Sense
by Ted L Glines

Common sense - we  all look for
scanning the world of love and war
but look around and you'll deplore
the lack of common sense.

We've got churches spoutin love
praisin Goodness from above
while wagin war - push and shove,
it makes no common sense.

This county of mine is surely dry
no beer or wine for me to buy
but "private" bars abound - oh my,
does that make common sense?

Wall Street pushes price inflation
offshored jobs - no job creation
we leap to blame the United Nations
in the name of common sense.

I need a place so far away
where people do what people say
and logic matches rules of play,
a place with common sense.

I'll find it maybe by-n-by
when I'm through gripin and finally die
and go to that good place in the sky,
with the grace of common sense.

Author's Notes: So, after all these years of chaos  and nonsense, you finally die. Your heart stops.  Everything goes black ... and  it kinda reminds me of the joke where the parachute guy jumps outta the plane  and discovers that  they forgot to pack his 'chute and, as he's falling at a  zillion  miles per hour straight at the ground, he's thinking, "I'll bet  they  lied about the truck waiting down there, too." If you can  connect those dots,  you're as crazy as me.

Sensitive
by Ted L Glines

Born to feel
inequities of life
love unrequited lost
tempest tossed

born to cry
when hugged or loved
or even appreciated
but love is depreciated
in emptiness
we never learn
to cry less

born to touch
that which
must not be touched
fingers burned
touch is spurned

born to love
unendingly
unbendingly
that which
cannot be loved
at all

born to write
feelings strong and light
soul is flightier
the pen is mightier
than the poet
don't we know it

and our screams
if they were swords
would kill nations

Author's Notes: Down through  recorded  history, it has always been the poet or the bard whose sensitivity  and  pain heralded pushes for reformation. This poem is in tribute  to all those poets  who dare to be heard. Long live the bard!

Schneekugel
by Ted L Glines

When the hand of God
shakes my little world
snow swirls in glad abandon
dancing through black forest trees
some settling on the roof
of a witch's cottage
from Grimm's Fairy Tales
snow kissing candled windows
where Hansel and Gretel
bake savory cookies
warm by the hearth inside
while snow hushes through the trees
sighing across clearings
brushing along adventure trails
somewhere out there
is an ancient bridge
and under the bridge
a tired old troll
looks up and brushes
snow flakes from his dried out lips
and I long to go
to see the troll
maybe to tell him jokes
make him laugh
in the swirling snow
once more