Faceless Child

Teen suicide runs rampant these days. I never quite understand what motivates a child to take his or her own life. It's a sad reality and seems to be getting worse. Look for the signs and be vigilant. Someone may be quietly reaching out to you....

Child of wonder, bore preciously. A gift from God, statistically. A bundled joy of hopes and dreams, A faceless doll with broken seams.   Like a million ants appearing magically, drawn to the perfumed scent of verminal stench, of potato rot, flicked cigarettes and tater tots. Wanted, needed...discarded, unheeded. A constant burden, caught in a turnstile of mundane gyrations. Laughing sadly, wanting badly, crying gladly, glaring madly. Needing to be held together... with tape and Elmer's glue. Never taken seriously...in need of bear hugs and kisses. Lost self-esteem, found visine - persecution, blame, tempted to feel...bloated, blistered. Trying to fit in...to size 48 jeans - bell-bottoms, extra-wide loops. Cursing, hurting myself while the world watches quietly, ignorantly, calmly, blindly. Aroused, cared for, a temporary solution...of vodka and tonic. Tangerine Listerine, iced cold chlorine. A quiet place. Secluded, poluted. Sequestered, serene. A permanent escape, only illusionary, Contusionary, quite contrary. A happy space with velvet walls and purple passion fruit, cellophane mirrors, twinkling ceiling stars and chimney soot. Mindless adventures, never leaving my room...filled with thoughts of injustice, laughter...of the sinister kind. Trusted blinders on my eyes' windows, the venetian kind...portals to a world I can't understand, Can't cope with, find reason...for living, for dying, forgiving, denying. I am a marionette pulled by strings that disappear into clouds of mental anguish. Led to believe, bred to conceive, to repent. To wade through a cesspool-ed, Cubic-led, tunnel of escape. Wanting to feel, alive with purpose, with compassion, with meaning...to call my friends. Forgetting what it's all about, What the future holds..in doubt. Reaching for solutions...of vodka and tonic, Listerine and grenadine, NyQuil, Dayquil, Turpentine jellybeans. I am a child, a faceless child, suffering from... Imperfection, neglect-ion, seeking resurrection. Conformity, sobriety, A permanent vacation...from society. Don't laugh at me, don't cry for me... Out loud, insanely, profanely. Understand, this was all unplanned...carefully. Thought out, but spur-of-the-moment. It'll only hurt...the one's I love and those I thought I did. I am invincible, invisible, impermeably broken. My well laid plan cannot withstand, Scrutiny, starvation, incarceration. My blessed room, my cubicle tomb. The place I run and hide. I am a butterfly out of season. I have reached my peak. My wings are tired. I have conspired. It's tranquility I seek. A step-stooled stairway to heaven, or hell. It's hard to tell. I cannot dwell...or linger any longer. Just 2 steps to salvation's creation, to the edge of being... Bitter persuasion, contemplation, perpetuation. The tension's there, a mindless stare. Thoughts are running everywhere. I don't care. I hear music...muffled commotion, silent emotion... a tingling sensation, a last temptation. Standing on the threshold of a dream, Reality, a viable escape. Afraid, curious, defiant. Committed, serious, reliant. A final step toward eternity. The terminal plunge, the taut...lesson of life, The inevitable loss of...everything I've ever striven for. Consciousness, then realization, cold pervasion. The pain is minimal, never really there. I hear the final footsteps...of a life gone by, Slowly slipping away. My mind is drifting, still intact, Circling a drain of cerebral black. My feet are dangling. I am floating on air. Uninhibited, undenied, walking on a cloud 2 feet high. Stretching eagerly for another side. My world is fading, disappearing... Right before my very eyes. I am drifting down a river of solitude. Relaxation is seeping in, As I extend toward an approaching light. Darkness prevails, resistance curtails, No more struggles... To fight the demons I have learned to embrace. I am now free of the torment, confusion, resolution. My need to escape subsides...behold, peace. I am now truly alive.   I was a child with hopeless dreams. Bore preciously, raised normally. Caught in a whirlwind's soliloquy. A blemish of burden to those I met, An incurable disease, unwashable speck. A faceless child that no one sees, On bended knees, With crooked neck.

