Ummm.........

Whenever I write something I usually know exactly what I want the title to be.
For some reason I really struggled on what to title this poem.
Everything I thought of just didn't seem to fit or it sounded corny.
After 2 weeks of drawing a blank...I think I finally got it. Well...
maybe not. For now the title shall remain nameless. Maybe in another
2 weeks I'll think of something better...


The subtleties of your logic pull me in like gravity
The center of the universe is not your depravity
There is one true source that pulls with sincerity
All answer to its motion all are drawn by its parity

Everything revolves around its true form
None can ignore such a peaceful storm
Some will try to resist and not conform
Others will give in to fate and truly reform

All was created with this in mind
That in all things first this you will find
If you see anything without this you are blind
For this was how everything was aligned

The sun will shine and reveal its power
The moon will glow in the midnight hour
The grass will glisten after a shower
The intricacies are evident in the flower

Nothing can wash it away
It’s not short-lived it doesn’t sway
It doesn’t wilt It doesn’t decay
It’s even stronger when everything’s grey

Why then do we search beyond
Envisioning something we think we are fond
My friend we have been conned
It’s in front of us in our own pond

1/3/09
Copyright © 2009 Brian Jackson All rights reserved

In God We Trust

America the beautiful
Sublime but pitiful
Run by paper
Print more is our caper
It’s soul is green
Evidence all over the scene
Sacrifices of blood
Drug through the mud
For freedom they say
Inside lust for more play
We must be at ease
Our flesh we must please
We want more Uncle Sam
We follow like a lamb
Don’t let us have pain
Or we voted in vain
You say one billion…
Or even a trillion.
No matter the costs
It’s only our children’s loss
You must console
Take another poll
Do what it will take
For your own sake

We must remain the Superpower
Ah America, but it is your last hour
Your god you have trusted
Your pleasure have you lusted
Now it may be too late
Your worth has little weight
Based on nothing but words
To gold flock the herds
It was what we trusted
It was what we lusted
Now it’s time to pay
No more we can say
What is this god we trust?
It’s printed on the paper we lust

1/12/09
Copyright © 2009 Brian Jackson All rights reserved

Stained Glass

Up close can’t see clearly
Some glance cavalierly
But from a distance it’s beautiful.
Live inside can’t see outside
Outside can’t see in
From a distance it’s beautiful
Ah the intricate detail
Every piece unique travail
Oh but how beautiful
The attention to painstaking construction
The materials used from destruction
And yet how beautiful
For such some have poured their souls
And yes some have paid their tolls
Even so how beautiful
When it finally shatters from variable matters
Or pressure stresses it to break
Will it still be beautiful?

1/1/09
Copyright © 2009 Brian Jackson All rights reserved