The Shores of Coeur d'Alene

This is an acrostic about Coeur d'Alene, Idaho...

Iridescent brilliant blues,
Dazzling, vibrant natural hues,
Amorosity billows proud,
Heaven's scent pours out loud.
Oregon's once rightful heir,
Spokane River gets you there,
Hills and Mountain pageantry,
Eye of the Needle legacy,
Alene's banks flair with grace,
Riverstone, a welcome place.
Thompson's Northwest boundary,
Oregon Treaty's quandary.
French for "Heart of the awl",
Abundant life, fish or foul.
Northern Rocky's hidden gem,
A slice of heaven, Canadian friend.
William Sherman's claim to fame,
Lakes and shores of Coeur d'Alene.

Copyright © March 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

030610

Severna Park

Dedicated to town I live in...


Nestled deep in the Chesapeake,
A town that folks adore.
Quietly lies,
Surrounded by,
Miles and miles of shore.

Wedged between two rivers,
Linking north to south,
The Magothy weaves,
While the Severn recedes,
Converging at each other's mouth.

Enriched with watershed wildlife,
Nurtured by the Bay,
Blue heron's stand,
In crab filled sands,
While fishermen earn their pay.

Lauded for history and culture,
A picturesque Atlantic gem.
Visitors seek,
A vestal peek,
Through Folger McKinsey's pen.

A summertime antique getaway,
Where beaches spill into backyards.
Cypress trees bend,
While seasons blend,
Into pastoral living postcards.

Baltimore's southern neighbor,
Anne Arundel's northern jewel.
Slips with yachts,
Challenge long wooden docks,
As schooners and sailboats rule.

In the shadow of old Annapolis,
Generations wind on forever,
Seafood feasts,
And iconic treats,
Severna Park, a Maryland treasure.



Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
010110

Little Windows

Sometimes the moon's like a window,
Like the hole in the top of a jar.
And all of the planets,
And all of the stars,
Are keyholes to where we are.

The night sky's a changing crescendo,
Crescent moons waning little and large.
Sparkling doubloons,
That brighten up rooms,
Some near and some very, very far.

At times God closes the windows,
Turns off some planets and stars.
The calamity,
Of twinkles we see,
Are like flashing head-beams from cars.

But when He turns on all the lights,
Opens all the windows of the night.
The stars and moonbeams,
And planets all seem,
To blend together with dawn's early daylight.


Copyright © June 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
060510

A Darker Poignant Calm

I originally wrote Poignantly Calm in March of 2009, It has always been one of my favorite poems. I like its message and I like its current, yet retrospective feel. This is a Another Poinantly Calm poem, a little more current and a little darker. Hope you like it...


I thought I saw JFK,
Wearing a baseball hat.
It was at a Red Sox game,
He'd grown old and fat.
No one seemed to notice him,
But he looked straight at me.
He tipped his hat, shook his head,
And nodded reverently.

And then there was this calm...

I saw Martin Luther King,
On a subway train.
He was carrying 2 large books,
And had a worried look of pain.
Both the books were old and tattered,
Each was worn and torn.
Their content seemed to him what mattered,
Their testaments forlorn.

And again there was this calm...

I thought I saw Pope John Paul,
On a Harley Davidson.
In front of a VFW hall,
Among several AA friends.
He tried to look away from me,
Knew that I knew him.
He wore a leather bomber jacket,
With a POW pin.

Stronger grew the calm...

I thought I saw my Father today,
It was rather odd.
He was older, much more grey,
He looked a lot like God.
He mouthed to me several words,
That I simply could not hear.
He had this very distraught look,
His eyes were filled with tears.

All became desperately calm...

An earthquake leveled Haiti,
A quarter million died.
One month later Santiago,
Chile rocked side to side.
An airplane bound for Russian soil,
Where a massacre occurred.
Crashed and killed Poland's President,
And shocked the Polish world.
An Iceberg the size of Rhode Island,
Breaks suddenly out of place.
A volcanic eruption in Iceland,
Stymies north airspace.
A child of 13 hangs himself,
Without a single word.
Seems only friends on Facebook,
Knew what his last thoughts were.