Copyright © July 2009 Kevin Mooney  

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101509

The Final Tour

This poem was written to describe and compliment the accompanying work of art by the popular new age artist, Jon Pitre called Heaven. You may want to look closely at the painting before your read the poem.


Everyone have your tickets ready,
The tours about to start.
Stay behind the bright white line,
Please don't drift apart.
Anyone with children,
Should step to the front of the line.
Help a child that's alone,
So they're not left behind.

Okay now, we're going to begin,
Tickets if you please.
Slowly step to the front, get in.
You might at first feel squeezed.
Everyone ready? Great, let's go.
Hold the railings tight.
Those of you in the middle.
Hold the person to your right.

It will only take a minute,
For us to reach the top.
The car moves fast yet pretty smooth,
And comes to a gradual stop.
Here we are, now everyone,
Slowly step outside.
You may feel a little dizzy,
We're up pretty high.

All of you look straight ahead,
See that twinkling light?
That's our destination friends,
Isn't it a wonderful sight?
Some confuse those vapors,
With ordinary clouds.
Actually they're a billion souls,
All wrapped in soft white shrouds.

Now you may be noticing,
All the bubble cells.
How they seem to replicate,
Grow bubbles within themselves.
These are both birthing places,
And where those passed now dwell.
This is where one's spirit goes,
Unless it goes to hell.

If you look very closely,
Within each bubble's core,
You'll see a very intense light,
And wonder what that's for.
That's is where creation starts,
That's where life begins.
That's where we all come from,
And where our lives will end.

See all the bubbles, big and small,
They dominate the sky.
Some are floating to and fro,
While others just pass by.
And within each and every bubble,
Someone's born and dies,
It's every human's life cycle,
No need to wonder why.

And as the bubbles drift away,
They lose their clarity.
Each core's bright intense light,
Is all that's left to see.
They become vestal spheres,
Of who we were and are.
Each a person's life-lived years,
Blends into the stars.

You may wonder what this means?
How it effects you.
The reality is that you're here,
To see as those passed do.
We're only moving forward friends,
There's no turning back.
You've all lived exemplary lives,
Please be assured of that.

For what lies here before you,
No mortal man can see.
You have crossed the threshold,
Of immortality.
This is Heaven, your new home,
There's no door or gate.
You'll not suffer or be alone,
It's every good soul's fate

Once inside you'll realize,
How good your life has been.
You'll look God straight in the eyes,
Then give yourself to him.
There's no turning back now,
No consequence or cure.
Here my friends, your first life ends,
This is the Final Tour.





Copyright © May 2010
Kevin Mooney


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050110

Walter Augustus Lee

People always touted him,
Walter Augustus Lee.
No one ever doubted him,
Or his sincerity.

He was there to give advise,
You never had to ask him twice.
There was never one as nice,
As Walter Augustus Lee.

Those he knew respected him,
Saw all good reflect in him,
Wanted to connect with him,
And his prosperity.

He always cared for those with less,
Treated them as honored guests.
Sought good will and happiness,
For all society.

He gave away most he had,
Comforted the weak and sad.
Seemed content, never mad,
As far as most could see.

He never turned a heedless eye.
Minced his words for reasons why.
Yes, there was not a nicer guy,
Than Walter Augustus Lee.

Life then took a sudden turn,
Exposed a frailty.
What seemed at first a mere heartburn,
Turned out worse, you see.

Doctors probed and ran some tests,
Bi-pass surgery seemed the best.
When they discovered the seriousness,
They let poor Walter be.

No one came to comfort him,
In his time of need.
He'd wait for God to come for him,
With solemn dignity.

As his last days passed him by,
He just prayed, not asking why,
He knew one day soon he'd die,
Alone and quietly.

Though all his life he had shared,
It seemed as if no one cared.
And so it was no one was there,
When Walter bid goodbye.

I never knew someone who could,
Praise the way he did.
I never really understood,
The final days he lived.

A righteous man with tender hands,
Who always did the best he can.
Somehow seemed a lesser man,
In posterity.

Poor Walter Augustus Lee.


Copyright © December 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
120410

I Took My Friend...

I took my friend to see the doctor,

He was feeling bad.

The doctor told me what was wrong,

What little time he had.

I looked my friend in the eye,

Could not find words to explain.

Tears welled up as I tried,

To ease his incurable pain.

The doctor told me all I could do,

Was comfort him and wait.

