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I have concluded that the U.N. can do a few things well.

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I've Done the Best I Can So You Can Do That Better

Beneath the tree
That falling leaves descended from,
I stand.
Thinking of the changes,
I have experienced being the man I am.

'She is now called 'Mama'!
Ma! Or Ms Mimmie'.
When she's with her children...
And grandchildren too!

And I look up above me to witness the branches.
The twigs!
And the wonder of the tree...
All of this ascends from!
'Matriarch she is! ', I think with no doubt.

And the birds, squirrels and all that come to visit,
Are always welcomed

And I wonder if anyone wonders...
'How can anyone disbelieve there is a God? '
How can this be done?
And by whom?
We all can't be vacant with a disconnected fate!
'Something' is planned by the doing in all of this!
'Something' is in control and knows everything that sits...
Within and 'out' of our midst.
'Something' about this most people miss.

'How can anyone disbelieve there is a God? '
And we are God's experiment!
And my 'sisters' were born to nourish the flourishment.
And I can see...
Looking at 'this' tree before me I inspect.
And 'It' observes...knowing!
Encouraging those after birth and going...
After growing up,
With a gentle toughness that is meant.
'I've done the best I can so you can do that better.'

Dedicated:
To my sister Andrea. Mim, Mimmie and MimmieD
'You have 'eight' grandchildren? EIGHT? How, Mimmie? '
Where was I when all of this happened?
And Tammy and Lisa? ? Naw. No way, yo?
You can 'not' be in your 'fffffffffffffaaug. Getting 'more'
mature. Geeeessshhh. HOW do you all get so much older
than me? Overnight it seems.
LOL

Love you,
Larry

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s o r r y that's the only I can say

Sorry if I giving you hardtime
Sorry if I disappoint you
Sorry for everything I did wrong
And sorry if I fall in love with you
That's the only I can say SORRY

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It Is In The Doing Of The Thing That The Blessing Comes

It is in the doing of the thing that the blessing comes
I am writing this now as if it were a gift
So much we do in life is like this
We can't and we can't
And we wait and we hesitate
And we are guilty and powerless
But once we have begun
And once we are moving in it
We flow through work as if it were
Own inner rhapsody.

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Now That I Know I Can

The sky is much too open and wide,
For me to prove to just you...
My ability to fly.
Or feel as I do unlimited,
With no thoughts to remain...
Focused in your sight.

I do not fly to entertain.
I fly to maintain a desire to do it.
Now that I know I can!
To soar even more,
As a choice I have made...
To break away from boundaries.

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The Convivial Book - Can The Koran From Eternity Be?

'Tis worth not a thought!
Can the Koran a creation, then, be?

Of that, I know nought!
Yet that the book of all books it must be,

I believe, as a Mussulman ought.
That from Eternity wine, though, must be,

I ever have thought;
That 'twas ordain'd, ere the Angels, to be,

As a truth may be taught.
Drinkers, however these matters may be,

Gaze on God's face, fearing nought.

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The Best I Can Do

I'll try to protect you
If I don't get too scared
I'll never neglect you
If my feelings are shared
I'll be right behind you
If you don't move too fast
And I'll try to remind you
That some things can last
I'll love you forever
Or at least many years
If you know I'll never
Take away all your fears
And I'll never roam
Not unless I have to
But I'll always come home
That's the best I can do
It's the best I can do

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I Have To Cross The Great Ocean

I have to cross the great ocean
with my little boat
which has thousand holes
please tell my friend
how to cross the great ocean

The waves of the ocean are too high
than that of height of mount Everest
thousand Tsunamis are yet to come
please tell my friend
how to cross the great ocean

The little boat gifted to me by my Lord
I do not find another boat
due to my carelessness there is thousand holes
no mechanics can repair it
but i have to cross the great ocean

please tell my friend
how to cross the great ocean

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There Are The Days That The Silence Need Not Hear Itself

There are days that the Silence need not hear itself-
It rests calmly where no one is
And waits wholly alone for nothing to disturb it-
It knows what it knows and it does not know anything
But it is calm as peace as rest after satisfying love-

It knows it need not hear itself
It knows it is not
Silence waits and calls
Listens and answers
Pretends to be
And pretends not to be-

What it is really can be heard only
By those who have at one time or another have known
The infinite intimations given by the musics of Sound

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If You Have Been Given The Opportunity

IF you have been given the opportunity,
To be invited to view a bigger picture of life...
That includes you,
But for some reason...
You are no longer tha main topic of it?
Grab a hold onto this opportunity.

You may discover a different world,
You had no idea existed.
And others like yourself,
Finding the useless need...
To adorn rose colored glasses.

Getting a much wider vision of life,
And how the experience of living it...
Can benefit with a more rewarding purpose,
That redefines your identity with clarity!
If...
You have been given that opportunity.

