Those Short Eyes

This is my contribution to the Original Poetry Wooden forum competition on child abuse prevention. Sorry if it offends...


Short Eyes: a pedophile, or one who is jailed for child molestation


I see eyes looking at me.
Innocent eyes, tenderly.
Brilliant eyes, calling me.
Children' eyes, dauntingly.

I see eyes staring at me.
Icy eyes, glaringly.
Sinister eyes, wanting me.
Piercing eyes, haunting me.

Innocent child,
Innocent eyes.
Radiant smile,
Quiet and shy.

Come and sit with me a while.
I'm a friendly pedophile.
I'm an evil that lurks and festers,
I'm the Devil, a child molester.

Where's your father?
Where's your mother?
Do you have a sister or a brother?

Make a wish,
I insist.
Look, I have a special gift.

Be aware,
Do not stare.
Will you let me touch you there?

Do not yell,
Never tell,
Crawl into your little shell.

Ball into your private hell.

What a surprise,
Such beautiful eyes,
Can I caress inside your thighs?

Don't mind my sweat,
I like it wet.
Will you be my special pet?

Here one sec,
Gone the next.
You never know what to expect.

You're never going to forget.

Children beware,
Of strangers' stares.
Be conscious of their hidden lairs.

Don't be blind,
Know the signs,
They come in many shapes and kinds.

Their short eyes, are their disguise.
Be vigilant and recognize.
Confident and extra wise.

Know they're out there, everywhere.
Lying, hiding, always there.

Know that someone out there cares.
Trying, fighting for your care.

Don't be afraid to ask or share.
Don't be afraid of your fear.

Don't give in to strangers' lies?
Yell for help, vocalize.
Run and hide, to survive.
Tell someone about the guy.
It doesn't matter what your size,
Don't become his next prize.

A permanent, living, breathing prize.

Somewhere, out there, freedom lies,
Beyond their grasp, binds and ties.
Reach for those you recognize,
Don't speak or go with those short eyes.


Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
103010

October

This is for my dad...

Its that time of year again,
When nature sheds its skin.
Leaves turn brown,
Hit the ground,
Decay and then blend in.

Its a time to gather,
Harvest family and friends.
To recollect,
Pay respect,
Count blessings and make amends.

Its a time to plow and reap,
Clear fields and restore.
Time to save,
What you crave,
Then pray to God for more.

Its when young couples marry,
Brand new lives begin.
Heartfelt praise,
On wedding days,
Become much more than friends.

Its when those passed are buried,
Fond memories laid to rest.
When grounds are sewn,
With those we've known,
Fall's fertile soils are blessed.

Its a time of reflection,
To prepare for life to end.
To recognize,
To realize,
Just how good life has been.

Its a time of contemplation,
Of what you value most.
Tranquility,
Serendipity,
Thank the Holy Ghost.

October's always meant to me,
A good time to atone.
A season when,
My best friend,
Set out on his own.

Fall's a solemn season,
Warm somber feelings, sad.
That time of year,
Of hope and fear,
When God took home my dad.


Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
102310

Dear Mom...

I had a friend who was adopted and never knew his biological mother.  He's a Christian with strong, anti-abortion beliefs.  This a letter written by him to her.

Thank you for my birthday,
And all those in between.
I often wonder where I'd be,
If you had not had me.
Though I never knew you,
Or the father that you made,
I think about you all the time,
And the price you paid.

I know I was a burden,
Something you did wrong.
When you're young life's uncertain,
I'm glad that you were strong.
The life you bore and gave me,
Might not have ever been,
If you had never saved me,
And God had not stepped in.

Mother can you hear me,
I wonder if you can.
Though another raised me,
I'm still who I am.
I foster no ill feelings,
Hold no one at fault.
I've learned a valued lesson,
One I was never taught.

I have a new perspective,
How precious life can be.
I am more receptive,
To others just like me.
Mine is a unique view,
Of what life truly means.
Had it not been for you,
I never would have seen...

The beauty of a sunrise,
The solitude of rain.
The innocence in childrens' eyes,
The way the seasons change.
The colors of a rainbow,
The moon and stars at night.
The silhouettes of distant mountains,
Against the day's last light.

Mom, know that I still love you,
And bear no hidden scar.
The children that now call me dad,
Ask me who you are.
I tell them you are special,
The mom I never knew.
That because you made a choice,
I am here for you.


Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
100810

Glen Echo Amusement Park

This poem is written for the accompanying new painting of the same name, by the artist Paul McGehee. Paul is a brilliant local artist from the Washington, D.C. area whose forte is creating moments in time on canvass. I encourage everyone to checkout his website and art at http://www.paulmcgeheeart.com/mainframe.shtml. He's also on facebook.  Note the painstaking detail in his paintings. I'm sure you'll find poetic inspiration through his works.