The whole world became calm...

Are these acts more prophesies?
Messages that God sends?
Are these signs indicative,
Of the world's impending end?
Are these images what they seem,
Or induced, subconscious psalms?
Lord I pray they're only dreams,
Illusions poignantly calm.


And once again, came rain...



Copyright © May 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

050210

Another Poignant Calm

I saw an odd shaped cloud today,
It looked like a big balloon.
I wondered how it got that way.
Then it turned into a mushroom.
As it slowly drifted away,
A voice in my head seemed to say,
"Somethings terribly wrong."

The world felt eerily calm.

I thought I saw Bin Laden today,
Driving a rental truck.
As I passed him, he looked my way,
Smiled then pointed up.
An airplane passed overhead,
I imagined all aboard were dead.
Then I saw a sign that read,

Ahead All Is Calm.

I thought I saw John Lennon this morn.
At Starbucks standing in line.
He looked sad, his face well worn,
In his hand he carried a sign.
"The End is Very Near" it read,
He looked at me, "Imagine" he said,
"It's just a matter of time."

Everything felt calm.

I saw a girl at lunch today,
Christina Taylor-Greene.
Smiling she turned and looked my way,
Was eating a bowl of ice cream.
It was her 10th birthday,
September 11th, a special day.
But things were not what they seemed.

There was a definite calm.

I saw my father's face today,
He just looked and stared.
He spoke to me in a ghostly way,
Said "Son complete your affairs".
Time is shorter than it seems,
Watch for signs in news and dreams.
The world should be aware.

Nothing penetrated the calm.

A radical bombed Oslo, Norway,
Then went on a shooting spree.
By the time authorities had him contained,
The dead count was 93.
A Florida teen kills his parents,
With a hammer, in a violent rage.
While their bodies lay in their room,
Throws a party through his Facebook page.
A deranged woman in California,
Cooks her baby in a microwave.
Record tornadoes throughout the states,
Send hundreds to early graves.
Floods, the likes never seen before,
Breach town levies and river shores.
The entire country is enslaved,
By an uncommonly brutal, record heatwave.

Lord,

Are these events omens received?
Testaments to your omniscience?
Divine prophecies preconceived?
Premonitions of the Apocalypse?
Is your creation beyond reprieve?
What will the ultimate consequence be?


Know that in You I trust and believe.
It's You that makes me strong.
Your sovereignty and nobility,
The knowledge you're never wrong,
Provide me faith and courage to be,
Forever poignantly calm.


Once again it rained...


Copyright © July 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
072511

God's Perfect Angel

Last night I saw an Angel looking down at me,
She peered through sad, tearful eyes, that twinkled radiantly.
Her skin looked alabaster beneath fanned golden hair.
I tried to look right past her, as if she wasn't there.

Her wings were like a turtle dove's, white and shoulder high,
Attached to the middle of her back, hung just below her thigh.
She wore a sheer flowing gown that rippled in a wind,
A colorful floral crown sat perched majestically on her head.

She looked as if she knew me, her questions went unsaid.
Her stare went right through me as she floated above my bed.
She hovered there like a cloud, her visage quite serene,
It was like some ghostly shroud you'd see on a movie screen.

She looked faintly familiar, her face I was sure I'd seen.
Like a Fairy Princess, a celestial virgin Queen.
I thought I heard her whisper, only her lips never came apart.
I couldn't decipher the message she so desperately tried to impart.

Then I heard faint music and her voice rose gradually,
The two blended all together, in perfect harmony.
Then a chorus of unseen Angels joined the sing-along.
All their voices soon converged into one acapellic song.

