
Reflections of a Scribbler
Poetry by Joel Kindrick
Music by John Michael Roch
1. Random Beauty of Life
Chances are the random beauty of life
With the ups and the downs and the run arounds
Better get ahead so you don’t get down.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
There is the road ahead.
Forks in the road.
Go west young man.
Follow the yellow brick road.
Can’t stop now it’s full speed ahead.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Forgettin’ the past means problems for the future.
Let the problems be new.
Learn from the past.
Look back. Look back,
But don’t go back.
Chances are the random beauty of life.
With the ups and the downs and the run arounds.
Better get ahead so you don’t get down.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
There is the road ahead.
Journeys to take.
Places to go.
People to meet.
Gotta get the tee-shirt for the proof.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
There must be more to life.
Smell the roses.
Take a break.
Enjoy the surroundings,
But full speed ahead.
Chances are the random beauty of life
With the ups and the downs and the run arounds
Better get ahead so you don’t get down.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
There is the road ahead.
Round and round it goes.
Stoppin’ for nothin’.
Another appointment.
Another commitment.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Ponder the moment so it gives rest.
Learn from mistakes.
Consider them tests.
Random beauty of life.
Chances are the random beauty of life
With the ups and the downs and the run arounds
Better get ahead so you don’t get down.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
There is the road ahead.
4. The Long Winter’s Night
As I lay my head against the down,
Thoughts of what used be flash all around.
The silence is quite deafening
Only shadows notice what is seen.
The pitch black dark creeps in so soon.
The sun comes up late and descends by noon.
By five the sun is out of sight.
The time has come for a long winter’s night.
So here I am alone again,
Not knowing whether to begin or end.
If I end and lay me down to sleep,
I’ll have to focus on what I sowed to reap.
I miss you terribly, yes, I do.
Yet I know that it was I the fool
Who made the choice to live as one
And express to you that we were done.
I kick myself each and every day,
Especially since I cannot say
The real true reason for your oust.
The truth that made me have to bounce…
You from my bed.
The reason that when I turn my head
I can’t see you because you’re not there.
My dream, my love, my night affair.
I cannot tell you because you’re fake.
You’re false, pretend, faux for goodness sake.
My imagination runs amuck.
I am just simply out of luck.
You were never real my love divine.
You were always a figment in my mind.
I must turn to reality
And this is why you cannot be.
If I find one as good as you
Please don’t be jealous but accept the new.
So goodbye my perfect bride in white
And leave me to my long winter’s night.
7. Humanity
The warming sun comes rolling in
A stare and a glare so often again.
A pleasant breeze comes drifting by
Harsh comments said. Why? Why? Why?
Dogs are playing in the park
But it’s the people who bark, bark, bark
A luminous sunset in the atmosphere
Yes, it’s humanity that I fear.
10. She Walks Alone
She walks alone.
Her destiny is ahead.
Where she will go is unknown.
Her hopes and her dreams are yet to be said.
She struggles and fights.
The battles are strong.
The pain she suffers often bites.
Her world is a mess as she goes along.
Support is rare and sometimes not there.
When she’s by herself, she lets her guard down.
At times what she does is too much to bear.
When she is quiet, she then hears the sound.
The sound of her heart as it beats on and on.
She hides her true sense behind what is known.
But if she’s not careful, her heart will be gone.
Where she will go is still the unknown.
She walks alone.
13. Slowly Spiraling Space
Everybody stood still.
It was not just the startling swish of the soaring stones
That shocked the scantily-clad, sleepy residents,
But it was what was left in space and sweeping closer and closer to earth
That made their skin stand on edge.
Thousands of stars had just fallen into the earth’s atmosphere,
But it was the striped path that the stellar beings scratched through the sky
That made the people stare in stupendous wonder.
What was spliced in the heavens was not
Just a straight line made by the stalactite-like meteors,
But an open swath in the evening sky, ever slowly spiraling nearer and nearer to the planet.
