The Carnival of Souls

A synchronized crescendo,
Of thunder claps draw near.
Streaks of light fill the skies,
With a sense of fear.

Crashing, dashing,
Darkness, flashing light.
Crashing, gnashing,
Day turns into night.

Persistent pulsations,
Deep within my head,
Slowly wane then dissipate,
Fears no longer fed.

An overwhelming rumble,
Solid sheets of rain.
I stagger then I stumble,
Reeling from the pain.

Crashing, flashing,
Feeling much less tense,
Gnashing, mashing,
Making much less sense.

As the thunderstorm subsides,
There's a calm refrain.
In my mind I recognize,
The faint sound of a train.

Clattering, pattering,
Pecking at my brain.
Spattering, battering,
My mind's window pane.

There comes a sudden rapping,
At my closed front door.
What is really happening?
I can't tell for sure.

I cracked the door slightly,
To see who might be there.
A tall man bows politely,
Our eyes lock in a stare.

I feel like I am floating,
Floating in the air.
Levitating, loathing,
How I got up there.

Suddenly I notice,
Blood is everywhere,
Bleeding, feeding,
Visions I dare share.

The tall man isn't breathing,
He's just standing there.
I have a sensual seething,
As windchimes fill the air.

Darkness now surrounds me,
Silence fills my ears.
A numbness now abounds me,
The fervor of despair.

I can see slight movement,
Sirens start to whine,
Blinking lights are proof that,
I am still alive.

Now I hear faint music,
A calliope of songs,
Rhythmic, blind amusement,
I sense that something's wrong.

Uniforms approaching,
Suggest I am someone.
They point weapons at me,
As if I have a gun.

My body has no feeling,
As I hit the ground.
I'm looking a the ceiling,
Trying to look around.

Men are looking at me,
Some just turn away.
I don't know exactly,
What to do or say.

I still hear the music,
It's slowly getting cold.
I feel like I am losing,
The life I dearly hold.

There's a light above me,
Pulsing, pulling fast.
God I hope you love me,
Need I have to ask?

There's no more horizon,
No moon or setting sun,
The tall man's hands and eye's are,
Guiding everyone.

As he collects tickets,
Bells begin to toll.
Welcoming the wicked,
To the carnival of souls.



Copyright © July 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
073010

I Am...

I am a book that no one's read,
A voracious hunger that's never been fed.
A phantom that haunts those I've known,
A vision that's seen but never shown.

I have no body, no heart or soul,
I live in the minds of the young and old.
No one can see me though I'm always there,
A flick of a light or wisp of cold air.

I have no sense of presence or time,
No conscious pretence of what's yours or mine.
I take what I want, live as I choose,
I have no remorse for those I abuse.

Some people find me a breath of fresh air,
Other's remind me how little I care.
I rise every morning before every sun,
At the end of the day my work's just begun.

I've always existed and always will,
Many've resisted though welcomed my thrill.
I've been portrayed in songs and scenes,
Crudely displayed upon movie screens.

Some seek my guidance, covet my rules,
Find false reliance, submit like fools.
Some think they know me, the hate that I feel,
Attempt to show me what's fake and what's real.

Though some men deny me, reject I exist,
They often find me, reflect then subsist.
There's no place to hide that's outside my reach,
Those who have died I loath and beseech.

God has his children, the lambs of his flock,
Teachers that teach them to cling to his rock.
I don't pretend to be who I'm not.
I never intend to be void or forgot.

Copyright © July 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
072510

There Comes A Time

There comes a time in everyones' life,
Thoughts test mortality.
The further we go,
The more that we know,
Yet the less we're able to see.

In retrospect we all soon forget,
Years seem to take their toll.
What we long to feel,
Minds gradually conceal,
Memories fade into black holes.

Before we die we should all try,
To inscribe life's victories and woes.
Bless loved ones and friends,
Before it all ends.
Provide memoirs for family and foes.

A lifetime's last epitaph,
Should not just be words etched in stone.
Leave an impression,
An eternal expression,
A collection of words of your own.