Remember those days,
That twiddled away,
Those days spent with family and friends?
Bright sunny days,
With warm summer rays,
Those days you never wanted to end?

I can recall,
A park near Great Falls,
One with a grand carousel.
With Coaster Dips,
Flying Scooter trips,
And the popcorn they used to sell.

My parents and I,
Before they both died,
Would visit 2 or 3 times a year.
Nestled quaintly,
Outside of D.C.,
Where the Potomac and C&O run near

A post card demo,
Of live Art Deco,
Where artists and bands would appear.
With picnic grounds,
And merry go rounds,
Puppet shows that brought children cheer.

A nostalgic lark,
Lit up after dark,
The musical sounds you would hear.
The Spanish Ballroom,
And Calliope tunes,
And the Wurlitzer Organ-ere.

A century old scene,
Pastoral, serene,
A dream of entertainment and art.
Step back in time,
And magically find,
Glen Echo Amusement Park.


Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
100810

Stop The Drama

Stop the drama, Mr. Osama,
You're never gonna win.
One day God will find a way,
To payback all your sin.

The world's a better place you see,
As long as you're a refugee.
Good will win in the end,
Justice will prevail.

Stop the drama, Mr. Obama,
False promises you send.
We all pray for the day,
We all work again.

We've lost our hope and dignity,
Playing games of wait and see.
How much worse can worse be?
We shout to no avail.

Stop the drama, Mr. Osama,
We no longer care.
Your the face of Islamic disgrace,
Stir hate everywhere.

One day we will find you,
Huddled in your scorn.
That's when we'll remind you,
Of that September morn.

Stop the Drama, Mr. Obama,
Do what you foretold.
The politics make us sick,
The rhetoric's getting old.

We all want the wars to end,
Give us back our children.
Let God be the judge of them,
Do what's right and fair.

Stop the drama, Dalai Lama,
Can't we all be friends?
Find a way to take away,
The suffering of men.

Let us find peace of mind,
Help all heartbreaks mend.
We all search for better times,
Can't you tell us when?

Stop the drama, Mr. Obama,
Lead us back again.
Rise above like a dove,
In search of new dry land.

I suppose the man we chose,
Is not the one who won.
Don't give in and bow to those,
To whom you're bound to run.

Stop the drama, if you want to,
Be the best you can.
Faith's the cure to endure,
God is your best friend.

All our dreams and all our hopes
Struggles with which we all cope,
There's no better anecdote,
Then fortitude and prayer.

Seek salvation for our nation,
Prosperity and care.
Love thy neighbor without waver,
Know that God is there.



Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
100710

Downpour (a psalm)

Whenever life's constant grind seems to get you down. Turn to God and you will find no better friend around. This is a psalm for those that feel completely overwhelmed...

Lord, wash away my sorrows,
Cleanse me to my core.
Ease the heartaches that I swallow,
Pave the path you'd have me follow,
Prepare me for those tomorrows,
I may see no more.

Lord, I rest within thy word,
Commit to thy control.
Though my vision may be blurred,
My faith will never be deterred,
Eternal life through thoust assured,
To you submit my soul.

Lord, everyday the sun does rise,
Though clouds may taint my view.
I take solace you are wise,
Forgive my sins and countless lies,
Love me without compromise,
Make my life anew.

Lord, when the rain will not refrain,
Life's troubles have no end.
Give me strength to sustain,
The fortitude to not complain,
The will to rise above the pain,
To survive and win.

Lord, in the end your my best friend,
The one that I turn to.
Through mental storms' relentless winds,
Life's downpours and endless sins,
Let death not be where my life ends,
I place my trust in You.


Copyright © September 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
093010

BD Boulevard

There's place on the edge of town,
Where spirits often gather.
They appear when no ones around,
To share and drink together.
Entities of personalities,
Hollywood's hallowed names.
Eternity's celebrities,
Heaven's walk of fame.
They fantasize and reminisce,
About good times and the bad.
They drink to lives they all miss,
Drown sorrows each one's had.
The bar is lined with Father Time's,
Ghosts of darkened screens.
They raise their glasses synchronized,
Toast fan hearkened scenes.
If one happens to catch a glimpse,
For one fleeting split second.
In the blink of eye they dispense,
Into wisps of plasmic essence.
Outside bright lights and neon signs,
Cast shadows and hope-filled beams.
While honored stars seek encores,
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.


Copyright © September 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
093010