HOME
As the rest of the
world rattles and shakes
I enjoy coming home to
a warm smiling face,
the great out doors are
being torn apart
but, inside these walls
I feel safe in the dark.
I don’t understand what’s
going on over there
I only know that I
need you here,
sometimes when I’m tired
and cold
its so nice just
to be home.
I count my blessings
every day
I don’t take for granted
your loving ways,
I don’t want the grief or
the baggage that people have
I simply want to come
home and to hold your hand.
I’m a simple minded person
that’s lost in the world
and I like coming home
to my special girl,
I don’t expect anyone
to understand
all that matters is that
you and I can.
If people could only
see who they are
then they might
change…that’s a farce!
All I know is
what I see
and I see the way
you look at me.
Your green eyes
pull me in
while at the same time
you look within,
your warm hands
hold me close
and once again the
outside world is closed.
I write about people
and what they might do
but I never thought I’d
be sitting here loving you,
Its all so easy
when I’m at home
I feel completely safe…
loved…and warm.
The past is gone and
memories abound
but the future is open
and can’t tie me down,
wherever I go and
whatever I may see
nothing can compare
to you and me!!
Sometimes we laugh
and sometimes we cry
that’s what makes
great lullaby’s.
BC 6/2/02
Five More Minutes
Oklahoma City Bombing
As you stand on
this hallowed ground
never forget the tragedy
that struck us down.
Five more minutes is
all I would ask
to say, "goodbye," to my
loved ones before the blast.
On your deathbed before
your last breath
you'll ask for five more
minutes as your last request.
You'll take a breath
and feel the air
you'll talk freely
to no one in particular there.
You may laugh or
you may cry
but, you'll have five more
minutes before you die.
Standing at the edge
of time
I had no idea that
9:02 would be mine.
Had I known I
would have prayed
for there were children
on the second floor that played.
I would ask for their
lives to be spared
give them five minutes
to run and to disappear.
I would shout to
God with burning desire
to stop this madness
from going any higher.
I would plead and I
would beg
take me...take my life...
and not their's instead!
Five more minutes
is not a long time,
but it has become
an eternity of mine.
I never got to say
"goodbye"
I will never see a
child that is mine.
I will never cherish
another moment's thought
I will never sit with
my family and talk.
I will never share
a simple smile
I will never hold
my only child.
The devil's hand had
done its work
as 168 people lay
in rubble and dirt.
Jesus wept from
across the road
as I only wanted
five more minutes to be told.
Parents wore
badges of love
as their hearts grieved
to heaven above.
"Where is my baby?"
a woman screamed
frantically searching
with all her means.
"It's all a nightmare,"
someone said.
And all I wanted was five more
minutes to plead and to beg.
I saw the rescue workers
cry in the night
as the Red Cross organized the
confusion with wide open eyes.
The volunteers that toiled
'til dawn
worked for hours until the
last body was found.
The insulated heartland
was struck a mighty blow
as innocent people
found their way home.
I am under the Survivor Tree
come...and rest...
and sit with me.
This piece is dedicated to the 168 victims who lost their lives in the Oklahoma City Bombing and to their families and to the people all over the world.
BC
The Winds of Change
The days have changed
as the hours are the same
the calendar moves
in mysterious ways,
time marches on
as people change
moving away as
some stay the same.
As the moon and the sun
are different each day
time travels forward
in a miraculous way,
as black clouds move in
and blue clouds roll out
everyday has a challenge
and filled with self doubt.
Sometimes are dreams
vanish in dust
laying on the floor
so brutally crushed,
like a rose and its thorn
intertwined on a stem
our lives are mingled
with family and friends.
The star crest sky
so open and wide
yields the answers
to all our goodbyes,
open your eyes and
open your heart
unlock the changes
before you depart.
The wind and the rain
wash the earth
cleansing the soil
of man’s plastic dirt,
the trees and the water
allow us life
as we waste
the sun and the moon
our precious mornings and nights.
The cry within
that no one wants to hear
is yours to keep
your cross to bear,
unleash the truth
from your inner soul
freedom is your
to grasp and hold.
Undo the wrong
make a brand new day
filled with HAPPINESS…
find the way!
BC 12/15/98
"A Mother's Love"
A mother is the jack of every trade
She always works but never gets paid
When her children grow and leave
They leave their mother with a new life to weave
A mother can tell when you lie
No excuse will get you by
When trouble begins and you know she knows
That is where your problems grow
She may yell, scream and even fight
But deep down you know she is right
All your life she’s helped you out
Giving advice without a doubt
Your mother should be your very best friend
She will stick with you until the end
I want to say that my mother is true
And Mom, wherever we are, we all love you
BC
***This piece was in the Clearwater Sun newspaper on 1*9*83***
A Butterflies Flight
The days grow colder
as my life winds down
the days grow shorter
as the seasons turn around,
my craving for success
has taken its toll
I’m very tired and
a lot less bold.
I think less of
climbing the ladder
the money and prestige
just doesn’t matter,
the twilight mist
that is surrounding me
engulfs my thoughts
allowing my soul to be free.
The past is gone
and hardly seen
the future is beautiful
and so pristine,
I felt the wind
in my face
its stinging thoughts
have left no trace.
The bridge that connects
my heart and soul
is under repair
in the summer’s cold.
I have smelled the
perfume of a rose
I have touched
another’s soul,
there’s nothing left
for me to do
in a tired world
where nothing is new.
Sometimes I wonder
what’s on the other side
and would you miss me
and would you cry,
I am merely a speck
finding my way
walking the earth
day to day.