Their words were hard to muster, their voices were not clear.
The melody was kind of eerie, a Gothic, chant-like cheer.
The Angel then put her hands together as if in silent prayer.
The room became eerily quiet.  I wasn't sure she knew I was there.

Was this all a hypnotic muse? Something seemed desperately wrong.
A self-conceived nightmarish dream where I did not belong?
The music slowly faded away as her eyes began to tear.
Her vision seemed to waver a bit, then slowly disappear.

The Angel then turned to vapor as the fan wisped her away,
There seemed to be no rational point in asking her to stay.
The room smelled somewhat musty, a slight coolness filled the air.
I layed there for a little while, then bowed my head in prayer.

Had all this been an hallucination? Was my mind playing tricks on me?
Or was this some divine revelation that God wanted me to see?
When I woke up the next morning it all seemed like a dream,
I searched around everywhere for proof of what I believed I'd seen.

In my mind I questioned whether it was truly real or fake,
It sure didn't feel like an illusion.  I swear I was awake.
As I got prepared for work, I turned on the T.V. set.
I searched and found the morning news.  The lead story said...

A little girl had just been found, initially feared for dead.
Her mouth and limbs had been bound, a bag was over her head.
Someone mysteriously phoned a tip, they'd left an anonymous word,
Authorities were precisely lead to a place where strange music had been heard.

As they entered the chamber of horrors where the young girl was kept,
She was found unharmed, though scared, while upstairs her captor slept.
The room was cool and musty, a slight vapor filled the air.
They searched for the source of the strange music but couldn't find it anywhere.

They flashed the young girls picture.  She'd been missing for days it seemed,
Suddenly I was struck with awe as I looked at the television screen.
For I knew at that very moment my vision was not a dream.
There was God's Perfect Angel, the one that I had seen.


Copyright © August 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
101709

What If?

Inspired by Lennon's Imagine....

What if there was no more hate,
No guns or knives or swords?
No violence or anger, rage or rape,
No more such thing as war.
What if there was no more crime,
No dying in the streets?
No more stealing or vandalizing,
No robbers, thieves or cheats?
What if there were no need for jails,
No prisons, just empty cells?
What if convicted women and men
Found peace within themselves.
What if there were no disasters,
No death-tolls from famine or disease?
What if there were no terrorist attacks,
No killing at home or overseas?
What if there were no rich or poor,
No social tension or strain?
What if there were no struggles for,
Political dominance or gain?
What if everyone shared what they had,
Weren't concerned with their own wealth or fame?
What if they gave to those that are sad,
To ease their less fortunate pain?
What if there were no hunger or starvation,
Food hording, destroying or waste?
What if third world countries or nations,
Were afforded more than a taste.
What if every man, woman and child,
Could think for themselves and decide?
What if one's rights were never on trial,
No more suicide or genocide?
What if there existed systems of health care,
Available for everyone?
What if those systems were always there,
For those in need of them?
What if everyone had a nice place to live,
Their own shelter from heat, cold and storms?
Kitchens to cook in, mirrors to look in,
Soft beds to sleep and keep warm?
What if everyone had clothes on their backs,
Hats, coats and comfortable shoes?
What if there were nothing folks lacked,
No more depressing bad news?
What if winning didn't mean everything,
It was okay to have fun and lose?
What if those wronged weren't bent on suing,
Didn't point fingers and accuse?
What if the world joined together and sang,
All at one melodic time?
What if the world's church bells all rang,
In a precisely unified chime.
What if all children laughed and played,
Together in a virtual play-land?
What if musicians all joined for a day
In a worldwide symphonic band?
What if we all had convenient access,
To churches, education and schools?
What if every child were obedient and confessed,
Their respect and abidance toward rules.
What if learning was real, not conceived?
We all could read, write and do math.
Intelligence put there for all to achieve?
So each could create his own path.
What if there wasn't anything at all,
That restricted one's desires and abilities,
To establish one's self and be who we are,
To live happy, healthy and free?
What if the world was just a better place,
Full of love, peace and sweet harmony?
What if we all just became friends,
A one world, global family?
What if it all were suddenly replaced,
With Lennon's Utopian dream?
Wouldn't it be that One better place,
He Imagined so eloquently?
What if mankind could only see,
How perfect that One world could be?

