYTHING I DO...
THE FISH VALENTINE POEM

Email: fish@memphomojo.com