Parallel To Eternity

A break in the social equilibrium,
A crack in the window of time.
An invisible world running parallel,
An eternally extending line.

Some mirrors serve as sheer portals,
Television screens are tiny worm holes.
A world of identical mere mortals,
All playing identically formed roles.

Crossing the line can consume you,
Once there you may never come back.
In space the holes are like vacuums,
From a distance they appear to be black.

To step through one is to cross a dimension,
A warp in both reality and time.
For some it's an eternal suspension.
For others, like no experience they'll find.

Once through you can turn back and see yourself,
In your present day physical state and mind.
You can speak but you cannot hear yourself,
You can look but stare too long, you'll go blind.

The parallel world you're now a part of,
Is exactly like the one you left behind.
The only real difference I can think of
Is in this new world holes aren't so hard to find.

There one can look through any mirror,
See the same person in the same place and time.
Television screens cannot harm you,
As long as everyone's not off at the same time.

People are all cloned and duplicated,
The world's a virtual facsimile.
To be one's self is to be replicated,
A mirror image of all that men see.

A new world that our minds have created.
Running parallel from here to eternity.



Copyright © November 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
111309

The Broken Violin

In the rear of a local antique shop.
Sitting on an old wooden shelf,
Was a box old and worn.
Somewhat tattered and torn.
Alone and all by itself.

The shop was full of all kinds of things,
Some rare and other just debris.
It's hard to stand out,
When your left without,
A proper self-image and dignity.

People walked by and never even tried
To see what may lie within.
They'd pick and choose,
Often refuse
Didn't care or know where to begin.

One day an old man in search of treasure,
Spied the box and decided to peek in.
Once he eyed,
What was inside,
It produced a most heartfelt grin.

For there in a bed of faded old paper,
Laying prouder that it had ever been,
Was a worn instrument,
A forlorn embellishment,
Of an old bow and broken violin.

It was fairly well kept, comfortable where it slept,
It had obviously once been well used.
Along with other things,
It was missing some strings.
With TLC it could be brought back almost new.

God's gifts are funny, they don't need much money,
Just attention and sincere tender care.
Given a chance,
A life's enhanced,
Redemption takes concern, love and prayer.

The man took the box home and tendered his gift,
He had a delicate soothing touch.
It didn't take long,
To produce a sweet song,
From this fellow that had suffered so much.

Some folks live their lives and never realize,
Their potential and God given worth.
They sit on some shelf,
Never motivate themselves,
Their destiny pre-determinded at birth.

In some old shop one might pause and stop,
Take the time to help out a fellow man.
It doesn't take much,
To reach out and touch,
Those that may need a helping hand.

The old man learned to play, and brighten folks day,
With his new social partner and friend.
Most people say,
He relishes the day,
He found his treasure in an old broken violin.





Copyright © November 2009
Kevin Mooney

km001
111109

Deja Vu

I am a brief reflection,
A breath of cool fresh air,
A gentle breeze,
A winter freeze,
An inkling of something once there.

I am a child's first instinct,
A newborn's first heard cry,
A mother's tension,
Her apprehension,
The tear in a father's eye.

I am the warmth of fire,
A cold winter's welcome reprieve,
A pine cone scent,
An inner reverence,
The sense of knowing a need.

I lie deep inside you,
Nestled in your mind.
A latent look,
The crack of a book,
A memory left behind.

I make a subtle appearance,
When opportunities arise.
Reveal myself,
When something else,
Challenges my disguise.

A manifested illusion,
A thought that helps decide,
An innate intuition,
Instinctive vision,
A blind decision on which to abide.

I am a hint of nostalgia,
A reincarnated clue,
An internal perception,
A thought resurrection,
I am a deja vu.




Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney

Life in Perspective

Tulips breakthrough shrouds of dirt,
Birds coddle their unhatched eggs.
Warmer winds slowly caress the earth,
As fawns teeter on wobbly legs.

Melting snow gives way to green,
As a yearning fills the air.
Dismal grey slowly turns serene,
As blossoms sprout everywhere.

