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Jackie R. Kays
http://jackiekays.purpledream.com |
Swamp Monster
Jackie R. Kays |
Gather around, I'm going to tell you a story about a place I once knew,
when I was much younger than all of you.
Long ago back in this darken swamp, tall cypress trees laden with
Spanish moss grew. From out of the early evening mist a strange
sound could be heard by more than a few.
Some say screams, others to afraid to say.
But I know what it was and I'm going to tell you on this very day!
Beneath those brackish waters Cottonmouths, gators lurked, and
a single black raven loudly squawked as he fluttered from tree to tree.
It was the scariest place I'd ever been.
You can believe me when I say, I won't go back again!
Since I was a lad, I wanted to venture
into this old swamp and see what it had.
I'd always heard that a snake eyed monster
tarred there.
Some said it was just an old black bear,
but I wanted to see for myself if there
was really a snake eyed monster
living there.
On that muggy day, not far away. I saw it! A brown hairy creature staring from behind a big old cypress tree. You guessed it! Staring right at me! Green glowing snake like eyes, shiny black horns on his bony head. It jumped up and down and screamed. Scared? I thought for sure I was dead!
I screamed too, and took off running down that swampy path and I ran, and ran and never looked back, until I was sure I was long gone from that Monster tracks!
Now I don't know, but I've been told that some that go into that darkvswamp don't always come out! But after what I saw, that's a story
I don't doubt!
If you want to know where that swamps at! Send me a dollar and
I'll send you a map!
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Words
06/24/05 |
Words of love come large and small,
spoken in a soft voice, so sweet,
agreeable and kind, melting our
hearts and soothing ours minds.
Words of hate come loud and
clear, and with just one meaning,
to instill trembling fear.
Words of encouragement incite
confidence, promise and hope.
Which we all need at sometime
in our lives to cope.
Words spoken in anger are seldom
really meant, but all the “sorrys”
in the world won't make a dent.
So before we speak maybe we
should take a moment to think,
so those words, our ship don't sink.
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Vive Le King
07/08/05 |
On black velvet he will forever stand,
left hand high in the air, microphone
waving in his right hand.
His coal black hair waving in the desert air.
In his jumpsuit of purple velvet, trimmed
in woven gold. Singing; "Vive Las Vegas"
from the bottom of his soul.
The King of Rock-n-Roll will always
be remembered by his loving fans from
years ago. And young new fans still
singing and clap their hands.
He will forever live in song and fame,
For Elvis is his name!
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The Life And Death Of A Scarecrow
10/30/05 |
The Life and Death of a Scarecrow
In a wind swept cornfield he stands,
a vigilant sentinel always on guard
for that pesky thief…the crow.
He was created by his maker for one
reason and one reason only…protect
the golden grains of harvest and the
pumpkins too, so they might grow.
He stands in the heat of the August
sun and in the cold of the Autumn
wind. He sways from side to side,
but he never bends.
He never eats, sleeps and
has no kin.
He stands straight as an arrow
and has never committed a sin.
He's never spoken a word, yet
everyone knows his purpose is
to scare away the crow and the
pesky black bird.
Now that the harvest is at it's end
and he's done his duty again.
The cold winter wind begins to
blow, and his old straw hat fills
up with new born snow.
His corn shuck arms have fallen off,
and his face is slowly fading from
the worn cotton feeds sack.
Once gone, he will never
be back.
The old scarecrow is dying,
as a sentinel he's
served his master well.
But like all scarecrows,
He's finally gone to hell!
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Oh! How I Miss You Tonight!
11/15/05 |
The winds of time have slowly blown away my dreams,
my hopes and expectations forever more. I live day
to day, only in the memories of yesterday.
I find myself asking; "Was it twenty or thirty years ago?"
Oh! What I'd give to dance under that Paris moon
again with you and sing those songs of long ago;
Mona Lisa, La Vie en Rose, Paris in the Springtime.
They were our songs, and Oh! How they did rhyme!
I play those memories over and over again,
for it's all I have left of our life of yesterday
and a love we share so many years before.
Oh! My Darling, how I miss you tonight!
Thank you for the sweet memories of a life
time of love, devotion and delight.
I send my love tonight on the wings of a heavenly
bound dove and a kiss to your beautiful heart
shaped lips, so sweet and bright.
The winds of change are blowing, so it won't
be long until we'll meet again and our love
will be for all eternity.
