Blackbird

Blackbird swimming in the dawn's grey light.
Shake your soakened wings with all your might,
Things aren't right.
You were only bathing now you're fighting to survive.

Blackbird sinking in the breaking light,
Spread your darkened wings instinctively.
Damn BP.
Escape this God forsaken hypocri-sea.

Blackbird try, Blackbird fly,

Reach for the heights of the clear blue sky.

Blackbird try, Please don't die.

There are no more answers, no more reasons why.

Blackbird giving it a final try.
Shaking desperately, trying to reach the sky,

Please don't die.

The world's forever praying for your blessed kind.
The world hopes and prays that your freedom find.
The world hopes and prays your race never dies.

Blackbird, why?

Oh God why?


Copyright © June 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
061510

You Talkin' To Me?

Manhattan Irish Italian,
American idol, screen and stage,
Robert, though a junior,
Took Hollywood bull by Rage.
Iconic Taxi Driver,
Neurotic Foster slave,
Supported Coppola's Godfather,
Famed Vito's early age.
Al Capone imitator,
Vietnam prisoner vet,
Ordained psychotic hunter,
Ruled at russian roulette.
Introduced Jake and Noodles,
Travis Bickle and Jimmy C,
Eccentric among good fellas,
Al Pacino and Joe Pesci.
Cady was fear personified,
Tilden Cop Land's reality,
Original New York wiseguy,
Remembered for "You Talkin' To Me?"

Kevin Mooney
Copyright © May 2010

kmm001

052210

Popsicle Stick Races

Gentlemen, start your engines,
Get your bets and wagers in.
Grab your umbrellas,
Tell all the young fellas,
As the pop sickle stick races begin.

It used to be I relished days,
When all it did was rain.
You couldn't play sports,
In swimsuits or shorts,
But a pair of bare-feet,
And inclined streets,
Were sourses that could sure entertain.

I always collected popsicle sticks,
To satisfy rainy day thrills.
Stuffed in a cup,
I'd gather them up,
Run out the door,
In a virtual down pour,
And head up the closest street hill.

Both roadsides would soon come alive,
As rivers rushed toward sewer holes.
The current moved along,
Steady and strong,
Width only deterred,
By the height of the curb,
As its rapids pitched and rolled.

Sometimes it was hard to find,
The most perfect starting line.
But once decided,
I'd crouch down beside it,
Choose 2 contestants,
From my prized investments,
And readied them in precisioned time.

Sometimes I would pause and wait,
Hold back before I'd begin.
I'd build a small dam,
With the palm of my hand,
Plug up the flow,
And get ready to go,
And place my contestants in.

I'd silently start to count,
On your mark, get set, go.
With no hesitate,
I'd lift my palm gate,
The inevitable rush,
Of water would gush,
Propelling my race crafts to flow.

Down the hill the sticks would glide,
Slightly shifting from side to side.
Fluming the lane,
Undetered by rain,
Swiftly they made,
The first driveway,
As I imagined I was hanging five.

Staying their quested course,
My sticks would pick up speed.
They virtually flew,
Past driveway two,
Past a mailbox,
Under some trucks,
With stick two in the narrowest lead.

I would walk, bent to the side,
Making sure neither flared too wide.
One slight mistake,
An unchartered wake,
Could cause them to bound,
Or wash aground,
Or away with a passing tire's tide.

With the finish line now well in sight,
I'd run ahead and get positioned just right,
As the sticks would approach,
I'd get in a crouch,
Stand ready to defend,
The sewer's way in,
And spare them a "down the drain" plight.

It looks like a photo finish,
Who won this time's hard to tell.
One thing that's nice,
If you don't get it right,
You rescue your sticks,
Grab two brand new picks,
And head back up to the top of the hill.



Copyright © June 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
061410

An Albino Rhino

 






There once was an albino rhino,
The only such rhino I know.
He was certainly a sight,
A pale ghostly white,
No color from horn tip to toe.
 
All of the regular grey rhinos,
Found him somewhat absurd.
He never socialized,
Was often ostracised,
From their otherwise, colorized world.
 
One day the albino rhino,
Met a pink phosphorescent elephant.
He didn't know,
An elephant could glow,
But saw her special and like him different.
 
They became best friends which was rare,
Ignored random gawks, laughs and stares.
After awhile,
All the elephants smiled,
Saw them as an interesting pair.
 
One day some hunters came by,
Thought they'd give elephants a try.
The grey rhinos knew,
There was nothing they could do,
But stay back and not question why.
 
