It lay there in a heap
Blood oozing from the cracks
In the many layers of filth
That covered its greatness
The many layers of filth
Heaped on by its enemies
Layer after filthy layer
Smothering its glory
I put my ear to the pile
And listened intently for life
Any sign of life at all
Any sound that emanates
Any movement, warmth, or cry
I listened intently for signs
Plugged my other ear
And listened
And listened
And then…..
There it was
Faint and seemingly dying
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
It was still alive under that heap
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Fighting for its own survival
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Readied for a great revival
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
So I jumped to my feet
And went into action
Pulling layer after layer of filth
From the heap we all had built
The heap of lies and deceit
Thoughtlessness and selfish ambitions
The garbage of unrighteous endeavors
Bags of evil human inhumanness
All piled on through twisted laws
Bought and paid for by Satan himself
The heap grew smaller as I dug
I paused to listen once again
Once again I heard the beat
Louder this time, and a bit faster
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
I think it sensed my efforts
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
It knew my intent was honest
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
But the heap of filth was massive
My strength was waning under the strain
I began do doubt my resolve
Could I clean up this mess alone
Maybe
Maybe not
But I would rather die trying
Than live knowing I did nothing
So I dug, pulled, pushed, and threw
Layer after layer of filth from the heap
Sweat dripped from my brow
Blood oozed from my swollen hands
Then somewhere in my endeavor
I lost all sense of time and feelings
Fell into a state of euphoric madness
In a frenzied rage, I passed out
Awakened by the noise of
Frantic laborers all around me
Digging, pulling, pushing, and throwing
Layer after layer of filth from the heap
Sweat dripping from their brows
Blood oozing from their swollen hands
Joining me in my once hopeless endeavor
I jumped again to my feet
And joined them in their action
Once again hitting a rapid rhythm
No longer alone
No longer wondering
If what I had started would fail
It would not
We would succeed
The heap would be removed
And she would live again
She would be great again
Once again she would be
As she had for so many years
The example of liberty
The light of the world
The land of the free
And the home of the brave
We hear the critics who put God down.
His Son’s name being taken in vain.
Though we feel offended, we do not speak.
Our silence causes God much pain.
But in our minds we rationalize
Make excuses to justify.
And God asks us why.
Yet we deny
Every day, God’s name is belittled.
We listen quietly as others laugh.
Yet, we stand not in His defense.
It’s a shame, He died on our behalf.
We speak not, because we fear
That our so-called friends might hear
About our God, so near
Our God, so dear.
Still we doubt God’s awesome power
We take Him for granted every day
He’s proven Himself time after time
Yet, we question, even when we pray.
We forget the things He’s done.
We neglect Jesus, His Son.
He is the Chosen One
What have we done?
Born naked and cold in a house on Main Street
Destined for greatness? Or at least a few great moments
Grew to be a man in the frigid cold Northeast
No future there, so the military provided me an escape
And escape I did. To roam the world for years
Serving the nation, and enjoying the ride of my life
Found my true love, and made the ride even better
Kids filled the home with laughter, love, and great memories
Grew to be fine adults and gave us beautiful grandchildren
A life so blessed that I cannot thank God enough
The Stray
He showed up at our door, so small and cute
Poop stuck to the fur of his tail and legs
Where had he come from? No one had a clue
But the two fur balls inside would not welcome him
So we gave him some food and closed the door
That was a mistake. For the next day he returned
And being a soft hearted soul, I fed him again
After three days, the wife said to let him in
We bathed him, fed him and he loved us back
Now it’s as if he’s always been in our family
Crossing the Line
Another night of concerts with the same group of friends
Standing, clapping and singing ‘till the concert neared its end
Before the invitation started, I would make my way outside
The souvenirs were calling me; I’d be first at tableside
But the audience prevented me from my every concert flight
Guess I’d be present for the invitation this very night
“I Wish We’d All Been Ready” softly filled the air
Perspiration started beading through my skin and in my hair
“The King is Coming” filled the auditorium and my soul
That night I crossed the line and gave God control
I do not like to reminisce
The past is gone; I do not miss
I only think of what is now
And what will come, and when, and how
The past is past, and now is now
We can’t go back there anyhow
But if we could go back somehow
I think I’d stay right here, right now
‘Cause it’s not me to reminisce
The past is gone; I do not miss
A Saturday
A Saturday, I do recall
She slept as I went to the mall
Time to initiate my plan
Time for me to become her man
I’d put a rock upon her hand
And ask her if, with me she’d stand
Follow up with a wedding band
Forever with me, hand in hand
With her, I’d be a happy man
A Saturday, I do recall
When she said yes, she’d be my all