Normally a stretch of night sky void of stars would be standard.
Clouds, day or night, covering the sparkling lights were expected.
Often stratus layers swallowed visibility completely.
This evening was simply different.
The cavernous swipe was not standing still.
It was stooping lower and lower as scared spectators helplessly viewed the celestial abyss.
Steadily, as if overtly spying,
The open space spilled over the remaining stars.
This spontaneous black hole did not have the stealth of a stork
Or the sporadic smell of a skunk.
Striking fear into the swarms of screaming people, the space swiftly continued.
There was no stopping the coming strength.
Clocks struck the morning hour
When students would normally get up and go to school.
But the sky stayed dark.
Scientists started to skillfully study the phenomenon
That by the second threatened to swamp the planet.
Historians started to recall stories of the past to explain it away.
Scholars started to speculate as to the meaning.
Spiritualists started to consult the spirits.
What could be done to stop it?
What could be done to halt the coming scourge?
What could be done to steady this screwy spectacle?
The earth itself seemed to react to this encroaching galactic scandal.
Lakes, rivers and streams rose and heated as if they were stuttering and stammering, Doing their best to speak of the impending doom.
Even the streets buckled and strained under the stampeding steps
Of the crowds as they raced to places that they felt would stave off their destiny.
But, alas, no scientist could stop it.
No scholar or student could study it.
No historian could explain it.
And no spiritualist could scour the stymied and stumped spirits
When they themselves were shaken into a stirring stupor.
The darkened gap in the sky could not be stopped.
As if a stinging script was written in the stars,
The earth’s sphere would soon be strangled.
All this long-time staunch and stalwart planet could do was wait and wonder.
Would strength or destruction be its stated destiny?
Only after a small stint of time would the answer be shown.
16. Two Library Meetings
Two cultures together.
Two cultures apart.
Two separate lives lived.
So where to start?
In a winter month
When the year was new.
A chance library meeting?
Four became two.
Two departed quickly.
So noticeable their flight.
The sight was amusing.
The door was shut tight.
“Nice to meet you,” was said
As names were exchanged.
Work broke the meeting.
Funny but strange.
And as to intent,
More meetings were had.
An outing here, a dinner there,
Got me thinking, the girl’s not half bad.
Two cultures together.
Two cultures apart.
Two separate lives lived.
Is this weaving real smart?
The girl is more gorgeous
Then I would attempt.
These types of girls
I would never preempt.
Usually look from afar.
Admire and stare.
But actually take out.
Do I have a prayer?
Her style is striking.
Her pose is sublime.
Her words are few,
But that will change in time.
And as for funds,
It was plainly seen
That I was a pauper
And she was a queen.
Two cultures together.
Two cultures apart.
Two separate lives lived.
A good time to dart?
Cultures so different.
Is it worth the trouble?
But this one seemed worth it.
Ecstasy or rubble?
Advance to the spring.
Cinco de Mayo exact.
Tamales enjoyed.
“I have a boyfriend?” she gasps.
‘Twas obvious to me,
My spent time with her.
But on her it was lost.
We had to confer.
Boyfriend meant marriage.
A serious step.
For me it meant fun.
The first culture gap.
Not opposed down the road
Should things go well,
But too early for these thoughts.
Too early to tell.
Two cultures together.
Two cultures apart.
Two separate lives lived.
Is this very smart?
Her thinking is odd.
My ways are frustrating.
Sometimes the misunderstandings
Are more than debating.
The summer was filled
Sharing California delights
From Matterhorn curves
To Gold Country sights.
And yet there were times
That caused me to question,
“Were the gaps so wide
There’d be nothing but friction?”
Her viewpoints so different,
My ways so abnormal.
Sometimes the misunderstandings
Were simply just horrible.
Yet on the converse
She gave me such gladness,
Giving me joy
I forgot the sadness.
Activities shared.
Enjoyed together.
Concerts and games
In all kinds of weather.
