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There is nothing wrong with the name White Settlement, and the majority here is proud of the name.

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There Is Nothing Wrong With Power

'Tis sad to think that many with power abuse it those with power who abuse it weak not strong
There is nothing wrong with having power in the first place it is the abuse of it that is all wrong
For the abuse of power leads to serious crimes against the powerless though power in good hands it is quite okay
And good people with power never do abuse it they use it in the most constructive way
Some people with power are quite benign people and philanthropic one of them can say
But those who abuse their power to the law may never answer though to karma there's a price they have to pay
The abuse of power leads to dictatorial regimes that leads to serious crimes against humanity
In the despicable crimes against women and children the wrongs of power gone wrong for all to see
The people who abuse their power should never have it though to their power they desperately do cling
Power in the right hands an adavantage to others and power in the wrong hands is a dangerous thing
There is nothing wrong with power from once 'tis used well but some with power they do abuse their rule
And some with power they can become quite nasty and derive pleasure out of being cruel
But power in the right hands can be a blessing and kind people with power their praise we ought sing
Since they have the gift of empathy within them and happiness to others they do bring.

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There Is Nothing Wrong In Wanting

It is easy to pick up and leave,
For...
Those places envisioned in one's mind,
That are traveled and far away.
So they will have a space to go...
To wallow there,
In the comfort of their sorrows.

It is easy to pick up and leave,
For...
A tomorrow out of reach.
To perceive a destiny is to chase rainbows.
Carrying with them an emptiness,
That always seem to follow!

There is nothing wrong,
In wishing for the consistency of Sunshine.
There is nothing wrong in wanting,
To be showered with gold dust all the time.
There is nothing wrong,
In avoiding clouds with hopes none will come.
There is nothing wrong in wanting a life,
With a humming forever done!

There is nothing wrong to live those dreams,
In a wishful thinking of them to be...
Continually received.

It is easy to pick up and leave,
For...
Those places envisioned in one's mind,
That are traveled and far away.
There is nothing wrong in wanting a life,
With a humming forever done!
There is nothing wrong,
In avoiding clouds with hopes none will ever come.

And yet they do.
And many refuse...
To stop and accept what is done.
Preferring they do instead for them,
Is a life that is on the run.

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When You Insist That There Is Nothing Wrong With Me

i wriggled and tried to loosen what grips my neck
your hands are too strong for love
and i get choked at times wanting to breathe
the fresh air outside
but you assure me this is how to love
and your manner of loving
terms of endearment you say
deep from the heart of you

i asked some questions to the stones
and i must be so foolish waiting for the answers
i tried the power of the birds
and i got some answers slowly from their wings

flights are good schemes
one gets to meet the clouds and they tell you what drifting does
what changing shapes are all about
what freedom is there with the winds that come and go
painlessly from west to east to north to south
and sometimes not coming back anymore
from where you once came

i like wings and i do not want any stopovers since then
i like their stories and i am listening still

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Somethins Wrong With The Beaver

(kinky friedman & panama red)
She climbed the stairs that mornin
Found him rather pale
His eyes they were the color
Of half-drunk ginger ale.
Faithful as a magnavox
Hung-up on a song
She cried down to the breakfast nook,
ward, theres something wrong.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
The beaver I believe-uh is gone.
Beaver was a dreamer,
Never got it right.
Died in livin color,
Lived in black an white.
Faithful as a magnavox
Hung-up on a song
She cries down to the breakfast nook,
ward, theres something wrong.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ward!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
The beaver I believe-uh is gone.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ward!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Lord!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ooh!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ha!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Beaver, huh!
Somethins wrong with the beaver.

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Something Is Wrong With The Poor Too

something is wrong with the poor too
snobbing the rich like they are like them.

too sensitive, they shy away when touched
by our attempts to characterize charity,

too sentimental they cry at the slightest
remark of hunger and thirst and they seem

hate water and food that we keep inside our
cabinets and glasses, we stoop a little to

accommodate their way of seeing things.
we look for cracks, we let in light too faint

too small for that camel to fit, too flimsy
an excuse, we relate, we cannot be one

like them, oh, arrogance, oh selfishness
oh pretensions, oh that usual blame, shit.