Hypocrites
They stand behind their podiums
Blaming others for their own sins
Sins committed while seeking rule
Just one more political tool
Designed to trick the voting pool
With promises that sound real cool
A real cool tool designed to fool
And fool it did; they retained rule
Four more years of shameless sins
Presented from their podiums
Fond memories of childhood
My mentor and hero at center
He was my grandfather
No greater man in my eyes
He raised me
He loved me
He taught me what it meant
To be a man
He set the bar high
For himself
And he lived up to every
Expectation
Now a grandfather myself
His lessons I’ve taken
His high bar is my goal
And all I want to do is
Live up to his expectations
I just wish he were here
To see the fruit of his efforts
One-Room Schoolhouse
It wasn’t red
But it was little
That one-room schoolhouse
Back in the woods
Four grades of children
Sixteen in all
Taught by one teacher
Mrs. Bradley was her name
She loved us all
Just like her own
And we loved her
And that little schoolhouse
Back in the woods
In times long past
Drove by the site
Where the schoolhouse stood
In times long past
But nothing remained
Except the memories
So many great memories
Days Long Past
Life was so simple
Fathers lead the family
Mothers ran the home
Children obeyed
Families prospered
Communities united
The churches were filled
And God was the Center
Of our existence
Are those days old fashioned
Gone forever
Passé
Or do we need to return to them
Heart of America
It lay there in a heap
Blood oozing from the cracks
In the many layers of filth
That covered its greatness
The many layers of filth
Heaped on by its enemies
Layer after filthy layer
Smothering its glory
I put my ear to the pile
And listened intently for life
Any sign of life at all
Any sound that emanates
Any movement, warmth, or cry
I listened intently for signs
Plugged my other ear
And listened
And listened
And then…..
There it was
Faint and seemingly dying
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
It was still alive under that heap
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Fighting for its own survival
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Readied for a great revival
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
Ba-bump……… Ba-bump……..
So I jumped to my feet
And went into action
Pulling layer after layer of filth
From the heap we all had built
The heap of lies and deceit
Thoughtlessness and selfish ambitions
The garbage of unrighteous endeavors
Bags of evil human inhumanness
All piled on through twisted laws
Bought and paid for by Satan himself
The heap grew smaller as I dug
I paused to listen once again
Once again I heard the beat
Louder this time, and a bit faster
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
I think it sensed my efforts
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
It knew my intent was honest
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
Ba-bump… Ba-bump… Ba-bump…
But the heap of filth was massive
My strength was waning under the strain
I began do doubt my resolve
Could I clean up this mess alone
Maybe
Maybe not
But I would rather die trying
Than live knowing I did nothing
So I dug, pulled, pushed, and threw
Layer after layer of filth from the heap
Sweat dripped from my brow
Blood oozed from my swollen hands
Then somewhere in my endeavor
I lost all sense of time and feelings
Fell into a state of euphoric madness
In a frenzied rage, I passed out
Awakened by the noise of
Frantic laborers all around me
Digging, pulling, pushing, and throwing
Layer after layer of filth from the heap
Sweat dripping from their brows
Blood oozing from their swollen hands
Joining me in my once hopeless endeavor
I jumped again to my feet
And joined them in their action
Once again hitting a rapid rhythm
No longer alone
No longer wondering
If what I had started would fail
It would not
We would succeed
The heap would be removed
And she would live again
She would be great again
Once again she would be
As she had for so many years
The example of liberty
The light of the world
The land of the free
And the home of the brave
BA-BUMP.. BA-BUMP..BA-BUMP..
BA-BUMP.. BA-BUMP..BA-BUMP..
BA-BUMP.. BA-BUMP..BA-BUMP..
BA-BUMP.. BA-BUMP..BA-BUMP..
The Heart of America beats on
I am the Heart of America
Earl Parsons
Copyright © Earl Parsons 2011
For Love of Country
America, the Beautiful
A land with freedoms plentiful
A shining beacon on a hill
Where hopes mature and dreams fulfill
I love this land where I live free
The land of opportunity
Where all men can pursue their will
Where hopes mature and dreams fulfill
America will never die
As long as freedom’s colors fly
No tyranny can break our will
Where hopes mature and dreams fulfill
I’d give my life for freedom’s fight
Liberty’s light must shine on bright
My love for country well instilled
Where hopes mature and dreams fulfill
America, the Beautiful
Where hopes mature and dreams fulfill
Another Road
Had I traveled another road
Oh the stories I might have told
What adventures I might have seen
What, oh what could I have been
If I could see what I would be
Had I lived life differently
Would I do things over again
What, oh what could I have been
Would I have been a millionaire
A spy that travels everywhere
Perhaps the coolest on the scene
What, oh what could I have been
A millionaire, a spy, or cool
Who is it I’m trying to fool
What’s done is done, know what I mean
What, oh what could I have been
Had I traveled another road
What, oh what could I have been
What Have We Done?