A cold wind is blowing and snow is falling ever so light.
Oh! My Darling, how I miss you tonight!
In Memory of My Darling Wife
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Merry Christmas! "Ho Ho Ho!"
11/30/05
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Oh! How white the winter snow,
as seasons come and seasons go.
Christmas is almost here and
I can hear that old jolly white
hair man laughing; "Ho Ho Ho!"
Ice cycles hanging from the
eves, frosted windows
decorated with bright
garland wreaths.
Children playing in the
fallen snow with their
little faces all aglow.
Christmas trees lit
so shinny and bright
with there colorful lights.
Stockings full of goodies,
hanging over the fire
place waiting for that
special morning of delight.
Christmas cheer is once again here;
Turkey, ham, cranberry sauce,
pumpkin pie, fruit cake, candy,
and gifts for all!
What a wonderful time when
life seems to always rhyme!
Family and friends together
one more time.
Merry Christmas to all!
"Ho Ho Ho!"
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I Wonder
03/27/06 |
Into the Lion's Lair; they march with
weapons held high as deadly mortars scream
across the hot desert sky. Its been said; that the
blood they shed is for a noble cause held high.
Now, who am I to call that rationale a lie.
I question not the soldier's valor, for his courage
is far beyond the call, but ponder the logic of
that call to arms, from that great marble hall.
Year after year, thousands give their all,
and thousands more will forever nightly recall.
It saddens my heart, as the funeral candles
flicker and burn, for those young worriers,
who shall never return.
Mother's tears will fill an ocean, and
the father's will moan out loud in
slow motion.
I dare not question too loud, but secretly
wonder where it will all end, and as years
pass, will they rightfully say...
"Was it worth the lives of all those young
women and young men?"
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The Devil's Hand, Aces And Eights
04/01/06
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The Devil's Hand...Aces and Eights
Pay not the piper for he's the porter of unwanted truth.
I held the devil's hand as we danced all across
that jungle land.
The angelic glow of the pop flares flickering
in the monsoon rain, reflecting the terror of
the warring jungle's reframe.
Mortars loudly report as tracers in their colorful
glowing gowns boldly go, and young men search
their shaken souls.
Black Pajama clad figures scurry through the
tall elephant grass, unaware of the claymore's
in the wire. The howitzers bark and humans
die, that's the way of war and lonely
mothers will forever cry.
Losers all, winners none.
The score was kept by the
blood shed under that distant Asian sun.
Sing not to me the praises of that unholy
War, for many will remain there forever more.
Like the proverbial albatross around my neck,
that jungle war will haunts my revere until
the devil shuffles his deadly deck.
Then that jungle war will end for me...
with Aces and Eights...You see!
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Something's Are Never Done
04/30/06 |
We were young, we were soldiers with our guns.
We answer our patriotic call, we all stood
courageously tall. We were soldiers fighting in that jungle's deadly brawl.
We shed our blood, we shed our tears, we shed
our youth, we shed our lives.
Now, they say; we were baby killers, village
burners, war mongers and dope addicts.
I say; we were young, we were soldiers with our guns. We fought, we bleed, we cried, we prayed and we died.
What more can you ask of a soldier with his gun?
Those were the days my friend that we thought
would never end, but end they have and a granite wall of memories is all that we have left, but young soldiers continue to march with their guns. They bleed, they cry, they pray and they die.
What more can you ask of a soldier with his gun?
Ironically, something's are never done.
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Young American Heroes
05/15/06 |
In the Sergeant's arms lies the preciously
folded triangular banner off Red, White and Blue.
In the cargo bay of this giant silver bird lies the golden casket of his friend
and fallen Hero too.
No words can adequately describe the
significations of this unselfish supreme
sacrifice. Bravery, courage, dedication,
and loyalty to God, family and Country.
What more can be ask of a young man,
Who's life has been taken defending
the principles by which we so freely stand.
A loud report of rifles of honor and a moment
of silence…dear hearts can hardly bear.
High on this wind swept hill drifts the melancholy
echo of taps suspended in the cool Autumn air.
Here in this hallowed ground, lies another
young American Hero for whom the bells toll.
May we never forget his ultimate contribution
to the cost of freedom's goals.
May that Red, White and Blue banner always fly in America's sky...
for the cost in young American Heroes continues to be tragically high.
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