I watched the life in his eyes,

Fade then dissipate.

I bid farewell through my tears,

Told him it would be fine.

I loved him dearly, for so many years,

That beautiful friend of mine.

I didn't realize how much I cared,

How little time we had.

When I took my friend to be with the lord,

The best friend I ever had.

RIP Niles
December 2003 - March 2014

Copyright © April 2014
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
0420714

A Death Poem

Have you seen Soylent Green?
How 'bout Logan's Run?
Life's not always as it seems,
It ends for everyone.

Imagine finding your name written,
In an obituary.
Or seeing it etched in stone,
In some old cemetery.

What if you saw your body,
In a mortuary?
Or woke up to hear somebody
Recite your eulogy?

If you had the right to choose,
How you'd want to die,
Would you go quickly, in your sleep,
Or suffer wondering why?

Would you die while in the sky,
Falling with no chute?
Or half insane in a crashing plane,
Wearing a brand new suit?

Would you drown upside down,
Aboard a sinking ship?
Or burn and cower in a falling tower,
That a plane just hit?

How 'bout from a shark attack,
While swimming in the sea?
Or from a heart attack,
That happens suddenly?

How 'bout from disease or cancer,
Something with no cure?
How 'bout if you know the answer,
When you'll die for sure?

These are questions often pondered,
The older that we get.
Most would rather just live longer,
Do things they haven't yet.

I suppose no one knows,
When their time will come.
We all should live each day as though,
Today is our last one.


Copyright © January 2011
Kevin Mooney

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The Face of Death

I walk the streets late at night,
I know who you are,
I know where you live and work,
I have a key to your car.
I am coming to get you,
Its only a matter of time.
No one can protect you,
There's no place to hide.

You may be in the shower,
Or in your favorite chair.
You might be asleep in bed,
You won't know that I'm there.
It'll be when you least expect it,
The last thing on your mind.
You may feel secure and protected,
When I get you from behind.

The pain will be minimal,
It will only last an instant.
The fear you'll have will be subliminal,
Your brain will fight against it.
The last thing that you'll ever see,
Will be all you remember.
You'll never even know it's me,
As your body is dismembered.

I embody your worst nightmare,
A fate you can't avoid.
I haunt shadows everywhere,
Loom within each void.
I embrace both fear and hate,
Consume life's final breath,
I'm a tomb with no escape,
I'm the face of death.



Copyright © September 2010
Kevin Mooney

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092510

Perpetual Nightmare

Lying here half asleep,
In a subconscious state.
Having prayed my soul to keep,
My mind's still half awake.
There's no sound, not a peep,
The silence escalates.
I finally try counting sheep,
Things start to deteriorate.

Something in the attic creaks,
The ceiling fan starts to shake
The ticking clock's rhythmic beat,
Begins to resonate.
I'm feeling numb, my limbs grow weak,
Lights grow dim then dissipate.
Barely lucid, unable to speak,
I start to hallucinate.

I try to take one last peek.
But it becomes too late.

And I begin to dream...

Mind drifting ever deep,
My thoughts turn into scenes.
Ghostly vision vapors seep,
Through billowing walls of steam.
Standing on a ledge so steep,
Balancing on a beam.
Whispered voices call to me.
Things aren't what they seem.

I notice several shadows,
Inching their way toward me.
I turn my back to retreat,
Then feel a hand grab me.
I struggle desperately to get free,
But cannot move my feet.
The situation's growing bleak,
I close my eyes, fain defeat,
Then reclaim reality.

I hear broken laughter,
Echoing in a breeze.
I sit up and raise my head,
Wrap my arms around my knees.
My body rises off the bed,
I'm floating effortlessly.
I feel the eyes of the dead,
Staring straight at me.

Something on me is crawling,
My legs start to burn.
Bugs are moving beneath my sheets,
Wiggling thousands of worms.
I try to move my frozen feet,
My stomach starts to churn.
My body can no longer compete,
I scream but hear no words.

There comes a distant knocking,
Someone opens a door.
I see the crack of a light,
Feel sanity start to restore.
The light continues to get bright,
It stretches across the floor.
The evil that was the night,
Possesses me no more.

