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The blood is drying upon a rose tatoo that dances slow by the hearthstone jewels calling your name from shrew tamed steps; the horse and mule teem ain't market placing yet And I look from the door to the mountains cool; Old man Henry is a dancing fool. The Moon was listening last night to the tide; through the half dozeneers your stowaways ride. And treks of time and place told the telling that forgets just yet about the shoreline shelling come through; Lord have mercy upon the Dovelet flew tell miles. once long ago you was a first born child. And I glance by chance at the two of you; Old man Henry is a dancing fool. DESOLATION NEARLY DONE THE DAUGHTERLANDER IN: Earliest morning's light did pound it's mallet through the window as if the lost were found. I was living in a one room hole up the street from the pitch tent Preacher where the train tracks meet fool's gold. Bringing up in shadow land days of old by king rule round the sharp curve and back. Nothing but the thunderbolts weeping in doorways could trick me into ace and eighting old brother Norway and half sister grip tool old school Sue She told bout the carny blowing breeze she knew for a Pawnbroke palm reading morgue de rue Faith is wishbone gold trimmed new and good for the roll Never lay to ruin old Bethlehem's Soul. She come to Methuan with a two acre spread wishing the past roll over play dead. Amulet shining on a necklace leather blaze drum kettle hop knobby horse wheather spilling through She Sunday bested up under skies Christ knew as if last night were two thousand year old in the hair braid mirror she heard Her Soul breath slow Mozart seranades weave brocades through woodscapes mournful breezed and the bay water stilled as Earthen clay under Potter Lord clouds; the heart and Soul is a lonely perched Crow, the closer you introspect the less you know. Faith is a wishbone gold trimmed new as good glad roll never cast aside old Bethlehem's Soul. Long in the fast lanes Citizen Cained, photo's filled walls of plagerized rain. the next day was yesterday simple and plain to footprint sand made as if by feet shod by boots of bullseye Spain. simplicity convolutes what and all explains as salted youth Is your Boaz being shadowed down books after Ruth Are Isiah and Ezeckeil 86 proofed and autumn leaf Castled as waves to the beach head winglet wrestle one another foam white do Stars over Mangers treat your Wise men right with a glow. Faith is a wishbone gold trimmed new as Fatherland rows so never cast aside old Bethlehem's Soul. Anonymity looks both east and west, and poverty is richer than gold's taylor made the draw of the vale sets sail hand sculpted Have mercy and kindness volcanically erupted your train of thought to a kettle hob brewing shoe string stream stealing Prodigal Sons from the Motherland womb too soon overtured. So never cast aside Ancient Bethlehem's Soul. It's only human nature to point the finger at someone else because of something you fear you might have within your own self; I'm sure I my own self have done this plenty of times. The more-so mature a person is, the more they search within themselves for the fault. Introspection is an admirable character trait to possess. The more of it you have, the more you will search your own Soul, body and mind for either faults or qualities to admire. From this day forward, I am going to try to do this all the time. My worst faults are those of an over abundance of material objects, a quick rise to temper, and worrying all too much about what other people might(or might not)say or think about me. My better suits are kindness, generousity and(most of the time)my honesty. Courage also. Of all the world wide forms of Spirituality, I find Christianity to be the most profound(and I seriously doubt as to whether Jesus was as self righteous as he is portrayed to be in the four Gospels. When I lived in Hadley, as I remember, I went for approximately five years during which I said, as little as possible, anything negative regarding other people. I will try to do that again starting now. I will make one exception to this rule, that of human cruelty and violence. I have to visit my Nurse Practitioneer tommorrow, who has classified me as Scizophrenic, Psychotic and/or Sciziod Affective. I have thought about this diagnosis alot. What I actually believe about this issue is that everyone ever born is both sane, and insane. I also think that Love, Compassion, Kindness, Empathy and non-judgementality are much more effective at healing the physically, mentally and Spiritually abused Soul than any form of psychotropic medication ever could be. As for shock treatment, why not reverse the polarity of the electric current, and, instead of killing neurotransmitters by the hundreds of thousands, bring them back to life again! Paul A. Bedard. East Taunton, Ma.
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