Copyright © July 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
072510

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

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

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

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

This Is What I Saw

I looked down and saw a man, looking up at me.
His eyes were fixed and dilated, his expression worry free.
Not an ounce of tension,
Existed on his face.
Lying there, unaware, in a better place.

I looked up a saw a man looking down at me.
He looked just like an Angel, with a message just for me.
His was an extension,
Of what I used to be.
Flying there, in the air, content and reverently.

I looked down and prayed to God, that he'd accept me.
My mind transfixed and highlighted, transgressions made toward me.
Not an ounce of reprehension,
Would I ever see.
Crying there, I learned to care, for those with less than me.

I looked up and gave to God, the love he gave to me.
He prescribed eternal life and prosperity.
In a premonition,
I saw myself debt free.
All my sins had been cashed in, I'd found true sanctity.

I've looked around and often found, things rarely what they seem.
When you die your measured by your love and loyalty.
Immoral retribution,
Governs one and all.
In God's eyes, man's judgement lies, this is what I saw.


Copyright © February 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm119

020510

In The Blink Of An Eye

Think of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald...

In a crystal blue sky, in the blink of Eye,
Three streaks flew over West Texas.
At 5 after 9 the 7 that died,
Left lovers and children as exes.

Those on the ground had heard a loud sound,
As Columbia prepared for a landing.
Many asked why and others just cried,
As officials lacked full understanding.

The ship had survived what Challengers tried,
The first of the new shuttle program.
Many denied that the 27th try,
Was the result of engineers' poor plans.

Constructed with pride back in '75,
Named after Captain Gray's venture.
The name also given to Apollo 11's,
Command module lunar adventure.

When she arrived in March '79,
At Merritt's Kennedy Space Center.
Two workers soon died from carbon monoxide,
While getting her ready to enter.

Her very first flight, round earth 36 times,
She safely touched down in California.
Success at her side, no more need for test flights,
As 3 more shuttles soon joined her.

Flying in space sometimes seems such a waste,
After all what's it ever do for ya?
The cost of it seems beyond social means,
Did God ever intend it for ya?

When Challenger's crew died attempting to fly,
Should that have been our first warning?
The program just grew, while nobody knew,
That another disaster was forming.

The years that went by she flew 20 more times,
With 2 more shuttles beside her.
The 21st flight seemed routine at the time,
Officials never really seemed bothered.

When she took flight all her systems seemed right,
Those on the ground never doubted.
A piece of foaming, tore a whole in a wing,
On lift-off, no one gave thought about it?

Officials never knew that the fate of the crew,
Was doomed when the mission first started.
The sheer irony of man's complacency,
Is his ability to carry on and disregard it.

Sixteen days in space now seem such a waste,
As she came in for her last landing.
The sight was serene, a magical scene,
To those who were watching and standing.

A tape later found, showed video and sound,
A thirteen minute recording,
None of the crew ever really knew,
Their mission was beyond aborting.

While descending in time, over Palestine,
She disintegrated without any warning.
Those that looked on, knew something was wrong,
The second white smoke started forming.

It all seemed unreal, dramatically surreal,
As spectator lines were still forming.
Unable to cope many lost hope,
That ill-fated February morning.

A terrorist plot was many's first thought,
How in God's name could this happen?
The war being fought, an Israeli astronaut,
Was this Osama Bin Laden?

She left a wide line of debris behind,
Across Texas, Arkansas and Louisiana,
The nation was shocked, NASA's program was blocked,
Terrorism was ruled from the banter.

In its aftermath, American's still ask,
Were the seven that died really worth it?
Their final words were solemnly heard,
Weeks after searchers unearthed it.

Two years would go by, no shuttles would fly,
While the government thoroughly investigated.
Plots were denied, officials criticized,
Meanwhile families concerned just waited.

No one knows why the innocent die,
It's a question for God in the hereafter,
In a crystal blue sky, in the blink of an eye,
Was the Columbia Space Shuttle Disaster.