I see the sun start to rise,
Then shadows disappear.
I'm no longer terrified,
No longer full of fear.As my room fills with light,
And morning time grows near.
I finally come to realize,
What's really happening here.
I've survived another night,
Conquered my worst fears.

I start to get out of bed,
For some reason I cannot move.
My arms are pinned at my side,
I'm trapped in a glass cocoon.
The walls around me are crystallized,
I can see my surrounding room.
I'm trapped inside a crypt of some kind,
Transparently consumed.
I struggle not to lose my mind,
To escape this invisible tomb.

I then relax, lay back and wait,
Lie still and start to stare.
The harder that I concentrate,
The sooner I'll get out of here.
But somehow I feel I'm awake,
Unconsciously unaware.
I'm trapped inside my mental state,
I pray to God that I escape,
Find an exit, a way to wake,
From this perpetual nightmare.


Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

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103110

The Castles of Callisto

Dusk arrives to blanket the skies,
Celestial eyes appear.
Galilean moons rise in tune,
Millions of miles from here.


Shadows loom as vapors consume,
Callisto's stark terrain.
The silhouettes of castles rest,
Haunting those that remain.


Mountain peaks imprison the weak,
The immoral and insane.
Within the walls one hears the calls,
Of irrepressible pain.


Satan's manifesto,
Evils native son.
The Castles of Callisto,
Eternity's just begun.


Silence speaks while insanity seeks,
Minds twisted, confused and deranged.
Nobility rules this kingdom of fools,
Where thoughts are controlled and contained.


Whispers are heard but rarely a word,
The echoes of distant bells ring.
Listeners converge but never emerge,
Souls anguish, alone in its wings.


Governed by ghosts of ancient hosts,
Spirits belie their disguise,
Phantom thieves and pirates boast,
Of fortunes, treasures and lies.


No one escapes Callisto's fate,
Tenants are eternally bound.
To hesitate may be too late,
Your remnants may never be found.


The Castles of Callisto,
Sheer walls of hallowed doom.
Men have tried,
Been denied,
Locked up and marooned.


The Castles of Callisto,
Hell calls from every room.
Its sovereignty,
Just might be,
Man's final resting tomb.

Copyright © September 2010
Kevin Mooney

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090310

Twenty Tiny Angels

Twenty tiny Angels,
Nestled in classrooms.
Twenty tiny Angels,
Vessel-ed in cask tombs.

Innocent little Angels
Sitting at their desks.
Innocent little Angels,
Solemnly laid to rest.

Eleven days till Christmas,
No more Santa Clause.
Heaven now be with us,
Comfort those that lost.

Defenseless tiny victims,
A senseless tragedy.
God is now with them,
For posterity.

Solitary survivors,
Scathed with agony.
Forever the reminders,
How tragic life can be.

Let their story grip us,
To our very core.
Pray their souls' be with us,
For now and evermore.

Are we all oblivious?
We all must stop and pause.
How can God forgive us?
Is it worth a social cause?

Twenty tiny Angels
Played in tiny rooms.
Twenty timeless Angels,
Displayed in tiny tombs.

Twenty little angels,
Rest now peacefully,
Constant reminders,
Reflections of you and me.

For eternity...

Copyright © February 2014
Kevin Mooney

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021314

Suddenly Philip (Seymour)

A tribute to Philip Seymour Hoffman

So sad you're gone
Life seems unfair.
It's hard to imagine,
You lying there.
You lived on the edge, ignoring the signs.
Now you've left all that mattered behind.

Suddenly Philip, you've gone away,
There's no more tomorrows, no more todays.
The fans who adored you, stood by your side,
Can now only mourn you and how you died.
There's so much to ask,
So little to say.
Suddenly Philip, you've gone away.

The roles that you gave us,
Seemed so hard to play.
Quirky, contagious,
Misfit and gay.
Somewhat misguided, peculiar and queer,
Tragically human, romantically sincere.

Suddenly Philip, you're no longer here,
There's one more less talent, one more empty chair.
We'll certainly miss you and your unique way,
We'll never forget you and those roles you played.
The world will soon realize,
The impact you made.
Suddenly Philip, such a price you paid.

Suddenly Philip,
You broke your stride.
An underachiever,
Now immortalized.
Suddenly Philip,
Your legacy
Will be defined,
In posterity,

Cinematically.