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Here have I learnt the little that I know

Here have I learnt the little that I know,
Here where in these untutored woodland ways
The primrose, all unconscious of our praise,
Dimpled the dainty coverlet of the snow,
March's first-born, and, still averse to go,
Though drowsy-lidded, dallies and delays
When, dawning through the bluebell's heavenly haze,
June into full mid-summer broadeneth slow.
Forgive me, friend, if these mean more to me,
Imbue my being with a deeper lore,
Come nearer to my heart, instruct me more
In what I am and what I fain would be,
Even than Sabine summit, Oscan shore,
Or Tiber curving tawnily to the sea.'

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We have to stop the war

The world is sore,
From having so many wars,
You can’t just stuff it in a drawer,
It is going to wash up on are shore,
And when it does it will be so hardcore,
You won’t be able to ignore, It anymore,
It’s like were looking for,
An open door,
That we will have to prepare for,
Once more,
It will hurt like a cold sore,
I can’t take it any more,
What is the answer to this war?
Is it lying on the ocean floor?
We need a man who can make a plan that even a monkey can understand,
Hopefully this plan will come soon because if it doesn’t there will be consequences

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Silence- That Is All You Can Offer

Silence- that is all you can offer
When asked why you did it to me!
A chance to save face I, to thee, proffer:
To accept and right your wrongs- your duty!

How do you live with what you have done! ?
Lie have you without thought of repercussion
Yet you still believe that you've already won-
To the contrary, you offer no discussion!

Explication of deceit only breeds more of the same;
Once started, the only choice is the acceptance of defeat!
Your's is but a very dangerous game,
One may only lose when coupled with deceit!

Turn about is fair play, I shall have mine one day-
Only what is to become of you- for you to say!

Maurice Harris,22 June 2008

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I Have Given That Some Consideration

Am I trying to win friends?
And influence people?

That depends on the day of the week.
My attitude and mood.
Patience.
And if I am willing to sit through,
Conversations with those whose minds...
Are stuck in times that have long gone.

But,
I have given that some consideration...
Whenever my medication,
Has been filled from a new prescription.
And I can afford to carry extra dosages with me,
Quickly to calm me down.
When I sense a clown is around...
Seeking to be humorous.
And I am not feeling jovial.

And...
If I happen to be traveling through,
A neighborhood that has been totally renovated.
That's the key.
I need to be exposed to a freshness.
And scenes not 'yet' littered with garbage.

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The Language That The Poor Wants To Speak

do you speak good English?
do you take pride in it and then use it to impress others
and swindle them
into a belief that they are inferior?

they have feelings too
of humiliation
which even in such a sad state
wish that their humiliation
speak good English still

they always think that English will give them
a good job
a better standing in the society
a flare of fashionable tongue

you make them cry
but still they want to speak that cry in English too

foolish!

but can you blame them?
you who hold that power and might
you who have taken all what they once had
and made them
worse within
themselves

despite which,
they still want to be like you
to speak like you
a god

how sad!


you have never known the language of love
the grammar of generosity
the syntax of sympathy
that language that good English
sometimes has forgotten
to utter

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You Can Not Have It Both Ways

You can not have it both ways.
You can not market decadence.
And then preach about its ill affects.
Especially when you have enjoyed it the best!

You can not sit in judgement to condemn.
When every rule and law that is made...
You are the first to be found breaking them!

You can not profess what should be right for others...
When you do what you please,
Wherever you wish to express your druthers.

And you are certainly no example,
To a way of life you defend.
When standards you believe should be followed...
You can not uphold yourself.
If you begged, steal or borrowed.
Without becoming offensive about your whims.

And deceit and stealing...
Are not unfamiliar to you!
In fact...
Did you not teach how,
To succeed using that?
Aren't you the one to climb to heights...
By keeping others back?

Would you like to redo,
Your own tainted tracks?

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The Least You Can Do

I was lying awake last night, waiting for your call
But if the rumours are true, that wont bother you at all
Im trying hard to understand
What it takes to be your man
Now I dont have to wonder anymore
Least you can do is say youre sorry
Least you can do is give me back my heart
Just give me back my heart
Seems living in hope was wrong those years I was away
Thinking your letters, I never received, had gone astray
You said youd always be there for me
Like a fool I thought youd be
Now I dont know what I was thinking at all
But the least you can do is say youre sorry girl
Least you can do is give me back my heart
I wont come around no more
You wont find me standing outside your door
Least you can do is tell me why, tell me why
The least you can do is say youre sorry girl
Least you can do is give me back my heart
I wont come around no more
You wont find me standing outside your door
But the least you can do is tell me why
I wont be your fool anymore
Theres no need to be cruel anymore no, no
Least you can do is say youre sorry girl
The least you can do is give me back my heart .just give me back my heart

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You Feel That The World Is Against You

You feel that the World is against you and nothing for you is going right
And you struggle just for to make ends meet and life is a hard uphill fight
But than you there are far worse off people though you do not see things that way
In Rwanda a Country in Africa teenagers to support their families work today.

