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7 thoughts on “EARL PARSONS

  1. 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 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


    The Heart of America beats on
    I am the Heart of America

    Earl Parsons
    Copyright © Earl Parsons 2011

  2. 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

  3. 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

  4. 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?

  5. 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

  6. PB #101: Duo Rhymes

    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


    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

  7. 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

    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
    Or do we need to return to them

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