We hear the critics who put God down.
His Son’s name being taken in vain.
Though we feel offended, we do not speak.
Our silence causes God much pain.
But in our minds we rationalize
Make excuses to justify.
And God asks us why.
Yet we deny
Every day, God’s name is belittled.
We listen quietly as others laugh.
Yet, we stand not in His defense.
It’s a shame, He died on our behalf.
We speak not, because we fear
That our so-called friends might hear
About our God, so near
Our God, so dear.
Still we doubt God’s awesome power
We take Him for granted every day
He’s proven Himself time after time
Yet, we question, even when we pray.
We forget the things He’s done.
We neglect Jesus, His Son.
He is the Chosen One
What have we done?
The 10×10 challenge (#100)
Blessed Life
Born naked and cold in a house on Main Street
Destined for greatness? Or at least a few great moments
Grew to be a man in the frigid cold Northeast
No future there, so the military provided me an escape
And escape I did. To roam the world for years
Serving the nation, and enjoying the ride of my life
Found my true love, and made the ride even better
Kids filled the home with laughter, love, and great memories
Grew to be fine adults and gave us beautiful grandchildren
A life so blessed that I cannot thank God enough
The Stray
He showed up at our door, so small and cute
Poop stuck to the fur of his tail and legs
Where had he come from? No one had a clue
But the two fur balls inside would not welcome him
So we gave him some food and closed the door
That was a mistake. For the next day he returned
And being a soft hearted soul, I fed him again
After three days, the wife said to let him in
We bathed him, fed him and he loved us back
Now it’s as if he’s always been in our family
Crossing the Line
Another night of concerts with the same group of friends
Standing, clapping and singing ‘till the concert neared its end
Before the invitation started, I would make my way outside
The souvenirs were calling me; I’d be first at tableside
But the audience prevented me from my every concert flight
Guess I’d be present for the invitation this very night
“I Wish We’d All Been Ready” softly filled the air
Perspiration started beading through my skin and in my hair
“The King is Coming” filled the auditorium and my soul
That night I crossed the line and gave God control
PB #101: Duo Rhymes
Reminisce
An ode to the Dr.
I do not like to reminisce
The past is gone; I do not miss
I only think of what is now
And what will come, and when, and how
The past is past, and now is now
We can’t go back there anyhow
But if we could go back somehow
I think I’d stay right here, right now
‘Cause it’s not me to reminisce
The past is gone; I do not miss
A Saturday
A Saturday, I do recall
She slept as I went to the mall
Time to initiate my plan
Time for me to become her man
I’d put a rock upon her hand
And ask her if, with me she’d stand
Follow up with a wedding band
Forever with me, hand in hand
With her, I’d be a happy man
A Saturday, I do recall
When she said yes, she’d be my all
Hypocrites
They stand behind their podiums
Blaming others for their own sins
Sins committed while seeking rule
Just one more political tool
Designed to trick the voting pool
With promises that sound real cool
A real cool tool designed to fool
And fool it did; they retained rule
Four more years of shameless sins
Presented from their podiums
PB #103: Time Past
Grampy Earl
Fond memories of childhood
My mentor and hero at center
He was my grandfather
No greater man in my eyes
He raised me
He loved me
He taught me what it meant
To be a man
He set the bar high
For himself
And he lived up to every
Expectation
Now a grandfather myself
His lessons I’ve taken
His high bar is my goal
And all I want to do is
Live up to his expectations
I just wish he were here
To see the fruit of his efforts
One-Room Schoolhouse
It wasn’t red
But it was little
That one-room schoolhouse
Back in the woods
Four grades of children
Sixteen in all
Taught by one teacher
Mrs. Bradley was her name
She loved us all
Just like her own
And we loved her
And that little schoolhouse
Back in the woods
In times long past
Drove by the site
Where the schoolhouse stood
In times long past
But nothing remained
Except the memories
So many great memories
Days Long Past
Life was so simple
Fathers lead the family
Mothers ran the home
Children obeyed
Families prospered
Communities united
The churches were filled
And God was the Center
Of our existence
Are those days old fashioned
Gone forever
Passé
Or do we need to return to them