Dedicated to the crew of Columbia:

Commander: Rick D. Husband
Pilot: William C. McCool
Payload Commander: Michael P. Anderson
Payload Specialist: Ilan Ramon
Mission Specialist: Kalpana Chawla
Mission Specialist: David M. Brown
Mission Specialist: Laurel Clark

Copyright © February 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

020710

I Gave My All

I gave my love a flower
In a gesture of chivalry,
I gave the world the power,
That God so blessed in me.
I gave my love a ring,
So she might marry me.
I gave the world my body,
In health and frailty.
I gave my love my seed,
To plant our family tree,
I gave the world 2 sons,
To preserve posterity.
I gave my love my life,
To embrace eternally.
I gave the world all I had,
To face eternity.

I gave my love my hands,
To hold close and lovingly.
I gave the world my eyes,
So a blind person might see.
I gave my love the vision,
Of what true love ought to be.
I gave the world my tongue,
To taste joys bitterly,
I gave my love sensations,
Wrought with sensuality.
I gave the world two lungs,
So those congested can breathe,
I gave my love a lasting breath,
Of fresh air and tranquility.
I gave the world two kidneys,
To cleanse life giving blood.
I gave my love the lasting knowledge,
That she was always my one true love.
I gave the world my heart,
So no other would miss a beat.
I gave my love a cherished life,
Complete and worry free.
I gave the world all my parts,
For those dying terminally.
I gave my love true memories,
To never forget me.
I gave the world all I had,
The day God came for me.


Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
090609

I Came Home Today...

I came home today to find my dog had died,
We'd been together such a very long time.
I remembered when I first brought him home,
He was 2 months old, didn't like it alone.
He was full of life, my consummate friend,
He loved to play and take walks now and then.
No matter how often,
Where or when.
He was 12 years old the day he died.
I laid down and quietly cried.

I came home today to find my dad had died,
I had just been with him the previous night.
I remembered fondly the good times we'd had.
He was my mentor, a well thought of man,
He was always there, to chastise and commend,
My trusted advisor, my kindred Godsend,
It happened so fast,
His heart just gave in,
He was 63 the day he died.
I laid down and quietly cried.

I came home today to find my mom had died,
Her zest for life had just withered by,
I remembered how vibrant and beautiful she'd been,
The years posed a fight she just couldn't win.
My collective memories of her loving care,
I loved my mom, I wished I'd been there,
It all seemed surreal,
Unable to feel,
She was 68 the day she died.
I laid down and quietly cried.

I came home today and I realized,
How quickly the years had passed me by,
I remembered all my family and friends,
Who no longer graced this world I'm in.
Phantoms in dreams, cerebral ghosts,
My wife and children now matter most,
I treasured lost memories,
With a subliminal toast,
I'm 49, I subconsciously sighed,
I laid there a moment and quietly cried.


Copyright © August 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
080109

Until The Last Tear Is Shed

My Father died today.
And I wasn't there.
I wish I could have been.
I loved my dad and he loved me,
And I remembered when...

We laughed together,
We mourned together,
We fought a lot it seemed.
We had a lot of good times together,
We were quite a team.
But I never knew how much he cared,
It never crossed my mind,
I never knew how much I cared,
Until the day he died.

My Mother died today.
Again, I wasn't there.
I prayed that she went peacefully,
Her pain was hard to bear.
And I remembered when...

We talked of life and many things,
We were good friends, her and me,
We loved to argue
We loved to cook
We loved all the finer things.
But I never appreciated her full worth,
Never loved her like she loved me.
My mom was there since my birth,
She meant the world you see.

Now I'm the oldest of four children,
My parents are dead and gone.
It's hard to imagine how life has changed,
How we've all moved on.

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like,
If mom and dad weren't dead.
I'm sure I would treasure,
Our moments together,
Until the last tear is shed...


Copyright © June 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
060109

Another Rock 'n Roll Heaven

As kids today listen to their mp3's,
As disc jockey's roll back time.
Ipod's are packed full of memories.
Old Time Rock 'n Rollers past their prime.

