My angular and wandering travels....

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Duncanville, TX, United States
I'm an international person, having spent 6+years of my youth in various Central and South American countries. Within my occupation as a television engineer, I've since traveled back to Mexico several times to film various religious sites, to Ireland to film a video documentary on the life of St. Patrick, to Portugal and England. Each time I took hundreds of pictures, wrote songs and poems about the things I saw and heard and felt go on around me, and tried to absorb a sense for what people in each locale thought. How they love, how they see, how they think.... My other sites: www.myspace.com/mothtoacandle http://community.webshots.com/user/waynocook www.soundclick.com/eddieaustin
Showing posts with label good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Workin' Hands

©2007
Wayne Cook

Down in Mississippi back in 1962
They was pullin’ corn and filling trucks and listenin’ to the blues
It was hard work and hard money and Klansmen in the streets
You could hear the rumble of the people’s restless feet

Life was hard but life was good, and a story to be told
I liked what I felt and I liked just feelin’ bold
Courage was a word that we never thought about
We just did what we did and ignored the rolling clouds

There was thunder, there was noise, there were battle lines drawn
There was activists who were throwing the gauntlet down
All we wanted was a little work, a little fun and Saturday in the park
All I wanted was a good woman to hold with a lovin’ heart

Working long, workin’ hard, workin’ hands don’t often kill
You gotta serve somebody and we-all be servin’ still
So I work for my 5 dollars and a bit o’ supper going home
You take all your money and bank it in that brick house downtown

Monday, September 3, 2007

The Lion's Heart

Wayne Cook
©2007

You majesty, she said with hands in worship's respect,
I would my people and my honor protect,
Grant me this day one magnificent wish,
Send me out tonight with a Lion's heart my gift.

The king was struck with the young girl's plea,
No one else had petitioned him for such strange leave,
People had begged for favors, for pardon, for gold,
They had bartered and traded and left him cold.

Her eyes were as soft as they were direct,
His royal heart warmed; he could feel no threat,
He wondered and pondered this strange request,
And still his eye would yield to grant her quest.

He cleared his throat, like kings are wont,
Already he'd decided he would not this damsel taunt,
My young one, he said, as he stood to his feet,
My young one, what is the quest you seek?

She answered with a riddle, and true it rang,
The hall echoed with it's portent, implication, and tang
Sharp the word, sharp the intent, sharp now the eyes,
Sharp the finger that accused the evil stye.

He who keeps the entrance of lust and deceit,
He who winds the heart with vines of defeat,
He who wounds the man with soul in the dust,
He who speaks lies with honey, and breaks the trust.

Strong is the woman who evil loathes,
Strong is the cord that binds her to oath,
Strong is the soul that pursues the quest,
Strong is the Lion's Heart she grasps to her breast