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Dad gave us pliers and their holsters --
Said, "Wear them when you come outside."

At nine and ten, we carried them,
Entering the world of working men.

I wore out pliers and holsters,
Bought new ones and wore out them.

Now several sets reside in treasured spaces,
In boxes and vehicles and other places.

These days seldom used, my pliers remind me
Of my growing up, of everything behind me.
Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.

Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.

Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.

The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,  
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.

Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.
Another oldie
The Storm Or The Roses Thorns

       Here we go again, you know I can
See the storm brewing in your eyes
I’ve always been faithful and honest
You swear I cheat and my words are lies

I can never seem to stay within the
Boundaries and stay in compliance
And I will never be able defend myself
To closed doors and your scripted silence

You never forget the past when arguing
Is our form of communication
And you use my past mistakes as your
Endless form of ammunition

You manipulate everything and avoid
The topic of discussion
And I always face the consequences
Of the repercussions

It’s always a typical No win situation
Like I’ve always got a Bull by the horns
I’m between a rock and a hard place
Facing The Storm Or The Roses Thorns

Written By:Charles Kean
10/21/2023
I have always believed in the suggestion
and sound advice of "Carpe diem" (to seize
the day).

However now I am more inclined to sneak
carefully up behind it and gently pick its pocket.
My seizing days are pretty much over.
To quote the late Mister Buffett,
"Changes in latitudes and changes
in attitudes" Going with the flow
of necessity. To quote my grandfather
"The old grey mare ain't what she used
to be." Or stallion either.
poem
lyrics
or just a screed

we rant
we rave
we rage against the machine

dandelions
daffodils
pear blossoms

and they say
to get gray
you must facilitate

the mostly holy
union
of bull and cow
An abstract word painting.
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