My heart that bleeds
for what is mine
is a life I’ve lived
that is well defined,
the saddest song is
the one not yet played
but I hear the
tune every single day.
I’ll leave you with
a simple thought…
My time is up
but I haven’t lost!
BC
Did My Mother Cry?
A piece about 911
On September 11th during
that fateful day
a coward was hiding
in his usual way,
in the chaotic madness
under blue skies
innocent people suffered
and died.
The world’s carnage
lies in the demon’s eye
lurking in the shadows
clothed in politics and lies,
warped religions
and twisted gods
is one coward’s fantasy
is one Osama Bin Laden.
The Hitler of
our day
has risen from
his grave,
his focus is not
only on the Jews
he wants to destroy
me and you.
Expelled from his homeland
the wicked demon lurked
until he found new life in
Sudan where he continued his work,
the sages of time
imposters all
could never tell
how many would fall.
Like a rabid dog with
his tail between his legs
Sudan kicked him out
as he wailed and begged,
Afghanistan actually took
him as a guest
and now the United States
has a price on his head.
The almighty Allah
closed his eyes
he turned his back as
people died,
the coldest truth is
at death’s door
religion isn’t intertwined
with war!!
The human race as extinct
as it might become
falls in the hands
of the mighty ones,
George W. Bush has
vowed to fight
as other countries
give support and unite.
The American flag
has stood its ground
it cannot be trampled
it can not be bound,
its fabric has seen
its share of wars
the red, white, and blue
will see one more.
Patriotic voyeurs from
around the world
will die to give freedom
to their little boys and girls,
by the hand of God, the
world will be spared
and victory will once
again, be declared.
I sit and wonder
as I often do
how come one person
guide so many fools,
to think Osama Bin Laden
is somebody’s son
how do you explain
that one?
The suicide bombers are
misguided souls
lost and lured to
death’s door,
they take with them a
piece of you and me
as we feel hatred
way down deep.
The terrorists have become
the devil’s hand
doing his work
as he has planned,
do you think that
when he runs and hides
does he ever wonder
“Did My Mother Cry?”
BC
AN EMPTY CHAIR
About flight 592 in Florida Everglades...
As human beings we
are driven towards success
we acquire money,
possessions and relationships,
everyone is really
the same
and when we lose someone
its really a shame.
The cost of a life
can never be measured
in either money or gold
it is extremely precious,
we take for granted
our every day lives
and we plan for tomorrow
until were surprised.
On May 11th there
came such a day
as 110 people stepped
on a plane,
Flight 592 took
to the air
and it took us by surprise…
completely unaware.
The open skies are
beautiful indeed
until it breathes fire
for all to see,
mankind strives
for success
sometimes we fail…
we’re only human…I guess.
I bow my head with
tear filled eyes
and I pray for all
the souls that died,
the wondrous Everglades
so majestic and clean
swallowed an airplane
in seconds…it seems.
All of us stood
silently dismayed,
“How could this happen?
Why today?”
As we pondered and
as we probed
the questions lingered
until it was solved.
While waiting in Atlanta
fear gripped our hearts
we stood in silence
as death cradled our thoughts,
our lives stopped and
will never be the same
we’ve lost our loved ones
on that fateful day.
Divers worked in
dangerous waters
desperately searching for
the planes voice and data recorder,
after it was recovered
the voices were heard
a fire broke out
and the plane burned.
No one was found
the plane disappeared
oxygen tanks were the
cause…I heard,
the faintest whisper
and a lonely cry
brushed past me
as I stood by.
The FAA made
their reports
and people and companies
will be dragged through courts,
pointing fingers won’t
bring them back
its an overwhelming responsibility
to stand up to the facts.
As time passes, we
try to forget
I have an empty
chair and a few regrets,
I have a hug and a
kiss waiting for me
one that never made
it, past Miami.
This Memorial was built
through volunteers
its all we have as
we visit year to year,
take a moment
look to the sky
and listen as gentle
whispers pass you by.
BC
FACES...
About Vietnam War
It was early January
and I was about to go on leave
when the orders came down
from the General to me,
take my men and move
them North
and capture a village
at any cost.
My instincts said
not to go
to take my men
and lay them low,
the sweat that lay
upon my brow
trickled blood as
I see it now.
I followed my orders
and off we went
we headed north
as we were sent,
my senses were peaked
as butterflies flew
in my stomach
which was nothing new.
I saw the village
where I stood
and stopped my men
and took a longer look,
their faces were young
and filled with fear
as I hid my terror
behind orders so clear.
Time stood still
in those woods
as anxiety filled me
where I stood,
I barked out orders
for all to hear
I tried to mask
my deepest fear.
I was about to go
on leave
but I knew some of
these faces would be haunting me,
I watched as their
eyes bore into my soul
they trusted me
with their lives to hold.
With fervor and passion
we took our steps
which led to a future
of daily unrest,
shots were fired
from my right
as bombs exploded
in the night.
I yelled and screamed
to my men
giving instructions to
try and help them,
I saw them scramble
without hearing a word
as the noise was deafening
as we lay in the dirt.
“I’m hit! I’m hit!”
I heard someone cry
as many men laid
down their lives,
I inched my way to the
front of my platoon
crawling over bodies
that died too soon.
Burning flesh
filled the air
as they burned their own
village without a care,
bloodshed overshadowed
any rational thought
as I fire bombed the
woods at any cost.
We fought for twelve
hours without a rest
I was proud of my platoon
as they gave their best,
the night grew silent
and I counted heads
and made a list
of all the dead.
I left my men
to go on leave
and just as I thought
that night still haunts me,
in the everyday world
I bring home my pay
and I see those
faces everyday.