But the albino rhino couldn't stand,
To watch his friend's slaughtered by man.
He considered the situation,
Then in sheer desperation,
He decided to execute a plan.
 
As the hunters drew close and took aim,
That's when the first charge up and came.
From dust that was stirred,
Came the cloudy white blur,
Of a ghostly rhinoceros frame.
 
Slightly rattled and somewhat confused.
The hunters were not that amused.
Though something charged by,
In the blink of an eye,
Their deadly efforts would not be refused.
 
Having had their first shots deterred,
They refocused, regrouped and conferred.
Dug themselves in,
Retried once again,
And took aim at the pachyderm herd.
 
Suddenly the earth shook and swayed,
The hunters turned, looked in dismay.
Toward them rumbling loud,
Came an enormous tumbling cloud,
And sharp horns of a rhino parade.
 
Without time to regress or refrain,
And no one but themselves to blame,
The hunters bid adieu,
Then backed off and flew,
Leaving guns and sought after game.
 
When the clouds of dust had all cleared,
Two crowds of musk appeared.
They stood tusk to face,
Each distinctive race,
Then both elephants and rhinos all cheered.
 
As a great celebration began,
The rhinos regathered their clan.
But off to the side,
Attempting to hide,
Was the albino rhino that first ran.
 
Together with horns and trunks raised,
The two herds offered honor and praise,
To the Albino Rhino,
They all now loved so,
For his courage and unselfish ways.
 
As for his precious pink friend,
The rhino remained loyal to the end.
Despite her big ears,
She never had fears,
Of standing out in a crowd again.
 
The moral of this story should make sense,
Don't worry if you have a difference.
God's creatures are born,
With all features and forms,
What counts is the love you dispense.


Copyright © June 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
061310

Tsunami Wake Reprise

This is a first attempt at a form of Haiku called a Renga. The format is 5-7-5 / 7-7 / 5-7-5 / 7-7 / 5-7-5 / 7-7 / 5-7-5 / 7-7 / 5-7-5 / 7-7. Not sure if they're intended to rhyme. Hope it works...

Mega thrust earthquake / Early morning violent shake / Victims not awake

Oceanic sea floor break / Seismographic second take

Massive tidal wake / Uncertainty, real or fake? / Prewarning mistake

Indonesian fear outbreak / Sri Lankan shores lie in wake

CNN newsbreak / Quarter million lives at stake / Viewer breath intake?

Misery, widespread heartache / Outcome bleak, future opaque

Please God don't forsake / Those caught in Tsunami's wake / Help for Heaven's sake

Ease suffering and heartbreak / No more lives destruction take.

All asked to partake / In a Worldwide mourning wake / For disaster's sake.

Retrospective take / In aftermath's five-year wake / Faith it did not take.

Copyright © May 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

050210

The Scent of Summer Rain

I love the scent of a summer rain,
When it's been overdue,
It cleanses away pollen stains,
Left speckled by morning dew.

It quenches thirsts for subtlety,
It eases mental strains.
It's essence has a stale fragrency,
That pleases idle brains.

It softens sun baked window panes,
Clears soil caked, dusty feet.
So often it's unjustly blamed,
For rivers in urban streets.

My soul is cleansed of temperate pain
As it pours in tearful sheets,
An effervescent cool refrain,
From morbid summer heat.

Often provoked by hurricanes,
They rinse dullness from pale blue skies.
Violent Tornado and Cyclone remains,
Causing streams and rivers to rise.

Drizzles sweet as sugar cane,
Nature's waterfall overflows,
Hailstones in it's quake proclaim,
Majestically arched rainbows.

I yearn for dawn's passionate disdain,
The rumble of turbulent skies,
Those days when thunderhead clouds contain,
Teardrops for weathered eyes.

Burdens wash down bubbling drains,
Leaving skies vibrantly blue.
They still a mind's quiet refrain.
Make the whole world feel brand new.



Copyright © May 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
051110

Summer Signs

The sweet smell of honeysuckle,

Dampened by the rain.

Drips of morning dew running,

Down a window pane.

A symphony of water fowl,

Frogs and nesting birds,

Synchronize, then harmonize.

In melody, not words.

Crisp and cool, storm-filtered air,

A soft and gentle breeze,

Life stirring everywhere,

As far as eyes can see.

As the morning sun rise,

Breaks above the trees

I suddenly realize,

What summer means to me.

~!~

T-shirts, shorts, no more shoes,

Fancy grills and barbecues.