New beginnings, signs of spring,
God and Mother Nature's rapport.
The symphony of wonder that each year brings,
Times to reflect and adore.

Life begins every moment,
There's new light in each hemisphere.
Cherish it with sober atonement,
For death is perpetually near.

Sixty seconds become a minute,
Sixty minutes become a hour.
One hundred sixty eight hours in a week,
Fifty two weeks turn into a year.

Eight thousand seven hundred thirty six,
In a year, its the hours that have been.
That's 365 days, give or take,
Three thousand six fifty in 10.

Eighty seven thousand six hundred hours,
Age 10 and growing fast.
To get to 50 multiply by five.
Four hundred thirty eight thousand past.

Those are the hours in half a century,
In minutes, twenty six million point three.
Times that by two and again by 60,
Three point two billion seconds make a century.

Divide that by 100 to get seconds in a year,
Divide 60 to get the minutes gone by.
Divide that by another 60 then multiply your age,
That approximates life hours for your and I.

When we're born our life clock appears,
One's lifetime starts ticking by.
Minutes become hours, days turn to years,
A different perspective of how we live and die.




Copyright © October 2009
Kevin Mooney

The Paradox of Oz (Pink Floyd Tribute)

This poem is for all the Wizard of Oz and Dark Side of the Moon fans out there...


To the faithful few and young in heart,
Dedicated fans from the start.
Speak to me, in a delicate way.
Listen to what I have to say...

Hold your breath then breathe the air.
We all have our own crosses to bear.
Objectively observe the philosophy of time,
Metaphoric riddles and satirical rhyme.
Think of something more to say.
Tomorrow's just a day away.
Live to learn and learn to share,
Strive to go where other's dare.
Each year's shorter day by day,
Time keeps slowly ticking away.

Don't let troubles tear you apart,
It takes courage to have a heart,
No need to think to use your brain,
So lie in sunshine, watch the rain.
Wait for someone to show you the way,
Think there's something more to say?
Quietly desperate, in an offhand way,
Lose your balance, land in hay,
Pose for a statue while on the run,
Look for darkness under the sun.

Somewhere a rainbow arches the sky,
While cyclones appear and houses fly by.
Run Toto run, you're the chosen one,
Evil finds a weakness in everyone.
Sympathy's musical jestered throng,
A symphony-sweet angelic song.
A land exists in a lullaby,
Where troubles melt then liquify.
Wish upon stars and moons fully bright,
Where darkness lurks, and day is night.

A cinemascoped world of black and white.
An open door to any colour you like.
Where diminutive people seem larger than life.
While good and bad witches sport red-rubied strife.
Adventures seem easy when there's one road to choose.
It's us against them, there's no time to lose.
Follow your instincts down roads of yellow brick,
Be wary of diversions, walk cautiously quick.
The lost seek guidance, it's a circular cause.
A lesson learned blindly, it's the paradox of oz.

Look for new friends along life's way.
Race against time towards an early grave.
Remember it's not the peers you choose.
It's they who decide who'll win and who'll lose.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste.
Lunatics laugh to fill empty space,
Listen for heartbeats of immortal men,
Tear-rusted soldiers made of tin.
Totem-treed faces cast apples adieu,
Fire-balled threats, "and your little dog, too".

And when the road taken seems full of despair,
Be weary of Lions, Tigers and Bears.
It's courage that divides the weak and the strong,
Fear that decides whose right and whose wrong.
The bite of a dog is worse than it's bark.
A friend's one to hold, not tear apart.
Virtue's eclipsed by the valor of men,
Their will to survive, their struggle to win.
God only knows what a man will choose,
Faced with a choice and nothing to lose.

If castles loom in the future ahead,
And it's there your mind's sole purpose is lead,
Don't fritter and waste hours that make a dull day.
Don't twitter with flowers that may cause delay.
Far, far ahead across poppy seed fields,
A Sorcerer's castle of emerald and teal.
Press on toward your goal, even when tired,
It'll be good to warm beside the fire.
And if on first try you're turned away,
Identify what brought you, don't dismay.

Once you've discovered your pot of gold,
Watch for evil's telltale hold.
Equine, kaleidoscopic hues,
Fearful citizens' optic views.
Gigs in the sky, words etched in the clouds,
Threatening scrolls of surrender abound.
A meeting of the mind, in the plural sense.
Opulant sorcery frugally spent.
An impossible task, one sure to lose,
Unmeasureable odds, no choice to choose.

Us and them, me and you,
Up and down, black and blue
A galiant quest for a tetrad crew,
A dubious trot, a trepid coup.
Up and down and round and round,
A conjectured plot from emerald town,
A jestered jaunt on jittery knees,
Where evil lurks among restless trees.
Believable spooks and winged monkeys loom,
So which is a witch and whom is whom?

Down and out, there's no place to go,
With or without, tossed to and fro.
It can't be stopped, this maniacle bout,
Who can deny what the fighting's about?
Rich is rich and poor is poor,
A lunatic lies behind a locked door.
A vessel of time, mourned solitude,
Visions sublime, sworn restitute.
Unlock the door, don't throw away the key,
There's someone in my head and it's not me.

Run Toto run, soar once again,
Seek the heroics of ordinary men.
Winkies march in cadenced unison,
Valiant efforts of courageous friends,
Circumvent afflictions with axe and sword,
Breakdown constrictions with dissonant accord.
Though toils and troubles may bolster your fear,
It takes heat and rain to make rainbows appear.
No matter how difficult life seems to get,
Witches are harmless as long as their wet.

Seek that which brought you to the edge of doom,
The sourse of your purpose, a magical broom.
Return and find refuge in false sorcery,
Chrystal ball visions of devine destiny.
All that you touch and all that you see,
Is that the essense of what you believe?
Seek what eludes you, don't blankly assume,
That everything under the sun is in tune.
Conspire to clip fate's binds that loom,
Sever faith bourn tetherred balloons.

When all else fails and there's no hope, it seems,
Recall life's learned lessons, played out in your dreams.
Look for reminders, the means to all ends,
That which defines you, your family and friends.
And if the band you're in plays a different tune,
Imagine you're safe in your own solitude.
When the sun is eclipsed, it's light all consumed,
I'll look for you on the dark side of the moon.
Take solace in knowing that a mind's helpless roam,
Is three heel taps away...there's no place like home.




Copyright © August 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm027
080109

The Perfect Poem

The perfect poem has a distinctive flair,
It spurs emotions with prose, rhythm and rhyme.
It's presented with confidence and precision care,
Arranged imagery that flows in cadenced time.
Its word selection is choreographed,
It's a window into a poet's mind.
It's enhanced with acrostic and metaphoric frames,
It's a parable with hidden messages between certain lines.
It exudes feelings of love, hurt and pain,
Or makes a point of the philosophical kind.
It's historical, pastoral, political or moral,
With stanzas categorical or sublime.
It's patriotic, symbolic, chaotic or comical,
About family, pets, animals or memories of good times.
There are so many styles, lengths and variables,
That make a great poem rhetorically shine.
But the perfect poem evokes thoughts and intangibles,
Raw feelings that readers might otherwise not find.




Copyright © October 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
100109

The Realm of Darkness

This is a song. Think "The Sounds of Silence"...


A seamless shroud of ardent black,
Null surrounds those vision lacked.
Thoughts reveal what only blind men see.
Truths concealed within instinctively,
Scenes minds mimic claustrophobically,
Serve to sustain,
The realm of darkness.

Disguised in clouds, shrouded in purple haze,
Amidst the sounds of a street-lined maze.
People talking that eyes can't see,
Virtual walking hypnotically.
Tethered strings held taut, unseen,
Provide brief refrain,
From the realm of darkness.

A candlelight can free us all,
From the blight of disparity's call.
A veil of shadows entombs the sight,
Of those condemned to roam the night.
Each early morning's radiant skies,
Becomes a day's new sunrise.
And breaks the spell of darkness.

Well past dawn's break of day,
Streaks of light quell midnight's fray.
Stars impale dark's private room,
Blue skies curtail impending gloom.
Scenes played out in silent words,
Soliloquies of voices heard,
Disturb the shell of darkness.

And when the final act's begun,
The night gives way to blessed sun.
Those deformed search for signs,
Of life reborn and better times.
Questions written oppressed men seek,
Answers hidden from the terminally weak,
Eternal frailties etched in stone,
Internally brailled, sins atoned.
Preserved alone in a Realm of Darkness.



Copyright © October 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
102409

Dream Seekers

This piece is written to describe the accompanying painting by a favorite surreal artist of mine. His name is Jon Pitre. Some have described him as the modern day DeVinci. This particular piece is entitled Dream Seekers....



Reaching beyond the normal
To where yearned visions lie.
Searching for true destiny,
Upon born instincts fly.

Gathering vested courage,
A lifetime at your side,
Preparing for struggles before you,
Not knowing what you'll find.

Savoring every victory,
Come wind or rain or shine.
Sailing toward new horizons,
Leaving the past behind.

Pressing past mental boundaries,
Challenging your mind.
Achieving the life that calls you,
One small step at a time.

In search of new adventures,
Building confidence with every stride.
Defining a brave new future,
Having the time of your life.

Weaving skill into virtue,
Reality mere mortals visualize.
Capturing God's Kodak moments,
True quests Dream Seekers fantasize.


Copyright © September 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
102309

The Paradox of Oz

This poem is for all the Wizard of Oz and Dark Side of the Moon fans out there...


To the faithful few and young in heart,
Dedicated fans from the start.
Speak to me, in a delicate way.
Listen to what I have to say...

Hold your breath then breathe the air.
We all have our own crosses to bear.
Objectively observe the philosophy of time,
Metaphoric riddles and satirical rhyme.
Think of something more to say.
Tomorrow's just a day away.
Live to learn and learn to share,
Strive to go where other's dare.
Each year's shorter day by day,
Time keeps slowly ticking away.

Don't let troubles tear you apart,
It takes courage to have a heart,
No need to think to use your brain,
So lie in sunshine, watch the rain.
Wait for someone to show you the way,
Think there's something more to say?
Quietly desperate, in an offhand way,
Lose your balance, land in hay,
Pose for a statue while on the run,
Look for darkness under the sun.

Somewhere a rainbow arches the sky,
While cyclones appear and houses fly by.
Run Toto run, you're the chosen one,
Evil finds a weakness in everyone.
Sympathy's musical jestered throng,
A symphony-sweet angelic song.
A land exists in a lullaby,
Where troubles melt then liquify.
Wish upon stars and moons fully bright,
Where darkness lurks, and day is night.

A cinemascoped world of black and white.
An open door to any colour you like.
Where diminutive people seem larger than life.
While good and bad witches sport red-rubied strife.
Adventures seem easy when there's one road to choose.
It's us against them, there's no time to lose.
Follow your instincts down roads of yellow brick,
Be wary of diversions, walk cautiously quick.
The lost seek guidance, it's a circular cause.
A lesson learned blindly, it's the paradox of oz.

Look for new friends along life's way.
Race against time towards an early grave.
Remember it's not the peers you choose.
It's they who decide who'll win and who'll lose.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste.
Lunatics laugh to fill empty space,
Listen for heartbeats of immortal men,
Tear-rusted soldiers made of tin.
Totem-treed faces cast apples adieu,
Fire-balled threats, "and your little dog, too".

And when the road taken seems full of despair,
Be weary of Lions, Tigers and Bears.
It's courage that divides the weak and the strong,
Fear that decides whose right and whose wrong.
The bite of a dog is worse than it's bark.
A friend's one to hold, not tear apart.
Virtue's eclipsed by the valor of men,
Their will to survive, their struggle to win.
God only knows what a man will choose,
Faced with a choice and nothing to lose.