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Whats Wrong With The Way I Live

(clarke / hicks / nash)
Whats wrong with the way I live
The way I use my time
People should live their lives
Leaving me to mine, leaving me to mine
Im a man who is defending
All his rights to live in peace
And my job is never ending for me
Ever since I was a young man
People tried to get at me
Tried to bring me down and hurt me
And Im losing, losing
Whats wrong with the way I live
The way I use my time
People should live their lives
Leaving me to mine, leaving me to mine
Break
They persist in rearranging
All my days to suit them best
But the future will be changing for me
Im a man who is defending
All his rights to live in peace
And my job is never ending
But theyre losing, losing
Whats wrong with the way I live
The way I use my time
People should live their lives
Leaving me to mine, leaving me to mine
And theyre losing

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Motherhood, 1951

Dear Saint Patrick, this is Peggy,
Or maybe it's Pegeen to you,
Well, I'm really Stella Mae.
Peggy's my nickname,
But anyway, will you please tell me
What to do about the rattlesnake
That's in my room?
I know it's there,
But I can't find it anywhere I search.
I've ransacked the closet more than once,
Because that's where we found the skin it shed.
I even put the cat in there and shut the door,
But he only went to sleep on my new dress
Which he had clawed from a hanger.
My grandma, Maggie, says you drove the snakes from Ireland
And they came here to Arizona.
She's right, you know
For didn't a rattler kill our cat, Blackie?
There he was beside the porch, stiff as a board
And baby Florence saw it.
She's only three and doesn't need to see death like that, not yet.
If you can, let her believe for now
That we will live forever.
Anyhow, I'm pregnant again.
I know I've sinned
But I am paying for it.
Don't make my girl suffer
Because her mother used poor judgment
And got herself in trouble out of wedlock.
My mother's disappointed in me.
My father doesn't care
And says I don't have to marry
Just to have a name for this one in the oven.
Father says there's nothing wrong with our name
And will serve the babe as well as any other,
But mother is determined to give this one a legal father
Like Baby Florence has, but only on paper.
She doesn't have a father either,
But she's got her granddad, he says
And goes to work. He is a barber.
Mother is a cook and she works longer hours,
So I'm here with Baby Florence
And that infernal snake all day.
Outside, the new cat, dogs, chickens and hogs
Roam about the yard,
But they can't help me, can they?
I keep praying, but you don't answer.
I guess you've got no time for me,
So armed with a shovel,
I go in the closet once again
And succeed in smashing a wall.
Bits of plaster fall on my head,
But I don't mind.
I'd rather be dead than never find the thing
That crawls about the room
Without fear of discovery.
This morning, I woke up to find a coiled imprint
At the foot of my bed.
They say I am protected from harm
Because the Virgin Mary put her heel
Upon a snake's head and crushed it
For the sake of all pregnant women.
I am safe, I say to myself and pray for mercy
And recall the dead baby diamondback we found last fall.
It glittered like a tiny jeweled bracelet
And I almost picked it up,
Before I remembered my own warning to my daughter
To never, ever pick up anything suspicious.
I wish I'd done that with the man partly responsible
For the mess I've made.
The diamondback was like the lust I felt for him.
It glittered so beautifully
I had to pick it up and wear it for awhile,
Then like some Lazarus, it came to life,
By striking me with its poisonous fangs,
Leaving me to pay for my crime
Once by lying to myself
And twice for good measure.
Now I must suffer for my pleasure.
I curse, slam the wall again
And feel pain radiating from my navel
Down through my bowels
And am not able to get to the telephone
To call my mother.
I hear a splash and all of a sudden,
The snake darts from the hole I made in the wall
And crawls forward to slake its thirst.
I grit my teeth, but stand stock still
As the pain gnaws at my vitals.
I try to show no fear
As the snake takes a long drink of my water
Then slithers away,
But not fast enough to escape,
As screaming with pain and rage
with all the mother instinct I can muster,
and in the Virgin Mary's name,
I raise the shovel and smash the snake,
Crushing its head,
As I double over and fall beside it
On the red, concrete floor.
For awhile, a ripple runs through its body,
Then it is still.
When my pain subsides, I fall asleep
And dream I'm dead
And hundreds of baby snakes are gathered at my wake.
They crawl all over my body
And I try to shake them off,
Until I realize they're part of me.