The smell of flowers and fresh cut grass,

Fishing for hours for trout or bass.

Baseball and Concerts after dark,

Amusement, Theme and Water-parks,

Dairy Queen and dreamsicles,

Homemade ice cream, popsicles.

Thunderstorms and scattered drizzles.

Boyhood laughs and girlish giggles.

Swimming pools and water holes,

No more school, just fishing poles.

Ice cold beer and bottled wine.

Longer days, come rain or shine.

Grapes picked straight from the vine.

Teeth carved out of watermelon rind.

Picking wild blackberries,

Whipped cream over strawberries.

Blueberries and fresh cherries,

Snow Balls, Cones and Mr. Freeze.

Fresh tomatoes and vegetables,

From homegrown gardens to tables.

Picture perfect, clear blue skies,

Beaches, burgers, boardwalk fries.

Peach cobblers and apple pies.

Mosquitos, ants and fireflies.

Picnics and the 4th of July,

Memories that never die,

Family gatherings, vacation times.

A poetic collage of summer signs.

Copyright © May 2010

Kevin Mooney

kmm0010

50110

A Dog

Boy and man's best friend,
A virtual living trend,
Mix of canine blends.



Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

042910

The Stars (A Haiku)

Celestial Sea,
Astrologic Canopy,
Einstein's specialty.


Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
042910

Natas L. Useifer

Natas L. Useifer was a lanky, fair-skinned lad,
He was often ridiculed,
For the peculiar name he had.
Kids found him an easy target,
For the silly names they hurled.
But things were never what they seemed,
In Natas Useifer's world.

See Natas was born on the 6th of June, in 1966,
A Monday morning like any other,
He arrived at 6:06.
He never knew his father,
His mother was seldom seen.
No brothers, no sisters, no Aunts or Uncles,
He was quite an independent teen.

He had long, coal blackish hair
And deep-set, piercing eyes,
Wore spectacles and old, dark wear,
Like a Halloween disguise.
He had bony fingers with pointed nails,
Sharp chin and protruding brow.
Was slight of build, seemed somewhat frail,
Meek yet scary somehow.

The other kids made fun of him
And his fiendishly creepy ways,
He was often teased at school,
Called geek or freak or gay.
They found Natas quite naive,
When it came to social rules.
Found ways to belittle and torture him,
Ways often very cruel.

One day John Bates played a dirty trick,
Made Natas look like a fool.
Natas got this scary look.
But never lost his cool.
He gave John an evil stare,
One that curled the skin.
Bates just smiled, he didn't care,
Ignored his sinister grin.

At gym that day, while most kids played,
Nothing else was said.
But when the teacher looked away,
A tree limb hit John's head,
No one seemed to see it happen,
He just layed, then minutes later,
John Bates was pronounced dead.

Everyone gathered 'round John's body,
To mourn their fallen friend,
He'd walked over to retrieve a ball.
No one ever saw what happened.
Who knew that the limb would fall?
All that anyone could remember,
Was a sudden gust of wind.

Some kids looked right at Natas,
Wondered where he'd been.
Questioned if he'd been involved,
Had somehow made it happen.
All that anyone could recall,
Was him sitting on a bench,
Several yards from it all,
Eyes shut, fists tightly clenched.

Natas L. Useifer was never held to blame,
The death was ruled an accident,
An act of God, a shame.
As for Natas, if he weren't innocent,
He would never tell.
He just grinned that evil grin,
And wished old John Bates well.


Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
042910

Tornado

Cone-shaped, funneled wind,
Vortex wrought with destruction.
Twister, Cyclone kin.



Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

042610

The Moon

Night sky's lunar light,
Ever-changing, bright and white,
Man and child's dream flight.



Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

042610

The Boss

Grew up blinded by the city's bright lightT
Reigned supreme in Freehold's Branch BorougH.
Early success with A Park and E ShufflE
Earned him nicknames Doctor and B.
Tenth avenue froze out his Earth band triO,
It was Run that brought out the criticS.
New Jersey's son left no Backstreets with doubtS,
Got Rosalita out, both live and in studiO,
Streets of Fire and Dark Side were prooF.

Fostered a Bad and Promised Land hiT,
River was double the fun to play witH,
Out in the Street he was always On FirE,
Made Courtney Cox the whole world's desirE.

