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


kmm001
050110

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

kmm001
011611

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

Wormholes

Somewhere in space there lies a place,
That connects two dimensions in time.
A warped oasis a man forced faces,
When presented with 2 states of mind.

Twisting and turning, never converging,
Conjoining two disjointed schemes.
Resisting and yearning, forever diverging,
Thoughts remembered in dreams.

Somber moments of relaxed coma,
Create quite a perplexed surreal.
Whispered illusions, contort confusion,
Sustain the tight vortex concealed.

Once you've arrived on the other side,
What's apparent is things look the same.
You soon realize there's no place to hide,
Transparency's one of life's game.

Somewhere in space there lies an escape,
A bridge to a parallel world.
A path one can take, to ease mental breaks,
Where time's dimensions unfurl.

Portholes exist that scientists insist,
Pierce man's perception of time.
Tunnels amidst a black cosmic abyss,
Wormholes that fester the mind.



Copyright © April 2010
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
041510

Cosmic Caribou

Life seems somewhat trivial,
The world and those we love.
Inconsequential strife when viewed,
A thousand miles above.

Serenity, tranquility,
Swirls of clouds and hues,
Micro-scoped calamity,
Viewed through a hollow tube.

The further out perspective gets,
The less we heed or care.
Suffering, pain, neglect,
No longer forced to bare.

Higher still, reality fades,
Proportions blend, then fuse.
Focus blurs, congruity
Distort, contort, confused.

Animated grains of sand,
Kinetic solitude.
Specks in God's celestial plan,
Cosmic Caribou.



Copyright © February 2014
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
021314

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

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

Bartholomew Dylan Banks

From the earliest memories of friends and kin,
Life was good for Batholomew Dylan Banks.
Early on folks were enamored with him.
All were tolerant of his childish pranks.
People enjoyed his charismatic charm,
His lack of manners judged auspiciously coy.
His obstinate behavior, caused little harm,
As he was lauded with many an "at-ta boy".

Friends honoured him with compliments and praise,
Lavish offerings of presents and toys,
Gifts were aplenty in Bart's adolescent days.
His possessions were his pride and joy.
As he became a young man, people began,
To reprove his social arrogance,
His life took a turn, he could not understand,
Why so many soon avoided his presence.

He was truly inspired by all he aspired,
Things came easier to Bart than you and me.
His one fatal flaw, a self-centered desire,
A lack of grace and humility.
His haughty disdain forged an arrogant sin.
You see, Bart never once did give thanks,
For all that ever really mattered to him,
Was Bartholomew Dylan Banks.

Some say it was sad, the way he turned out.
Some remember him uncommonly thin.
He never did prosper or ever amount,
To the life he envisioned for him.
He never married, never had kids,
Never found his place in the ranks.
And when he died, no one remembered him,
Bartholomew Dylan Banks.



Copyright © June 2009
Kevin Mooney

The Human Zoo

These are the Lions and Tigers,
These are the Catholics and Jews.

Imagine a human menagerie,
Where the stock have no freedom to choose,
Where thoughts are controlled,
One does as he's told,
Imagine a Human Zoo.

One's world exists in a room,
Detached from the world outside,
Completely alone,
A cubical home,
In the zoo there is no place to hide.

They can be dangerous creatures,
They'll rebel the first chance they get.
They're let out in the sun,
At the point of a gun,
Don't feed them, you might get bit.

Their gates are closed to the public,
Inside great towers abound,
The enclosure's immense,
A barbed-wire fence,
The herd has limited ground.

They're by far the most popular exhibit,
Manifested for public view,
Men peer in the cells,
And see themselves,
Confined in a Human Zoo.


Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

An April Psalm

Another April is upon us.

Consider these events and what might be next...

History's inscribed with painful regrets,
Time-stamped reminders we'd just soon forget.
Life changing moments wrought with misery,
Sober atonement's to God's apathy.


Consider this sequence of mid-April dates,
A 2-week stretch worth scholarly debates,
A series of occurrences without common thread,
A collection of tragedies riddled with dead.


April 12, 1861


A war between brothers, a nation divided,
The question of Slavery, debate undecided,
A Fort's forced surrender, human dignity fought for,
The anguished overture to The American Civil War.


April 12, 1945


Our 32nd President, nationally adored,
Died in office, the free world mourned.
The most tenured Chief in U.S. history,
Distinction was Franklin's last legacy.


On April 14, 1865


While the nation reeled to get back on it's feet,
Abe Lincoln was shot in his balcony seat.
"Sic Semper Tyrannis", his assailant cried,
"He belongs to the ages", a martyr had died.


April 14th, 1912


A ship's maiden voyage, an unsinkable fate,
A runaway iceberg too little, too late.
A Titantic virgin, high society's new rave,
1500 passengers sent to icy hallowed graves.


April 15, 1986,


Middle Eastern tension and territorial defense,
A Berlin club bombed, a dire consequence,
Libya then shelled in retaliation,
60 lives felled, without warning or provocation.


On April 16th, 2007,


A serene college campus in a rural southern state,
32 died at the hands of a class-mate,
Virginia Tech ravaged by a rampaged massacre,
Blacksburg's savage shooting disaster.


April 17, 1961


At the Cold War's peak, a secret coup spoiled,
A surprise invasion to take Cuban soil.
Kennedy's embarrassing political low,
A Bay of Pigs and failed Castro overthrow.


April 18, 1906


A west coast quake, San Francisco torn,
San Andreas faltered in the early morn.
The city shook while most people slept,
3000 died, scores left bereft.


April 19, 1775


Sovereignty sought, a new flag unfurled,
Red Coats and Minutemen, insults hurled.
A Lexington Common to settle the score,
A single shot heard, a Revolutionary War.


April 19, 1993


A poorly planned siege in a small Texas town,
An Adventist's forged stand on Koreshian ground.
Waco's Davidians, FBI, ATF,
82 perished, most burned to death.


April 19, 1995


Oklahoma, City, the last place you'd expect,
A rental truck blast, sheered lack of respect.
Alfred P. Murray's face blown to smithereens,
A day care center and heart-wrenching scenes.


April 20, 1999


Two young gunman arrived at school late,
Their intent malicious, their motive pure hate.
A rapid fire stroll in armored disguise,
12 Columbine kids, a teacher victimized.


April 20, 2010


An oil spill disaster beyond compare,
A world engulfed in ecological despair.
Wildlife and lives scarred thereafter,
The BP Deepwater Horizon disaster.


April 27, 2011


A US, mid-west tornadic storm,
Millions of lives irrevocably torn.
God's epic wrath funneled from above,
Record tornadoes, lost homes and ones loved.



These world changing dates seem random at first glance,
But placed on a timeline they're suddenly enhanced.
I only named some, those most can relate,
There are many others that fall in these dates.
A coincidence, perhaps, they happened when they did.
But consider they're significance, the possibilities unsaid.


Do worldly events occur randomly?
Or are we all tokens of some sovereign monopoly?
Are our future's staged, fates foretold?
Or are we engaged in some Divine stranglehold?


Is the future dictated by events from the past?
Outcomes determined when calendar's cast?
Are questions answered before they are asked?
How long will God's mercy eventually last?


If there's no purpose to one's life at all,
Would there be a need for a crystal ball?
Existence is tenuous, the future unclear.
Will God's beckon call be the last voice we hear?


History's defined in both time and existence,
Misery reminds us just how fragile life is.
The future's traversed with blind trepidation.
With mysteries cursed beyond Deprecation.


Church bells chime together consistent,
While rivers wind forever persistent.
Mankind's time is measured and imminent.
Lives intertwine then are gone in an instant.

  Copyright © July 2009Kevin Mooney

kmm059

070109

Atomic Picnic

Oh Mommy, Mommy, look at the cloud,
It's shaped like a big mushroom.
I've never heard fireworks quite so loud,
Will it be over soon?

Oh Darling, what a spot you found.
What a fantastic view.
Other families spread out all around,
All having a good time too.

Oh Mommy, Mommy, what's that smell?
Is something burning somewhere?
I think it's the sky, it's hard to tell,
Is it coming from over there?

Oh Darling, what a nice lunch you've made.
You're such a wonderful cook.
The weather's perfect, it's a beautiful day,
It's just like a storybook.

Oh Mommy, Mommy, did you feel the ground?
Was that a little earthquake?
Did the people in that little town,
Survive the rumble and shake?

Oh kids, don't worry, it's not over yet,
The fun's just begun.
This is something you'll never forget,
You and everyone.

Oh Darling, this day couldn't get any better,
But isn't it kind of ironic?
A picnic together you want to last forever,
Turns out to be atomic.


Copyright © September 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
090411

Ever Wonder?

Ever wonder where you'll be,
When the time has come?
What you'd hear, what you'd see,
When your time is done?

What if you met God today?
Would you know what to say?
Do you think you'd know his face?
Would he seem out of place?

What if Jesus passed you by,
On the street? If he said hi?
Do you think you'd know it was him?
Short, heavy, tall or thin?

Do you think he'd say hello?
Extend his hand, chat then go?
What do you suppose he'd think of this place?
Would he be proud or disgraced?

Would you even recognize,
The sad, pained look in his eyes?
Do you think you would see,
If the future is to be?

One thing's certain, He'll come one day.
He'll walk among us in a normal way.
He'll probably be like you or I.
Blend right in, a regular guy.

He'll see how we have come to be,
A self-absorbed society.
Concerned mostly for ourselves,
With little regard for anyone else.

I'm sure he'll bow his head in shame.
Find himself the one to blame.
He'll recognize those good things.
Acknowledge pain and suffering.

And when it's finally time to leave,
He'll take with him those who believe.
Those who've prospered at others' expense,
Will cower at his omnipotence.