RIP

Copyright © February 2014

Kevin Mooney

kmm001

021214

Little Miss

This is an acrostic...

She was the twinkle in America's eye,

 Heaven sent Angel in a depressed time.

 Image of innocence, talent supreme,

 Radiant child star of the silver screen.

 Little Miss Marker made 'em Stand up And Cheer,

 Eventual Bright Eyed, star of the year.

 Youngest to grace Grauman's walkway,

 The Good Ship Lollipop castaway.

 Everyone's adorable Curly Top kid,

 Millions recall films and songs that she did.

 Poor Little Rich Girl with Dimples and doo,

 Littlest Colonel and Rebel too.

 Even Stowaway and January had

 Big screen appeal during times that were bad.

 Little Miss, Heidi and Willie Winkie,

 Animal Crackers in Soup aplenty.

 Considered to don role of Dorothy Gale,

 Kindred icon, internationally hailed.

Copyright © February 2014

 Kevin Mooney

 kmm001

 021114

The Day John Lennon Died

This is an acrostic...

Many cried the day he died,
All the world did mourn.
Rest in peace Brother John,
Keep blowing your precious horn.
David did not know the wrong,
A Double Fantasy did.
Vindication, death through song,
In 4 clean shots he's dead.
December 8th, at 10 past 10,
Where he and Yoko dwell ed.
Heaven called John Lennon home,
At 53 minutes to 12.
That 1980 New York night,
Defined a legacy.
Into martyrdom he did rise,
Deprived tranquility.
Yoko gave his eulogy,
Only she could say,
Understand peace and love,
Do for all humans pray,
On this solemn day.


Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
100810

John, Julian & Sean

Just Imagine...This is an acrostic

Tell the world, John, Julian and Sean,
Heal the world today.
End all suffering, hunger and wrong,
Let love lead the way.
Empty hearts mean empty minds,
Night time turns to day,
No one sees if all are blind,
Oppression needs a say.
Neverland's for those that dream,
Let's dream and never wake.
Instant Karma's message seems,
Nobody mends through hate.
Every person needs someone,
Search and you will find,
Feed a hunger, love someone,
Open up your mind.
Rest assured good deeds and words,
Take so little time.
Reap the harvest of the world,
Others will fall in line.
Understand that God's plan,
Belongs to you and me.
Let your hands show you can,
Embrace eternity.
Do unto others as you would have others,
To others be honest and true.
Imagine two brothers, sons of 2 mothers,
Mothers with 2 different views.
Everyday find peace and pray,
Share a piece of what John had to say.

John, Julian & Sean...


Copyright © October 2010
Kevin Mooney

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Walls of Flame - Hearts of Fame

Where have you gone our brave young sons,
Where have you gone and why?
To fight new battles, to rid new wrongs,
To protect new mountain sides?

Where have you gone young Hotshots,
Where do your souls now lie?
In heaven above and beyond,
Where do you now abide?

Granite mountains bear your names,
Etched forever in time.
Walls of flames cannot burn away,
Your legacy left behind.

Wherever you've gone my brave young throng,
Have a wonderful ride.
Your families will never do no wrong,
We'll always be by their side.

The walls of flame that remain,
Cannot contain the tide.
Halls of fame will bear your names,
Gratitude never subside.

Wherever you've gone our brave young sons,
Rest peacefully by God's side.
Your work is done, your fight's been won,
Carry yourselves with pride.

Your memory will never die.
Copyright © July 2013
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
070313

Today's Just Not The Same

Our 10 year old Labradoodle, Daphne, died suddenly and unexpectedly, this morning. She lived a wonderful life. This is dedicated to her...



I lost a childhood friend today,
One I loved so much.
She was always there for me,
Wanting to be touched.
A loyal friend,
To the end,
I'll miss her very much.

I lost a bit of shadow today,
It's no where to be found.
My world seems somewhat emptier,
With it not around.
There's a pair,
Of empty chairs,
With no familiar sound.

I lost a true companion today,
A loyal, devoted fan.
One I always counted on,
To nudge my idle hand.
No cold, wet nose,
Or cuddles close,
Every now and then.

I lost a piece of me today,
A piece I can't regain.
I pray that she's at peace today,
In her new domain.
It's hard to say,
She's gone away,
Today's just not the same

Sleep well Daph. We'll miss you very much...