At Saint Mary's Hospital, the nurses and my doctor
Tell me how courageous I am
And the nuns even come to visit me.
They claim I have performed a miracle
And should be canonized.
Saint Peggy. 'How does that sound?'
I ask Saint Patrick aloud
When left alone to hold my child.
I smile at her and tell her she is blessed.
The nuns have gone off to light some candles
And in the chapel.
They say they're praying for special dispensation
But I don't need that and neither does my girl.

Back home, after a few days, I realize

That I made a mistake in thinking I could take away my sins
When Mother tells me my new daughter is cursed
Because I killed a snake the day she was born.
'What a cruel mother you are,' I tell her
And she says, 'Yes, I'm just like all the others.
I should have smothered you when you were born.
I was so torn up inside, I nearly died for you
And you repay me with not one bastard, but two.
I never thought I'd call a whore my daughter.'
When I protest, she says, 'There's the door.'
After that, I decide to ignore her
And in a state between agitation and rest,
I remember something I had forgotten.
As I lay beside the snake.
I saw a tiny bunch of eggs spill out of her
And realized she was an expectant mother too
And simply wanted a drink to soothe herself
One desert afternoon
When mothers must decide to save
Or execute their children.

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There's nothing wrong with the car except that it's on fire.

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There's nothing wrong with the free-enterprise system. But it has to have some compassion.

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When a business group tells us there is nothing wrong with the environment, naturally they may have good arguments, but we are also sceptical, because we know that they have an interest in these things.

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Cmon Everybody

(words & music by byers)
Come on everybody and snap your fingers now
Come on everybody clap your hands real loud
Come on everybody take a real deep breath
And repeat after me
I love my baby
I love my baby
Hey, hey, hey and my baby loves me
Come on everybody and whistle this tune right now
Come on everybody and stomp your feet real loud
Come on everybody take a real deep breath
And repeat after me
I love my baby
I love my baby
Hey, hey, hey and my baby loves me
Well there aint nothing wrong with the long-haired music
Like brahms, beethoven and bach
Well I was raised with a guitar in my hand
And I was born to rock
Well, come on everybody and turn your head to the left
Come on everybody and turn your head to the right
Come on everybody take a real deep breath
And repeat after me
I love my baby
I love my baby
Hey, hey, hey and my baby loves me

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Sunday 4: 44 A.m.

the church bell sounds.
you wake up.
you wash your face.
comb your hair and
wear the best dress
on sunday.
you look again
in the mirror to check
if all about you is well
and presentable.
you take the rosary
and the prayer book.
you read the gospel.
you mumble your prayers,
you thank your husband.
you take the puppy.
you smile again in the
mirror. you thank God.
now you open the gate
and head for the nearby
church and hear mass
and the usual sermon
of the parish priest.

90% of your life
is devoted to religion.
10% is devoted
to anything else.
you have aged.
you still mumble.

i still wonder whether
it is you who misunderstands me
or i misunderstanding you.
everything seems to be
mangled and mingled.
when you come back
breakfast is ready and
everyone in the house
pretends that there is nothing
wrong with the table, or the
cover, or the broken pieces
of the glass.The maid is
quick in sweeping them
away from the door into
that thick grass beside
the window of this house.

sunday morning is still
our morning. A nice one.
the sun has come and
we are planning for another
picnic in the nearby beach.
there will be no questions.