In the end, come judgement time,
It's in the heart that most men find,
The humility, truth, faith and love.
That comes from trust in God above.

Ever wonder where you'll be?
When that time does come?
Ever wonder if you'll be,
Among God's chosen ones?


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

Christopher Colin Sinclair

No one ever had the flair of Christopher Sinclair.
He was quite debonair,
Had a certain savoir-faire,
A thirty-something millionaire,
He turned heads everywhere
Did Christopher Colin Sinclair.

No, nobody quite compared to Christopher Sinclair.
He took pride in others' stares.
Had the most perfect hair,
Shoulders strong, perfectly square,
The man stood out anywhere,
Did Christopher Colin Sinclair.

He had no time for others' affairs,
Nor did he pretend to care.
Though always well aware,
He was crass and insincere,
Good fortune had was never shared,
By Christopher Colin Sinclair.

But all was not as it appeared, for Mr. Chris Sinclair.
A second life was revealed,
A pedophile charge concealed.
A past offense proved unreal.
A sentence passed, turned on appeal.
Soon everybody knew the real, Christopher Colin Sinclair.

The once good name now was smeared, of Christopher Sinclair.
People whispered, sneered and leered,
Private gawk soon turned to jeers,
His fame and fortune disappeared.
No, no one dared venture near,
This vile man loathed and feared.

As time went by, no one cared, for the sinister Sinclair.
His face now drew disgusted stares.
To see him publicly grew rare.
His was now an empty chair,
He might as well have not been there,
The perverted Mister Sinclair.

The papers read he died in bed,
Alone, distraught the article said.
A wealthy man, one well bred,
Shot himself in the head.
A single shot that barely bled,
Left Christopher Sinclair dead.

When people heard they did not care.
His funeral had no one there.
No eulogy, no thoughts or prayers.
It seemed a shame, somewhat unfair,
That no one shed a single tear.
For Christopher Colin Sinclair.



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

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

Paper Pawns

Silhouettes of wind torn branches
Painted against the sky.
Greyness blends into blue,
As winter wanes goodbye.
Light lingers ever longer,
With each passing day.
Bitter cold memories,
Gently melt away.
Paper pawns sway to and fro,
Teetering side to side.
Questioning where to go,
No place to dwell or hide.
As Mother Nature silently,
Ambles on her way.
Another season passes by,
Quietly tucked away.
Like a feather in the wind,
Helplessly blown awry.
A soul succumbs to destiny,
Despite how hard the try.
Life's a mystic labyrinth,
Fate the final straw.
As paper pawns we are meant,
To wither one and all.


Copyright © March 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
033011

The Solitude of Bronze

Sentimental moments,
Suspended still in time.
Solidified atonements,
Frozen, rain or shine.
Standing straight forever,
Seated sovereign-ly.
Hands held together,
In immortality.
Etched in perpetuity,
Solid chiseled stone.
Marbleised congruity,
Stoically alone.
Visages born of man,
Embraced exquisitedly,
Petrified grains of sand,
Encased eternally,
Defiantly reclusive,
Silent in response.
Heroically induced in,
The solitude of bronze.


Copyright © January 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
011511

With All That's Happening

The sun came up, a child was born
It was a beautiful thing.
He was proclaimed a King.

Some heard an Angel sing.

No one knew, to the world,
What that child would mean.
The hope his life would bring.

As a man he would demand,
A change in society.
Race equality.

A place where freedom rings.

On April 4th in '68, at 6:01 p.m.
A shot changed everything.
A single bullet bore through him,
And martyrdom did bring.

To Martin Luther King.

The sun came up, a child was born,
It was a wonderful thing.
Some heard Angels sing.

Christina Taylor Greene.

No one knew the day before,
What that day would bring..
Twin towers fell in a fiery hell,
A nation lay dying.

Lord what was happening?

Amid the strife, a single life,
Helped to ease some pain.
No one knew that her life,
Would break our hearts again.

It was just a matter of when.

The sun came up that Saturday morn,
It was a trivial thing.
As normal as can be.

Amid good weather, folks came together,
For a social gathering,
A political happening.

All knew well, Ms Gabrielle,
And showed support for her.
Not knowing what would occur.

Except Jared Lee Loughner.

Amid pained shouts, shots rang out,
Innocent people died.
With loved ones by their side.

Those that watched just cried.

Among the dead, Christina bled,
Another martyr born.
The target of his scorn?

An entire nation mourned.

In the aftermath, people have,
Tried to reason why.
Christina had to die.

So many innocent lives.

In days gone by, birds have died,
Fish in multitudes.
Floods have ravaged Australia,
Volcanoes erupted too.

Is the whole world coming unglued?

With all that's happening should man be grappling,
With what his future holds?
Did Martin die for you and I?
Was the rapture put on hold?
Was a September 11th child's tragic death,
A sign of things to come?
Is what's happening around the world,
A message for everyone?

Has the end begun?


Copyright © January 2011
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
120410