Their parents by war taken from them and the eldest members of the family
Must work for to support their younger siblings they only know of poverty
In our society you may seem a poor man but poverty one can compare
And in the eyes of a Rwandan you would be a multi billionaire.

On five hundred dollars a week take home pay you support your two young children and your wife
As well as buy food, pay bills and the mortgage you do know about the hard life
In this Land they call you a battler you struggle just for to get by
Though the millions of battlers of Rwanda would say that the good life you enjoy.

You feel the whole World is against you a poor fellow on a poor street
But your fridge of food never empty and you and your family
have plenty to eat
And the hungry poor of Rwanda with you only would disagree
They would see you as a wealthy person for they know of extreme poverty

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Our stars have trodden all the milk paths

our stars have trodden all the milk paths
spilled like dust for the souls to split
heaven and earth and the hell in stones cast
learn every single pebble in its aftermaths
murmuring through the galaxy that fails
at first whispers stricken by the lip crack - its holes
breathing stardust sucked in the mouth - its halls
mastering the silence and all its ways

still there we stood
still there we could
talk to the trees and survive uncut
by the grass swords wet with a dropp of dew
shivering an early blood
in a nightly touch handful of the blue

they rained they crashed they touched the soil
chained in the castles talking through the walls
settled in our bodies spirit sealed forgiven
the first day of silence the first evil word
just begging for some more time to be given
a silent prayer heavenward heard
to hold a star in the first of its falls

now we wait and wait and weigh the day
when the sky parchment silently unrolls
to gather above all the silent cries
to gather the dust and its silent calls

so that we can
that we can again
talk to the trees and still be uncut
by the grass swords wet in a dropp of dew
shivering an early blood
in a nightly touch handful of the blue

©Miroslava Odalovic

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Not Even the Obvious Shelters Can Protect Those Afraid

It is not easy,
Being the one deceived.
Or having that done,
By more than one.
But once that is known...
The flight from it,
Can bring one a happiness.
When it is realized,
How many have accepted it.
Without comprehending...
The participants and the depth of it!

It is not easy,
Discovering the truth.
When so many deny that it exists.
Afterall...
Aren't beliefs based on non-fiction?
How can so many,
Live addicted to fiction?
But it has been done!
And to awaken from delusions,
Can stun anyone!

And this stunning when it comes...
Many will attempt to shun!
However...
This is 'reality'.
There regardless...
Who decides from it to run!

And those who were taunted,
By those who flaunted lives of lies...
Are not the ones trying to disguise,
The gloom that appears in their eyes!
A consciousness that has arrived,
Is there openly to see.
And not stunted behind masquerades...
By those in fear,
Seeking somewhere to hide!
Or somewhere to cloak,
Unspoken feelings felt inside.

These are the days,
Bare neccesities are craved.
And yet egos in self praise...
Are the ones finding the most discomfort.

But truth never hides,
Or provides charades!
Not even the obvious shelters,
Can protect those afraid!

'This is the dawning of the Age of Reality.
The Age of Re-al-ity.
Ree-al-ity!
Harmony and understanding...
And so forth and so on it goes!
And where it stops?
Nobody knows! '

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The Stones that the Builder Refused

Mother Africa lost her children to the sea
Scattered abroad and sold into slavery
Bound, shackled, and twice chained
Sins of the father has surely remained
Loving families we left behind
Betrayed and Sold by our own kind
These things sometimes makes me upset
Those things I can never ever forget

Like cattle lead to the slaughter
On auction blocks sold as barter
Hated, mistreated, and despised
Made lame, crippled, and then criticized
Battered and bruised dogs set upon
Skin baked in the sun for we are Teflon
In the fields we chanted a psalm
Now we’re told to go back where you came from

Nowhere to go for we no longer belong
Through captivity we’ve remain ever strong
We make you dance and now you want to be us too
You cannot be me nor I could ever be you
High on the hill you roast the sow
We’ve made you rich by the sweat of our brow
Good enough to die for you as martyrs
Yet not good enough to marry your daughters

It is here I was born
You still look at me with a scorn
Like I have stolen all your corn
From my back my clothing’s torn
Hands tired and limbs worn
I am the tree grown from an acorn

You cannot conquer me
I am one with the almighty
Take it all in and make sure it is well digested
You’ve claimed all that I have manifested
In us you have long divested
In us you are not interested

Shiftless and lazy we’ve been accused
On stage by us you’ve been amused
Your entire history you’ve been confused
For far too long we’ve been abused
Never more shall we be used
We are the stones that the builder refused


(August 6,2011)

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