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Elegance

The cheetah checked the path ahead
For prey and foe alike...
Yet all was calm, no need to dread,
No need to flee or strike...
No conflicts loomed, no burdens sensed,
No sudden terrors here...
At last his soul felt recompensed
For times he shook with fear.
On making sure that all took place
Without the need for fights,
He simply walked, with gentle grace,
Just taking in the sights.
This therefore meant the time was his,
To do with as he pleased.
Serenity transformed to bliss...
His muscle tension eased.

In moments, he was confident...
As if his heart felt blessed.
As if this day would be well spent...
Because it felt his best.
Taking in the sweet air's fragrance,
Its innocence felt good...
And he exuded elegance,
As if he'd understood...
That life is precious, so sublime...
Enjoy it when you can.
One third asleep, the rest gives time
To think ahead and plan...
And so he walked, to think of schemes,
To make his life worthwhile.
There's nothing wrong with dreaming dreams...
Of elegance and style...


The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Elegance'.

More Stephen Gayford poems here:
denis-martindale-dot-blogspot-dot-com

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Scarlet Begonias

As I was walkin round grosvenor square
Not a chill to the winter but a nip to the air,
From the other direction, she was calling my eye,
It could be an illusion, but I might as well try, might as well try.
She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes.
And I knew without askin she was into the blues.
She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls,
I knew right away she was not like other girls, other girls.
In the thick of the evening when the dealing got rough,
She was too pat to open and too cool to bluff.
As I picked up my matches and was closing the door,
I had one of those flashes Id been there before, been there before.
Well, I aint always right but Ive never been wrong.
Seldom turns out the way it does in a song.
Once in a while you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right.
Well there aint nothing wrong with the way she moves,
Scarlet begonias or a touch of the blues.
And theres nothing wrong with the look thats in her eyes,
Wind in the willows playin tea for two;
The sky was yellow and the sun was blue,
Strangers stoppin strangers just to shake their hand,
Everybodys playing in the heart of gold band, heart of gold band.

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Scarlet Begonias

As I was walkin round grosvenor square
Not a chill to the winter but a nip to the air,
From the other direction, she was calling my eye,
It could be an illusion, but I might as well try, might as well try.
She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes.
And I knew without askin she was into the blues.
She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls,
I knew right away she was not like other girls, other girls.
In the thick of the evening when the dealing got rough,
She was too pat to open and too cool to bluff.
As I picked up my matches and was closing the door,
I had one of those flashes Id been there before, been there before.
Well, I aint always right but Ive never been wrong.
Seldom turns out the way it does in a song.
Once in a while you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right.
Well there aint nothing wrong with the way she moves,
Scarlet begonias or a touch of the blues.
And theres nothing wrong with the look thats in her eyes,
Wind in the willows playin tea for two;
The sky was yellow and the sun was blue,
Strangers stoppin strangers just to shake their hand,
Everybodys playing in the heart of gold band, heart of gold band.

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Scarlet Begonia

As I was walkin' 'round Grosvenor Square
Not a chill to the winter but a nip to the air,
From the other direction, she was calling my eye,
It could be an illusion, but I might as well try, might as well try.
She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes.
And I knew without askin' she was into the blues.
She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls,
I knew right away she was not like other girls, other girls.
In the thick of the evening when the dealing got rough,
She was too pat to open and too cool to bluff.
As I picked up my matches and was closing the door,
I had one of those flashes I'd been there before, been there before.
Well, I ain't always right but I've never been wrong.
Seldom turns out the way it does in a song.
Once in a while you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right.
Well there ain't nothing wrong with the way she moves,
Scarlet begonias or a touch of the blues.
And there's nothing wrong with the look that's in her eyes,
Wind in the willow's playin' "Tea for Two";
The sky was yellow and the sun was blue,
Strangers stoppin' strangers just to shake their hand,
Everybody's playing in the heart of gold band, heart of gold band