Daphne Mooney (March 2002- October 2012)


Copyright © October 2012
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
100412

Blue Tuesday Morn (The 95th Floor)

9/11/2012...9:17 a.m.

I woke up this morning and I heard birds chirping, a plane flying overhead and police sirens in the distance. It was another beautiful blue Tuesday morn.

the 95th floor

This is an acrostic.

9/11/2001...


4:00 am

Astonished startle, half awake,
Restless visage, shiver-shake,
Mental mind-meld, second-take,
Another hour 'till daybreak.
Gratification,
Exultation,
Deliberation,
Determination,
Origination,
Nerves of steel, intrepid state.

5:00 am

Traffic's light, weather warm,
Aurora bright, Blue Tuesday morn.
Levitation,
Invitation,
Beautification,
Aviation,
Newton's apple, cir-cum-form.

6:00 am

Astute arrival, time to spare,
Prodded people everywhere.
Orchestral motions, symphonic flair,
Carnival-istic rustled air,
Adjuration,
Luxuriation,
Yule-sensation,
Proclamation,
Sequestration,
Electric intensity, dawn's time-square.

7:00 am

Plane half full, infernal wait,
Expectant delay, 14 late,
Relaxing music, pre-vegetate.
Postulation,
Exasperation,
Tribulation,
Reparation,
Accusation,
Tribulation,
Entered sky, a minute to eight.

8:00 am

Senses tingling, slight dismay,
Initial feeling, a.o.k.,
Grauman's Theater, love L.A.,
Navigation,
Ostentation,
Fascination,
Titillation,
Hallucination,
Estimation
Elicitation,
Nirvana-cation,
Dreaded flight, eternity.

8:10 am

Open caskets, lots of room,
Silent chaos, terrorists loom,
Aerial assault, impending doom.
Miscalculation,
Altercation,
Bastardization
Indignation,
Notarization,
Labanotation,
Affirmation,
Desperation
Eradication,
Nowhere to go, celestial tomb.

8:13 am

Flight control, "Transponder on?"
Unable to reach or correspond,
Laceration,
Lobotomiz-ation,
Your altitude, "Please respond."

8:15 am

Friend or foe? Show of force,
Under attack, flight off course,
Estimation,
Liberation,
Education,
Decided turn, getting worse.

8:20 am

Armed assailants, attendants down,
Internal mutiny, muffled sound,
Ramification,
Perspiration,
Lamentation,
Assassination,
Nodul-ation,
Eighty-six lives nowhere bound.

8:25 am

Flight 181 silent now,
One hundred degree turnaround,
Respiration,
Concentration,
Elevation,
Direction change, Big Apple Town.

8:30 am

Hudson River, Country Sides,
Insipid horizons, cerebral tides.
Justification,
Aberration,
Consultation,
Koran-nation,
Invocation,
NORAD-nation,
Glorification,
Silhouettes of grey skylines.

8:40 am

September Sky, bluish morn,
Undeterred, Islamic scorn.
Relegation,
Reclamation,
Exaltation,
Accreditation,
Lurid Jihad, Al Qaed-ac swarm.

8:45 am

Severed Streets, urban blight,
Euphoric wreak, conceded fight.
Re-evaluation,
Elicitation,
Normalization,
Illumination,
Testamentation,
Yesterday's gone, twin towers in sight.

8:46 am

Repeated cries, "Terminate!",
Early warnings, too little, too late.
Vacillation,
Eradication,
Last Temptation,
Affirmation,
Titivation,
Indignation,
Ostentation,
Nostradamus visions vacillate.

8:46:20 am

Novocaine numbs the brain,
Utopian crypts of cellophane,
Malfunct-uation,
Bastardization,
Euthanization,
Reverberation,
Necrophiliazation,
Internalization,
Neutralization,
Euphoric, rapture d windowpane.

8:46:40 am

Seventh Sign, Martyrs' born,
Aqua-teal sky is torn.
Lucifer's Cadenced Overture,
Unforgettable Tuesday Mourn,
Terrorization,
Abomination,
Termination,
Incineration,
Obliteration,
No landing strip, no open door,
Sojournal stop, the 95th floor.



RIP
To the Passengers of American Airlines Flight 811
And all the victims of 9/11


Copyright © June 2009
Kevin Mooney

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101509