Reunions seem shadows of what fans long for,
Cover Bands now dilute concert streams.
Many a passed favorite no longer tour,
They're found only in recordings and dreams.

Consider these greats for instance:

Jagger, Richards, Wyman and Watts,
Got Satisfaction as The Rolling Stones.
Under the thumbs of mother helpers and clouds,
Woods was in the shadows after the death of Brian Jones.

An unknown soldier who often got lit,
Broke through other sides and road in soft parade storms.
Found people strange, loved LA women madly,
When the music's over, in the end, Jim Morrison was the Doors.

Dazed and confused, they sang of immigrants and Kashmir,
Found a whole lot of lovin', good times and fame.
Rambled on broken levees, gallows and battles evermore,
Bonham took heaven's stairway, Zeppelin's songs were never the same.

They sang of a generation,
There's no question who they were,
Daltry and Townsend were their inspiration,
Keith Moon personified their words.

They electrified the scene with High Voltage,
Like an explosion of TNT,
ACDC paved their own Highway to Hell,
Bon Scott's voice was quite unique.

A band that defined the Southern Rock genre,
Lynyrd Skynyrd always had One for the Road.
He lived his life like a Free Bird,
Ron Van Zant called Alabama his sweet home.

Bands don't get much bigger than the Beatles,
They practically defined British Rock on their own.
John Lennon wrote of peace and mind games,
Imagined a world where we all live as one.

They each found success working solo,
Paul found love with a new Band on the Run,
Wings brought McCartney to new hi hi hi,
If only Linda not died so soon.

Now George seemed to come with the sun,
There was something in the way he gave.
His guitar never weeped, he found the Lord sweet,
As a Harrison, all things passed his way.

The South lost a pioneer and rambler,
A blues legend in talent and name.
Duane Allman was a true midnight rider,
Melissa and Jessica brought him posthumous fame.

He had a certain kind of magic,
One sure to give Queens a sheer heart attack.
His Rhapsody was poignantly tragic,
Freddie Mercury was a Champion that gave back.

The orchestral pit that now plays in the stars,
Seats musicians once the rock world's rage,
They filled stadiums and arenas, clubs and small bars,
In music annals you'll find their legacies on each page.

They now live in vinyl, cd and ipod heaven,
Legends of a once classical age.
When cigarette lighters and cell phone lights beckon,
These rockers will no longer take the stage.



Copyright © August 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
101809

Whose To Blame?

I watched my dog give birth one morn to 10 new healthy pups,
It was the most amazing sight I think I'll ever see.
She protected, fed and nurtured them until they all grew up,
It happened quick and naturally,
Ten lives bore so tenderly,
In retrospect, it occurred to me,
A life is so precious, no two the same,
If taken for granted then whose to blame?

I watched a man beat his dog while muzzled and restrained,
It made me sick, it made me mad, to think he could be so cruel.
There should be repercussions for acts, so inhumane,
A higher court for abused animals, to combat inflicted pain.
With tougher laws, more stringent rules,
To deal with cowardly, abusive fools.
I watched this horror with helpless shame,
I asked my God, whose to blame?

I saw where some teens beat a helpless cat then set it's fur on fire,
It sickened me as this story unfurled and the teens were put on trial,
I clenched my teeth in silent rage, to still my vengeful desire.
These hateful acts on defenseless creatures, so ludicrous and vile
How can people stoop so low?
Where did their compassion go?
And in the end, when the verdict came,
There was no fault, there was no blame.

What's the price,
Of our disdain?
The Devil's reprise,
Is a bitter game.
If we let it remain the same,
We're all at fault,
We're all to blame.

Dogs forced to fight in a center ring, killed if they abstain,
All supported by a local hero of football wealth and fame,
The misery of brutality, mental anguish and physical pain,
Where is the morality, in calling this sport a game.
Man's best friend?
Until the end?
An ironic, demonic claim,
My God, whose to blame?