All Born in the US Danced in his streetS
Shared Spirits nightly with the fans he would meeT.
Brought his Hometown to each American's front dooR
Used folk and rock style to forge every scorE,
Revelled with Glory Days and Tunnels of LovE,
Youngstown and Joad made audiences erupT

Painted Empty Skies with each brash Rising verB
All working men rise to his raucous personaA
Revered Pop Icon from fan to faN
King of folk rockers and JunglelanD.

Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

042610

Ray of Sunshine (Haiku)

Breaks the dawn of days,
Pieces darkness and drawn shades,
At dusk fades away.

Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

042010

Rainbow Haiku

Arch across skyline,
Storm's mirage made from sunshine,
Leprechaun's gold mine.



Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

042010

Let's All Pause

Let's all pause, give a round of applause,
To those, for us, that serve.
Our reverence,
Our countenance,
Give thanks most well deserved.

Share your love and support,
Praise their gallantry.
Their due respect,
Don't neglect,
Their pride and dignity.

Sing the Anthem, Bang the drums,
Let them know you care.
Form a crowd,
Shout out loud,
Make the world aware.

For Freedom's sake, don't hesitate,
The end is almost near.
The path we choose,
Our attitudes,
Are what control our fears.

Resolve the peace, complete release,
Let's celebrate with praise.
And when it ends
Let's all be friends,
God Bless the USA.

Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

041810

Butterfly Requiem

Nestled in a worn cocoon,
Hidden from the light.
I work all day,
To find a way,
To make it through the night.

A silk vacuum, maternal womb,
Woven to conceal.
My sole being,
Beyond seeing,
The emotions that I feel.

I'm constricted, arms restricted,
Pinned tight at my side.
I try to squirm,
Like a worm,
There's no place to hide.

Suddenly reality,
Disturbs my private hell.
I'm aware
of a tare,
In my outer shell.

I deliberate, then agitate,
Wiggle to get free.
Semi-conscious,
My response is,
To fight for liberty.

I hesitate to escape,
Force my way on through,
Scenes flash by,
Before my eyes,
Of feelings I once knew.

Then the shackles that once bound me,
Are finally loose then shed.
I tentatively,
Stretch to see,
Shake cobwebs from my head.

I peel away the formed decay,
That was my resting home.
To my surprise,
I realize,
I am not alone.

For there around me, souls surround me,
Millions of cocoons.
I just stare,
Now aware,
Of all God's woven tombs.

I stretch my arms, to my alarm,
They're now two different things.
It's funny when,
One life ends,
God honors it with wings.





Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney


kmm001
041810

Me and My Old Man

I remember my old man and what he meant to me,
It seemed like he was always there,
He died at 63.
I see his face in the mirror, each time I look at me.
The image of a long lost friend,
I miss terribly.
Ever since I could talk I can picture him.
He was there when I first walked,
With a great big grin.
He taught me how to ride a bike, ran right by my side,
Provided all the things I liked,
And wisdom to decide.
He taught me baseball, was my coach, my mentor and my guide,
Was the one that cheered me most,
With confidence and pride.
He presented life's uncertainties, taught me right from wrong,
We talked about the birds and bees,
Shared love of sport and song.
He helped me enjoy school work, the value of good grades,
He was there despite his work,
His long and busy days.
He laughed when I was happy, cried when I was sad,
Was always there to comfort me,
In good times and in bad.
The day I finished high school, his eyes welled up with tears,
When I got my college degree,
It settled hopes and fears.
The day I met my wife to be and brought her home to him,
I could see his pride in me,
His warm, approving grin.
The day I walked down the isle I was 33,
I remember his big smile,
And what it meant to me.
When my first son arrived my dad turned 59.
Despite his heart, he survived,
A grandson one more time.
The day my dad passed away it was morning, around 8:00.
I received a call that day,
In October '98.
I went to be by his side but he had passed and gone.
I tried so hard not to cry,
Keep my strong face on.
Lying there with a distant stare and sober peace of mind.
I couldn't help but compare,
My dad's past life to mine.
In his time my old man had very few faults to find.
The day he died my new clock began,
I was 39.


Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
041710

Porcelain Seagull

Silly salty sea bird
See him surf and sail.
Wide wet webbed feet,
Wild whimsical tail.
Soft sultry feathers.
Sharp shifty eyes,
Weathering wicked weather,
Climbing cool clear skies.
White breasted angel,
Grey winged friend,
Glide aggressive angles,
Catch festive winds.
Duck-like yellow feet,
Eagle-like bald white head.
Hawk-like bent, pointed beak,
Yellow, touched with red.
Sentry, skilled scavenger,
Sea faring famous fowl,
For centuries a ravager,
At stern, port or bow.
Their Caw's quite distinctive,
It breaks a beachside lull,
Their cause quite instinctive,
The porcelain Seagull.


Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney


kmm001
041610

aka Richard Bachman

Maine's most prolific author,
Yet nearly missed his call.
Self-made though almost a pauper,
Tabitha liked in him what she saw.
Early on wrote Nightshift short stories,
Reaped fame with Carrie's first prom.
Years of struggle and mental frustration,



Augmented tales of where It came from.
Never took a Shining to Colorado,
Despite Jerusalem's published success.



Had to Stand on his New England bravado,
Or Stand By the lifestyle he knew best.
Raked in his fortune by forty.
Richard Bachman became a pen name.
Oh how Christine and Cujo adorned him,
Resurrection was Pet Sematary's claim.



Walking on Route 5 in Lovell,
Recklessly rendered him semi-lame.
In Misery he found it a foreshadow,
The Green Mile was where several thoughts came.
Earned raves with Shawshank's clear redemption,
Reveled in Claiborne's acclaimed fame.










Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney




kmm001
041610

Juniper Jason Paul

The world was small to Juniper Paul,
Life to him was a bore.
He traveled the world, had seen it all,
Had everything he ever wished for.
See Juniper was a wealthy man,
Richer than ever need be.
His family left him money and land,
When they died he was just twenty-three.
He loved to travel, been round the world.
It was by far his favorite thing.
By airplane or boat, no matter the mode,
He lived his life like a King.
He dabbled in art and fancy race cars,
Wore gold and fine tailored suits.
Was instantly seated at restaurants and bars,
Adored diamonds and snakeskin boots.
He was the envy of enemies and paparazzi,
They all dreamed of being like him.
Where most drew the line between restraint and greed,
J. Paul's obsessions would begin.
Yes, life was a ball for Juniper Paul,
There was only one aspect he lacked.
The love of a another, someone to call,
His soul-mate, best friend, his better half.
No, Juniper Jason Paul never married,
Never had feelings for another.
He couldn't find time, toward love he was blind,
Never cared, never shared or ever bothered.
Though he was rich in fortune and name,
He was poor where life mattered most.
Old Juniper Jason Paul soon became,
A Mr. Potter, an Ebenezer, a ghost.




Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney


kmm001
041510

A Bottle in the Sand

As I walked along the shore
The rhythmic gyration of undeterred waves,
Cleared the steps I left behind me,
My trail of footprints were washed to the sea.

It brought to mind how faded memories,
Of loved ones passed on and good times once had,
Wear away with Father Time's relentless,
Erosion of thoughts locked deep in my head.

Before me breakers created new pavement,
Bore possibilities, new unexplored land.
A fresh new horizon developed before me,
An endless beginning with no visible end.

Along the shore I found a bottle,
Buried neck high in a fresh wash of sand.
In it a note, untouched by the elements,
Your new life starts here was all that it said.


Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
040610

The Day The Apostles Cried

Sit with me in silence friends,
Share with me this bread.
Still the voice that violence sends,
Searing through your head.

Each of you must seek accord
for the life you live.
Every man can ill afford
To die and not forgive.

Pass the retribution,
Hear what's not been said.
Bear life's borne confusion,
As feeble minds are fed.

Let's bow our heads and not forget,
What brought us here today.
Drink my blood, the tables set,
Let's all join hands and pray.

Father bless us for we have sinned,
It's in our DNA.
Each man here's new life begins,
On this blessed day.

I am but your vessel Father,
A means to reach an end.
Besought, betrayed, bereft of bother,
Chastised by my close friends.

Forgive them Lord for they are weak,
Their destiny's contrived.
Heal them for it's You they seek,
To eternally to survive.

Oh my Father, hear my prayer,
Let me bear their sin.
They're but children, unaware,
They'll only sin again.

In solemn eyes help me rise,
Above the wrong that's been.
Resurrect the calm effect,
That once defined good men.
Amen.

Now let's feast one last time,
Let God be our guide.
Heed at least one less crime,
Through faith in Him confide.

Each man carries his own burden,
Life's no piece of cake.
Nothing given, nothing certain,
We're bound to make mistakes.

Look around any table,
Examine each man's pride.
In the end men must be able,
To reach down deep inside.

Jesus bore man's transgressions,
He suffered and he died.
He taught forgiveness, sought confessions,
The day the apostles cried.



Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
033110

Love's The Common Key

A wedding poem. Think of There Is Love by Paul Stookey of Peter, Paul and Mary.

Let the spirit guide you as new life begins.
In our Father's eyes two joined as one are more than friends.
A gathering of angels rejoices in your name,
As those that stand beside you fan life's eternal flame.

A heart beats stronger when it's loved, has one to gaze upon.
Two hearts beat longer when united, they form a sacred bond.
The blending of two kindred spirits is something to behold,
As man and woman merge as one, heaven's bells are tolled.

So why should two in love conjoin in spirit and in faith?
Does matrimony infer commitment, pave the road we take?
Can a vow and ring ensure true bliss and harmony?
True love is forged through resolve and humility.

The Lord provides improvise for those who trust in him.
The strength and will that He supplies starts where trust begins.
Marriage is the threshold across which new life starts.
A sacred boundary that surrounds two committed hearts.

A man in need of purpose embarks upon a quest,
A woman's thoughts soon turn maternal, she seeks to build a nest.
Paths don't cross that often, most ships pass silently,
When two lives are synchronized, love's the common key.

Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

033010

Rain (A Haiku)

April's shower kind,
Teardrops nature leaves behind,
Life's sustaining wine.



Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

032210

March (A Haiku)

Time to welcome Spring,
Cherish that which nature brings,
Savor all new things.


Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

032210

An Ant Haiku/Acrostic

Army colonized nests.
Nature's toughest six-leg guests,
Turf and picnic pests.


Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

031210

Reflections

Reflections form a tapestry,
Of what once was and what might be.
Panoramic artistry,
Runs parallel endlessly.
Castles lined on fringless shores,
Stretch for miles toward evermore.

In between, a dark blue sea,
Divides two worlds equally.

Clouds disguise clear blue skies,
Conceal what's real to covered eyes.
Temporal breaks form cumulus wakes,
Mental quakes cause twists and shakes.
Grey tinged whites reveal dark knights.
While scattered storms gather might.

What you feel and what you see,
Aren't the same necessarily.

What is real and what affect?
Do rainbows ever intersect?
Time stands still in silhouettes,
Mine filled fields haunt weary vets.
Hallucinations resurrect,
Illusions men just soon forget.

Cerebral thoughts and tendencies,
All get lost in fantasies.

Mirrors forge what others see,
They store man's hypocrisies,
Fading echoes of forgotten times,
Shade dark shadows in broken minds.
Existence wanes across blue seas.
Wrist restraints fit you and me.

Within the depths, tranquility.
Cross thin lines, you might be free.

A mind entwined in fallacies,
Will resign to apathy.
Thoughts define one's sanity,
Veils confine serenity.
What's denied is what will be,
Try and find a remedy?

Upon inspection you might see,
Perfection's serendipity.

The sun may shine eternally,
While minds unwind internally.
Perceptions bind reality,
They can't refine finality.

Life is not eternity,
A perpetual fraternity.
One exception just might be,
Resurrection's sanctity.

Connections to man's prophesies,
Are reflections of what blind men see.



Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

031110

The Last Wizard

Winning seemed easy, its what this Sorcerer kneW,
Ordained boilermaker from PerduE.
Often revered for his zeal and prowesS,
Detail and basics were what he taught besT.
Endured wife's passing with grace and sorroW,
Nicknamed Rubber Man for his on court bravadO.
Only player and coach ever honored sO,
Forged his legacy down Naismith's college roaD.
Ultimate American like apple pie and PBJ,
Called The Wizard wherever he would gO.
Longest winning streak, went 88 and oH,
All-time great coach, father figure and maN.


Copyright © June 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
060510

Shadows Loom

Shadows loom in empty rooms,
Where seven sisters died.
Gold deblumes and witches brooms,
Are all that's left behind.

Black roses bloom among mushrooms,
Faint voices turn to cries.
Eerie tunes amidst dark runes,
Greet innocent passersby.

Stories told by mystics old,
Illuminate the blind.
Signs foretold and hidden scrolls,
Are left for men to find.

Satan's spell's are known to well,
To law abiding men.
A sudden quell will often tell,
The righteous from the sin.

Those that lie must hereby,
Repent and then give in.
If they try to just get by,
The Dark Lord will have their skin.

Water flumes and peacock plumes,
Give way to worms and flies.
Werewolves croon at the moon,
As spirits whisper by.

Among the tombs and catacombs,
The corpses of men lie.
Amidst their realm dark shadows loom,
While the dead learn to fly.

Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm

031110