If castles loom in the future ahead,
And it's there your mind's sole purpose is lead,
Don't fritter and waste hours that make a dull day.
Don't twitter with flowers that may cause delay.
Far, far ahead across poppy seed fields,
A Sorcerer's castle of emerald and teal.
Press on toward your goal, even when tired,
It'll be good to warm beside the fire.
And if on first try you're turned away,
Identify what brought you, don't dismay.

Once you've discovered your pot of gold,
Watch for evil's telltale hold.
Equine, kaleidoscopic hues,
Fearful citizens' optic views.
Gigs in the sky, words etched in the clouds,
Threatening scrolls of surrender abound.
A meeting of the mind, in the plural sense.
Opulant sorcery frugally spent.
An impossible task, one sure to lose,
Unmeasureable odds, no choice to choose.

Us and them, me and you,
Up and down, black and blue
A galiant quest for a tetrad crew,
A dubious trot, a trepid coup.
Up and down and round and round,
A conjectured plot from emerald town,
A jestered jaunt on jittery knees,
Where evil lurks among restless trees.
Believable spooks and winged monkeys loom,
So which is a witch and whom is whom?

Down and out, there's no place to go,
With or without, tossed to and fro.
It can't be stopped, this maniacle bout,
Who can deny what the fighting's about?
Rich is rich and poor is poor,
A lunatic lies behind a locked door.
A vessel of time, mourned solitude,
Visions sublime, sworn restitute.
Unlock the door, don't throw away the key,
There's someone in my head and it's not me.

Run Toto run, soar once again,
Seek the heroics of ordinary men.
Winkies march in cadenced unison,
Valiant efforts of courageous friends,
Circumvent afflictions with axe and sword,
Breakdown constrictions with dissonant accord.
Though toils and troubles may bolster your fear,
It takes heat and rain to make rainbows appear.
No matter how difficult life seems to get,
Witches are harmless as long as their wet.

Seek that which brought you to the edge of doom,
The sourse of your purpose, a magical broom.
Return and find refuge in false sorcery,
Chrystal ball visions of devine destiny.
All that you touch and all that you see,
Is that the essense of what you believe?
Seek what eludes you, don't blankly assume,
That everything under the sun is in tune.
Conspire to clip fate's binds that loom,
Sever faith bourn tetherred balloons.

When all else fails and there's no hope, it seems,
Recall life's learned lessons, played out in your dreams.
Look for reminders, the means to all ends,
That which defines you, your family and friends.
And if the band you're in plays a different tune,
Imagine you're safe in your own solitude.
When the sun is eclipsed, it's light all consumed,
I'll look for you on the dark side of the moon.
Take solace in knowing that a mind's helpless roam,
Is three heel taps away...there's no place like home.




Copyright © August 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm027
080109

The Power of Time

The earth's unending motions,
The sun's eternal shine,
Drops of rain become an ocean,
Within the realm of time.

At first a clock's indolent,
As infant's we've much to learn.
As hours become less solvent,
Wheels increase their turn.

The future becomes the present,
The present becomes the past.
Time's forever incessant,
Too fluid to ever last.

Savor every moment,
Treasure what you have,
Nothing lasts forever,
Time always sees to that.



Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

Friends

They come and they go,
Like winter and snow,
Fleeting casts of characters,
In one's life picture show.

But where do they go?

Illuminated present,
Figmentations passed,
Incongruent yesteryear's,
It all moves too fast.

But will it last?

What about tomorrow?
And tomorrow after that?
Will my life have changed so dramatically,
That there's no turning back?

Answer me that?

Life's so unpredictable,
Often better in the end,
Treasure every moment,
Every moment's a Godsend.

Remember your friends.


Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

The Sky

The earth is forever changing,
Kaleidoscopically round.
The sky's the earth's encasing,
But are we really bound?

The universe seems so endless,
Distance in time and sound.
Time's the fourth dimension,
Will other dimensions be found?

According to Einstein's theory,
Our reference frame must be defined.
Then new scales may be discovered,
Black holes, warps in time?

Quasars may be a beginning,
Black holes' other sides?
For there, may lie the answers,
Boundaries?
Dimensions?
Celestial Life?



Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

In The Void

Once, everything stopped.
The wind stopped blowing,
The earth stopped turning,
Rivers stopped flowing,
The sun stopped burning.

All the while, I was awake.

For a fleeting moment,
A fragment of time,
Everything around me stopped.

And I was wide awake.

Who could I tell?
Who would believe me?
I was the only one there.
Alone in the void.

Wide, wide awake.

At least I was the only one there,
Who knew I was there.
I know I was there.

I know I was.

I was!

I was!!

I am!!!



Copyright © May 1980
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

050180

Brainwashed

Are we who we think we are?
In otherwords,
We believe what we are told,
Of generations old.
Truth's the written word.
Absurd?
Predetermined Future,
Surrealistic past.
Someone's perfect creature,
In flesh and bone we're cast.
Should we ask?
We are who we are?
At least that's what we believe.
That which we are taught,
Is that which we conceive?
Do you believe?


Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

Tomorrow

Today is yesterday's tomorrow,
Tomorrow's always a day away,
Yesterday has already happened,
So remember tomorrow, yesterday's today...


Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

The Paradox

Two are one, au contraire,
Separate lives for one to share.
I'll go your way, you go mine,
In the end, a single line.
Distant future, instant past,
Memories fade but always last.
Here tomorrow, gone today,
What's the matter, whose to say?
Hold on carefully with all your might,
As eagles fly into the night.
The sun sets earlier this time of year,
Smile, be happy, shed a tear.
God is gracious, God is kind,
Love is faceless, love is blind.
Listen closely and you shall see,
The only paradox here is me.



Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
100180

What Would It Be Like?

I wrote this in 1980 when the war in Afghanistan was going on. Ironically it still is...


One day I was driving home from school.
I saw two army trucks, dressed in camouflage and green paint,
Rolling down the highway, heading in the opposite direction.
It was an unusual sight, and ironic at the time,
When war seemed so inevitable.
I watched as they drove by, seemingly unnoticed,
And thought to myself...

What would it be like?

To live in a world such as Korea, Vietnam or Afghanistan,
Where military trucks rolling down the highway is a common site,
A belligerent world, where soldiers line the streets,
And fighter jets and helicopters fill the air.

What would it be like?

To live in constant fear.
To never be sure what tomorrow will bring.
To not know the meaning of trust and love of thy neighbor.
To watch people that you know die before your eyes.

What would it be like?


Copyright © May 1980
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
05011980

The Human Zoo

On Sunday, February 3, 1980, I saw the Lorton Criminal Rehabilitation Center for the first time...


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 1980
Kevin Mooney

kmm001
050180

Hear The People

On one occasion, There came an invasion,
Without preparation,
On the People

They squirmed in frustration,
Cried of starvation,
Damned the duration,
Did the People.

A once sovereign nation,
Faced obliteration,
"God save your creation,"
Cried the People.

There was then a sensation,
Complete devastation,
No more evasion,
For the People.

The Ninth Revelation,
Einstein's equation,
Ensured elimination,
Beyond recreation,
Hear the people!

Hear the People?

No more People.

Copyright © October 1980
Kevin Mooney

kmmoo1
100180

Please Listen

I wrote this poem in May of 1980. The painting is by Jon Pitre called A New Dawn (google it). It is a post apocalyptic rendition of New York City. It was painted in 1966 on almost the exact site of ground zero for 9/11. The twin towers were built in 1971. I own this print...


Today, yesterday, tomorrow, Is it all worth the sorrow?
Nation's divided,
People misguided,
How many lives must we borrow?

In a world where oil and gold glisten,
Where love for thy neighbor is missin'
Men abandon thy hate,
Respect one another's fate,
And to the future's bleak cry just listen.

Truth's a political thorn,
Between right and wrong we are torn,
Forget the past,
Avoid the blast,
Hear the bugler's faint horn.

To those everywhere cast your blessings,
For life in this world's beyond messing,
Dispose of thy arms,
Sound the alarms,
And for God's sake please listen.



Copyright © May 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm069
050180