What's the price? Whose to say?
Do animals matter anyway?
We should all feel dismay.
Bow our heads and walk away,
They have rights, like me and you,
What gives man the right to abuse?
We're all God's creatures, just the same.

And in the end, come judgement day,
The verdicts not ours anyway,
Tears won't matter, nor solemn regrets,
Our choices will determine the sentence we get.
We'll stand heads hung, in reverent shame,
Then it won't matter whose to blame.


Copyright © August 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
080109

Sail (Pink Floyd Tribute VI)

This is part 6 in the Dark Side of the Moon series. This is a rewrite of Breathe...


Sail, sail alone,
In search of a new Island home.
Cross the sea of tranquility,
Make the world your throne.

Reach for the stars and you will find.
Many before you left behind.
Know your limits, know your mind,
Year's are minutes beyond the sky.

Fly, Eagle fly,
Soar to heights no others try.
Build your nest among the stars,
Do your best where ever you are.

Then one day the world will see,
There's no difference in you and me.
Friends may try to set your free,
We're born to die, its God's decree...

All thoughts fade to black and white,
Day is day and night is night.
Some give in and other's fight,
Never win though always right.

And in the end the verdict's just,
Men will die to earn God's trust.
We all must sacrifice to adjust.
In dirt we blend then turn to dust....



Copyright © November 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
110109

If You Want...

If you want to feel alive,
Look down the barrel of a Colt 45.
If you're lucky you might survive.

If you want to learn a lesson,
Suck on the tip of a Smith and Wesson.
Barely touch the trigger, then listen.

If you want to feel ecstatic,
Kiss the muzzle of a semi-automatic.
After a while you feel like an addict.

If you want to know where you've been,
Push the speedometer past 110.
Close your eyes, feel the wind.

If you want to feel consumed.
Let carbon monoxide fill the room.
It may become your resting tomb.

If you truly want to die,
Consider carefully the reasons why.
Relief and suicide don't coincide.




Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
011610

Heros, Kings and Ghosts

Historically, reverently,
Men of days gone by.
Those with names etched in stone,
For deeds that changed their times.

Men whose nations they preserved,
Who willingly gave their lives.
Fearless men who passionately served,
Whose bravery exemplified.

Men of courage, men of zeal,
On whom their brethren relied.
Men that fought with nerves of steel,
Who led their battle cries.

Sovereignty, dignity,
Casts of immortal men.
Born with innate abilities,
To forge a conceived plan.

Missionaries, visionaries,
Prophets, bards and seers,
Dignitaries, literarys,
Poets and future seekers.

Men with talent, men with skill,
Men with brilliant minds.
With the desire and the will,
To effectively change mankind.

Men preserved in bronze and stone,
Statues and painted hosts.
The solitude of souls atoned,
Heros, Kings and Ghosts.


Copyright © January 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
010510

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

Psalm 23 1/2

Lord, thou art my vessel, my comfort and my stone.
I bow to thy wisdom, in thy shadow I lie prone.
I confess transgressions, for my sins to be atoned.
Through Thee, seek direction, guidance toward Thy throne.
I humbly kneel reminded of the weight Thou bore alone.
I pray, Lord, Thou find it, in Thy heart to lead me home.

Vast the mountain that I climb, Thou layest before me,
Rely on Thy countenance, ascend most graciously.
I seek Thy heartfelt kindness and generosity.
Honor cold reminders of born burdens selflessly.
Forgive my utter blindness, should I fail to see,
I worship Thee, your Highness, through reciprocity.

As I reach the pinnacle of my labored climb,
I fear I not be cynical, toward Thy blessed sign.
I will seek Thy hand, my Lord, to hold in my descent.
Savor the beauty of Thy land, Thy sober innocence.
Death I will not fear, my Lord, waiver in my stride.
Anoint me with Thy breath, dear Lord, rid me of my pride.

As the light begins to fade, in trust I will abide.
Eternal life I will embrace, to dust and so subside.



Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney