Wednesday, 19 December 2012

A sack full of pain.

The blood of another brother
Heaped a load of hurt on my mother
My father driven insane would never be the same
His only gain from hiding his pain like a sack full of shame

Digging for gold, he wasn’t that old
Twenty-one, if you need to be told
Pounding rock in a hole when four ton of loose let go like a noose
Ending his life in a flash like a slash of a knife

It’s a sad thing to say at the end of the day
After you’ve picked up your tools and worked like fools
That your largest gain was a sack full of pain
And that toil and strife would map the end of a life

The hole in the ground was the place he was found
His tram a wreck but he couldn’t give a damn, not with his broken neck
There was dirt in his eyes and it was all washed aside
When Mama bent over him and her tears fell while she cried

So it was the end of October with the autumn winds on our shoulders
I pulled him out of the ground and took him to town
We wrapped him in a blue suit and laced on some new boots
They dug a new hole; we pushed him in low, and threw some loose upon him

And we that’s left behind got up and walked to the mine
We picked up our tools and we worked like fools
And it’s a sad thing to say at the end of the day
That our largest gain was a sack full of pain

Gunner ©

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Immersed in Gratitude

It’s hardly a few minutes before the crack of dawn
My alarm sounds off with a cathedral song
The coolness of the air a small sting when I throw off the sheet
And I’m suddenly aware of a small thing, I breathe.

I breathe in slow, a thirty count, and exhale
What is a long breath? Without it life would pale
I breathe in and hold till I gasp
My chest all tight my mind racing fast

I breathe! And I’m immersed in gratitude!

There on my left, my woman my wife
I recall her first morning in my arms; she became part of my life
Her heart a smooth beat there near her breast
A sweet whisper and her breath across my chest

She breathes! And I’m immersed in gratitude!

A rustling in the next room, my son's normal grumble
He flies down the stairs in a reckless tumble
I recall his very first breath, for his lungs a first test
When he joined us on our march to an inevitable death

He breathes! And I’m immersed in gratitude!

I hear the big lake throw her waves on my shore
Her tides come and go sometimes close to my door
Her lungs filled with all manner of life
The moon is her lover and he hugs her, each day twice

She Breathes! And I’m immersed in gratitude!

And through the glass pane before I rise
I see the twinkling of heaven's stars in the sky
A thousand suns born and spun
The universe alive with stardust and galaxies known to none

It breathes! And I’m immersed in gratitude!


Tuesday, 23 October 2012


Little David Mallet was the toughest nail in town.
Leaner and meaner than most and closer to the ground.
Fighting and thieving had been the story of his life
He had fists like iron claws and barbed wire teeth; he was a master with a knife

Big Jack Hammer was a slow and easy walker
And though its rumored he had indeed spoke once, he was not an eager talker
Built like a big old oak tree, he always seemed at ease
And its true you could suddenly find him standing in an empty place, unexpectedly

Sexy Mary Brown was the dream of every guy; she was the sweetest girl around
She had a long stride and batting eyes, she could turn a man to a panting hound
She loved to dance and she loved to prance and music turned her on
So you took your chances, made your advances, but you always end up gone

Now you know that David was the rooster of the walk; he sure did like to crow
And if you saw him prowling somewhere on the block, Jack was sure to be in tow
Together they had no fear, they shed no tears: they always shared their beer
And David knew when the blades were drew, Jack would be there too.

On the 8th of August, when the nights were hottest, the music played till dawn
And in the night, David caught Mary in his sight and over her he did fawn
They swirled and twirled, he held her close, she fell in tighter than most
He smoothed her well, she bought his tell and they left together when the dead bolt fell.

It was still dark when they crossed to the park and David wanted a kiss
He spun her round and forced apart her lips, but she whispered “No, no. Not like this”!
With a familiar rage he knocked her around and pushed her to the ground
She fought for her life and he pulled out his knife, “How do you want to be found?”

Big Jack Hammer was a slow and easy walker, not an eager talker
But his fists were heavy, they landed a bevy, and he dragged David off her
The flash of steel brought an end to the deal, and David went down hard
And he wondered how a man could move so well and find him caught off guard

And when the darkness came it was the end of Dave and no one felt any pain
And its rumored Jack spoke once, and its said he had the same to say again
“It was like the taste of a fine whiskey, my retribution.
But now, it’s a long and sober path over the mountain to absolution.”
Gunner ©

Thursday, 13 September 2012

The Fingers of the Wind

I have known the fingers of the wind
That soothing cool, that lingering caress
From the warmth of a child’s awakening grin
And on to the cool of an older man’s distress

I remember puppy dogs and playground slides
Slow summer days and giant waves
Grandma’s hugs and blueberry pies
Monster dairy cows and bumpy tractors hauling hay

Fleeting memories of a childhood rushed by
Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

The fire of the sun and cool of the moon
Pretty girls laughing and teasing
First loves hungry growl and a kiss ending too soon
Slow walks and long talks and passions found so pleasing

Fleeting memories of a youth rushed by
Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

Sailing ships off the northern docks
The gifts of children that calmed my rage
Working hard with a drill and a hammer busting rock
Coming home with a puppy dog in a cage

Fleeting memories of a young man’s life rushed by
Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

Autumn’s come and gone like the fall leaves tumbling from the sky
Children having children, toy plastic slides and puppy dogs abound
Grandmas in the kitchen making blueberry pie
And here I am feeling like I’ve lost my power and my ground

Fleeting memories of an older man’s life rushing by
Pushed by a whisper and a stroke from the fingers of the wind

Gunner  ©