What if it was up to me?

Copyright © May 2010
Kevin Mooney

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

kmm001
100810

These Are The Things...

These are the things that make me sad:

The abuse of a child, it's innocence shorn,
A broken marriage irreconcilably torn.
Family dysfunction, a societal thorn,
A public malfunction, a break from the norm.
Hunger, starvation in any form,
The face of frustration, lost, forlorn.
Mass destruction from a devastating storm.
An animal's pain, so helplessly worn,
Man's disregard for land where he's born.
Wasteful consumption with no burden borne.
The fall and demise from social scorn,
The anguish of death we all learn to mourn.

These are the things that make me glad:

Beating the odds when the chips are down,
A miraculous win in a sports crazed town.
The beauty of nature, it's wonders abound,
Seeing the world, each experience profound.
A baby's smile and first steps around,
An animal's birth, no words can be found,
A cool summer rain; shaped cumulus clouds,
A fresh snowy day, earth's blanketed shroud.
Recognition of feats that make men proud,
Evil's defeat, dispensed without sound.
The preservation of hallowed ground,
The grace of God and his merciful crown.

These are the things that I find are bad:

Blatant cruelty, acts wantonly unfair,
Flagrant destruction that others don't dare.
Malicious hate, wars wrought with despair,
Selfish debates by those who won't share.
Arrogant leaders who act unaware,
Those that can't wait to get anywhere.
Bold disrespect for who got you there,
Cold neglect for burdens some bear.
Those that deceive to get everywhere,
Who deny and conceal their criminal affairs.
The brandishing of guns with extreme lack of care,
The embellishment of funds for personal flair.

These are the things that I wish I had:

The ability to create total Peace on Earth,
Honor good men and all that they're worth.
The moral conviction to prod the inert,
The pastoral connection for a spiritual rebirth.
A billion dollars to fight famine and thirst,
The power to heal, provide shoes, clothes and work.
Infinite wisdom with the power to avert,
Natural disasters that wreak havoc and hurt.
A way to comfort all those that feel cursed.
A place to rest when things seem their worst.
The means to prosper, entertain and traverse,
The power to conquer the ails of the universe.


Copyright © September 2009
Kevin Mooney

The Scent of Summer Rain

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

It quenches thirsts for subtlety,
It eases mental strains.
It's essence has a fragrancy,
That settles idle brains.

It softens sun baked window panes,
Cleans soil-caked, dusty feet.
So often it's unjustly blamed,
For flooded urban streets.

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

Often spurred by hurricanes,
They scour pale grey skies.
Tornadic and Cyclonic remains,
Empower rivers to rise.

Drizzles sweet as sugar cane,
Spark waterfall overflows.
Hailstones in it's quake proclaim,
Majestic 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,
Skies turn vibrantly blue.
They still a mind's quiet refrain.
Make the whole world feel brand new.



Copyright © May 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

051110

From Manger To Cross

Once upon a time, many years ago,
A very special child was received.
He was born in a manger with no place to go,
His future and purpose preconceived.

The birth was foretold, by generations old,
In books and psalms from afar.
Those that bore witness had come to behold,
A miracle proclaimed by a star.

Man's future lay, swaddled in hay,
His mission, transgressions to bear.
Surrounded by animals, shepherds and Kings,
With good tidings and gifts brought to share.

Do you suppose that there were those,
That knew who this child would soon be?
The living word, the one that arose,
Sent here to save you and me.

That night in a stable, a child proved able,
To inspire all nations to pray.
A story was cast, one sure to last,
It was proclaimed a glorious day.

Years went past but few people asked,
What became of that fortunate Son?
A man came forth and performed great tasks,
That inspired and astounded everyone.

As it turned out, many learned about,
His ability to heal and foresee.
His fan base grew and many soon knew,
That this was the child of prophecies.

He taught how to give, to love and forgive,
Performed a miracle or two.
He set an example for people to live,
Through suffrage, abuse and solitude.

One day a friend, one loyal to the end,
Pointed him out in a crowd.
Those that he served had forsaken him,
Admonished and cursed him out loud.

He was sentenced die, for no reason why,
He carried his burden upon his back.
His head was adorned with a crown of thorns,
He never complained of what he lacked.

He struggled at times, but managed to climb,
The hill where his cruel fate had led.
He was nailed and tied for committing no crime,
People watched as his hands and feet bled.

They lifted him there, up into the air,
On a cross firmly fixed in the ground.
All he could bear was to suffer and stare,
As onlookers gathered all around.

Many souls left, bereaved and bereft,
Unable to watch or comprehend,
Those that stayed, silently prayed,
That his suffering would eventually end.

When his time came, he offered no blame,
He asked only his Father forgive.
"They knew not their sins or where to begin,
To atone for the lives that they live".

As he died, all mankind cried,
At that moment it began to sink in.
This was that child that years ago lie,
Swaddled with the burden of sin.

That hallowed day, far, far, away,
On the eve of man's eternal cost.
Was when it began, the first Christmas day,
Jesus journey from manger to cross.



Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney

Noel

This is an acrostic...


Two thousand ten years ago,
Heaven reached down to earth.
Everyone there would come to know,
Freedom through one single birth.
Irrespective of color or creed,
Rebirth was offered to all,
Serving witness were Shepherds and Kings,
Transfixed on a child in a stall.
Never before in man's history,
On that first Christmas eve.
Eternal life's solved mystery,
Lay free to those who believe.



Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney

kooney001
123109

Happy Birthday Christina

Christina-Taylor Green was born September 11, 2001 and died January 8, 2011. This coming Sunday would have been her 10th birthday...

Happy birthday Christina,
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday Christina.
This poem's for you.
Happy birthday Christina.
It will soon be 10 years.
The day you were born.
All mankind shed tears.
Happy birthday Christina.
May the world celebrate.
Your life's bold beginning,
Was it irony or fate?

The day that you died.
Brought back repressed fears.
With each passing tide,
We wish you were here.
You were so innocent.
Like those that day.
God called you to heaven,
In a symbolic way.
Happy birthday Christina.
Are 10 candles enough?
To hallow the names,
Of those we all loved.
Rest now Christina.
As three thousand bells toll.
May your spirit be with us.
May God bless your soul.
Happy birthday Christina,
Pray your new life's serene.
We were blessed to have known you,
Christina-Taylor Green.

Forever soothe trepid dreams.



Copyright © September 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
090711

Happy Birthday Christina

Christina-Taylor Green was born September 11, 2001 and died January 8, 2011. This coming Sunday would have been her 10th birthday...

Happy birthday Christina.
Soon it will be 10 years.
We all remember the day you were born.
It was the day the entire world mourned.
The day all mankind shed tears.

Happy birthday Christina.
I wish that you were still here.
The day you died the whole world cried.
You were just standing innocently by.
Your death brought back all our fears.

Happy birthday Christina.
May the whole world celebrate.
Three thousand souls' bells were tolled,
Before you were even one day old.
Was it irony or fate?

Happy birthday Christina.
10 candles just won't be enough.
To hallow with flames three thousand names,
Eternally shame those to blame.
Condemn those responsible caught.

Happy birthday Christina.
You died symbolically.
God called you to heaven in 2011,
The same year as Osama Bin Laden.
Before the 10th anniversary.

Christina-Taylor Green.

Happy birthday Christina,
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday Christina.
We were all blessed by you.
We still miss you, too.

This poem's for you.


Copyright © September 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
090411

Side By Side, Together

I often lay and watch you breath,
Ever so gently, while you sleep.
I think about,
The life we've had,
The love we've shared,
How far we've come, together.

As I lay and watch you,
I thank God you're my wife.
I then recount,
The day we met,
And can't forget,
How you've changed my life, forever.

When I lay there with you,
Tears well in my eyes.
I never dreamed,
Life could be,
So worry free,
Wonderful and fun, together.

As we lay side by side,
I think of you with humble pride.
I'm so glad that I'm alive.
To have you to always confide.
I thank God that you're my bride.
It's been a very special ride, together.

As I lay next to you,
Life just seems so right.
The future looks so bright.
Our boys have grown,
They'll soon leave home,
Once again we'll be alone,

To live out life on our own, together.



Copyright © August 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
080411

Somber Moments

Tempered times help define,
Who we really are.
Somber moments collect in time,
Like pennies in a jar.

Hypnotic scenes within dreams,
Haunt unsuspecting minds.
Thoughts that run undeterred,
Leave painful scars behind.

Tear stained eyes, emphasize,
The pains that we all share.
Together we then realize,
How much we truly care.

When all is said, look ahead,
Let God lead the way.
Let somber moments' weight be shed,
In light of a brand new day.


Copyright © July 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
072311

Bathed In Innocense

A newborn child's fingertips,
It's teeny, tiny toes.
Innocent eyes, warm pink lips,
Perfect ears and nose.

The fluffy down of a baby chick.
The march of a mother duck.
A teetering foal's first full kick,
A baby calf's first suck.

The whisper of a heartfelt hymn,
That tingle that you get.
The rising of a new day's sun,
It's final evening set.

The whistle of a distant train.
The coming of a storm.
The quench of an overdue rain,
The quiet of the morn.

Special moments that we feel,
Those we share and sense.
An experience uniquely real,
Bathed in innocence.


Copyright © July 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
070411

This Man That I Once Knew

This man gave me comfort,
This man gave me life.
This man made me who I am,
Taught me wrong from right.

This man gave me shelter,
Provided clothes and food.
Nurtured me with confidence,
Showed me what to do.

This man gave me values,
Prepared me to survive.
If it were not for this man,
I may not be alive.

This man was my father,
My mentor and best friend.
My soul mate and my confidant,
My comrade, my Godsend.

He's no longer with me,
Standing by my side.
He loved me unconditionally,
Up to the day he died.

Now his spirit guides me,
In everything I do.
He lives deep down inside me,
In both my two sons, too.

This man that I once knew.


Copyright © June 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
061811

A Singular Grain of Sand

Strangers from a far off land.
Each a part of God's own plan.
Survive each week the best they can,
While they seek to understand.

Reaching for an empty jar,
Never knowing who you are.
Every soul's a twinkling star,
Some are near, others far.

A beach can be a funny place.
To beseech the human race.
Each divides lands and seas,
Parallel realities.

Give yourself a helping hand,
Listen to a silent band.
Be your own biggest fan,
A singular grain of sand.


Copyright © May 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
051411

Weeping Willow Trees

Sweeping, weeping willow trees,
Wis-ping in the breeze.
Waving wind whipped angel wings,
Wanting to be seen.

Swinging, swaying silhouettes,
Swishing sensually.
Dancing, prancing marionettes,
Each its own trapeze.
Swirling, wind swept,
Synchronicity.
Twirling, unkept,
Perfect harmony.
Silently, subtly,
Strutting to a fro.
Quietly, suddenly,
Putting on a show.

Sleeping, weeping willow trees,
Lazing listlessly
Quivering, withering,
Laying limp at ease.

Whispering willow trees,
Waiting patiently.
Wistfully, whimsically,
Wishing to be free.

Wilting weeping willow trees,
Weary, in dismay.
Will all the weeping willow trees,
One day wilt away?

Wake up weeping willow trees,
Watch and you will see.
The world one day will look your way,
Sympathetically.


Copyright © May 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
051311