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Scarlet Begonias

As I was walkin' round grosvenor square
Not a chill to the winter but a nip to the air
From the other direction, she was calling my eye
It could be an illusion, but I might as well try, might as well try
She had rings on her fingers and bells on her shoes
And I knew without askin' she was into the blues
She wore scarlet begonias tucked into her curls
I knew right away she was not like other girls, other girls
In the thick of the evening when the dealing got rough
She was too pat to open and too cool to bluff
As I picked up my matches and was closing the door
I had one of those flashes I'd been there before, been there before
Well, I ain't always right but I've never been wrong
Seldom turns out the way it does in a song
Once in a while you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right
Well there ain't nothing wrong with the way she moves
Scarlet begonias or a touch of the blues
And there's nothing wrong with the look that's in her eyes
I had to learn the hard way to let her pass by, let her pass by
Wind in the willow's playin' "Tea for Two"
The sky was yellow and the sun was blue
Strangers stoppin' strangers just to shake their hand
Everybody's playing in the heart of gold band, heart of gold band

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Ooh Aah

Hey baby.I know you want me.
Whether it's wrong or right.
I wanna be with you tonight.
So get your things and let's go.
Let's get outta here.

How you doing baby?
You looking good.
And if you could stay with me.
Oh girl.I know you would.Yeah.
I haven't seen you.
In a long time.
But the love you gave to me.
Is constantly on my mind.

Ooh Aah Oh Oh
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
Ooh Aah Oh Oh

There's nothing wrong.
With the way I feel.
Because your loving.
Oh girl.It gives me chills.Mmm Hmm.
You wouldn't be smiling.
If I was wrong.
So bring your loving.
To me all night long.

I like it when you moan
You say....

Ooh Aah Oh Oh
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
Ooh Aah Oh Oh

Wanna love it.
Wanna touch it.
Let me lay your body down.
Wanna feel it.
Wanna taste it.
Let me hear you make a sound.
Wanna love it.
Wanna touch it.
Let me lay your body down.
Wanna feel it.
Wanna taste it.
Let me here you make a sound.
(You know I want it)

Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)

Wanna love it.
Wanna touch it.
Let me lay your body down.
Wanna feel it.
Wanna taste it.
Let me hear you make a sound.
Wanna love it.
Wanna touch it.
Let me lay your body down.
Wanna feel it.
Wanna taste it.
Let me here you make a sound.
(You know I want it)

Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)
Ooh Aah Oh Oh
(You know I want it)

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Yo Trippin

Written by anastacia newkirk - travon potts
Whoa
Heya
All this time this life
Is a rhythm without a rhyme
cause it makes me feel, uh
Im like a train without a wheel, whoa
You got me down, so low
I gotta be tough, wont touch the ground, ah
But - Im alright
I wont give up without a fight
If you dont want to realize
That I would never compromise my
Integrity or my right to be free
Theres nothing left for me to say
cause
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Yo trippin
Fire make me feel
Like my feelings stay so real
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Hey, whoa
Yo trippin
Why you feel (why you feel, why you feel)
That to be cruel
Is to be real, yeah
Honesty (honesty, yeah, honesty)
Is how I live
But you refuse to see that
Youll never wind the game of life
Ask why
You live in scene
From tellin all those lies
Cant live in peace
Your hart wont let me free
Theres nothing left for me to say, yeah
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Yo trippin
Fire make me feel
Like my feelings stay so real
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Whoa
Yo trippin
Yeha
Why you always trinppin on me
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Yo trippin
Fire make me feel
Like my feelings stay so real
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Baby why you always
Trippin baby
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Yo trippin
Fire make me feel
Like my feelings stay so real
Yo trippin
There aint nothing wrong
With the way I sing my song
Whoa
Yo trippin

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As I said there is nothing wrong with failing. Pick yourself up and try it again. You never are going to know how good you really are until you go out and face failure.

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