Two cultures together.
Two cultures apart.
Two separate lives lived.
Now a blending of hearts?
And then comes the fall
A couple years later.
My mind is all in.
A mixing of cultural flavor.
A new library meeting.
The Huntington it is.
“Will you?” I ask.
No hesitation, “Yes.”
Many years later
Post “I dos” were said,
I think to myself,
“What might not have been?”
Two library meetings.
Each one unique.
Struggles to get here
And still a mystique.
Two cultures together.
Two cultures apart.
Two separate lives lived.
Yes, a weaved work of art.
2. She Got Under My Skin
She stepped into my life.
By mere chance some would say.
She stepped into my world.
Unbeknown to me her presence affected my each and every day.
My moods were swayed as if a leaf in the wind.
Why, because she was in my life.
When times were happy, the world could never end.
When times were sad or confused
I admit it, I felt used.
I wanted to get out, but she got under my skin.
I didn’t want to leave because she got under my skin.
She had no knowledge of what she was destined to do.
I had no knowledge of what I was to become.
It was as if she toyed with me.
Was it toying or was it real?
Was I just ignorant
Or refusing to stay still?
I told myself, “It’s okay if it doesn’t work out.”
“The sea is full of other fish,” others would encourage.
I knew this was true, yet my heart was in a spin.
Yet with the passing of time, the more I was discouraged.
I wanted to get out, but she got under my skin.
I didn’t want to leave because she got under my skin.
Every day I fell further and further down that proverbial pit.
There’d be moments when the light would shine.
There’d be instances when I knew that destiny would be bright.
Only to find out shortly that she didn’t want to be mine.
I wanted to get out, but she got under my skin.
I didn’t want to leave because she got under my skin.
O how it hurts.
O how it pleasures
Why can’t these feeling be turned off?
Why do I continually treasure?
I wanted to get out, but she got under my skin.
I didn’t want to leave because she got under my skin.
Then the final test came.
I was a horse to a carrot. I was a sheep to the slaughter
I was that toy on the string
And then she was gone.
I saw her again the other day.
I’d hoped that my feelings had changed.
No! They are stronger than ever. Why?!
She was pleasant and my heart again melted.
Why won’t she be mine?
Why can’t she be mine?
Will this story have that happy ending?
I wanted to get out, but she got under my skin.
I didn’t want to leave because she got under my skin.
5. Muchachita
No lifeline back
‘cept phone and airmail.
Valencia bound.
Is it freedom or jail?
A guarded heart.
Not gonna fall.
A world apart.
Can’t know it all.
The city is bustling.
The noises are strange.
People are hustling.
I’m out of my range.
A region of oranges
Tasting so sweet.
The ocean breeze
Conquers the heat.
Routine settles in.
Subjects are learned.
Friends begin.
Relationships burned.
Remember the heart
That was guarded and sane?
It now has gone crazy
Insane and insane.
So slight and so small
With the grace of a deer.
A muchachita. A perfect doll.
Her presence graced here.
My mind is a whirl.
No concentration.
Who’s this little girl?
Is this year done?
A breath of fresh air.
But my heart must be closed.
This isn’t fair.
I’m about to get hosed.
Emotions are awful
So direct and obscure
The guard must come down
There is no cure.
Muchachita. Muchachita
I did what I shouldn’t.
I let my guard down
When I promised I wouldn’t.
In pants of red and a blouse of black,
Cute and petite upon the step.
The guard is down and I’m not turning back.
It can’t be stopped now; there’s nothing left.
Muchachita, my world changed.
You graced my soul,
My life rearranged.
The heart made whole.
The months sped by
And soon time came
To say goodbye.
To mount train and plane.
No lifeline back
‘cept phone and airmail.
California bound
Is it freedom or jail?
8. Now
“You’re too young,” they say.
“You have your whole life ahead of you,” they cry.
“Slow down. Be logical.” Why!
“Think of your future.”
Now seems good.
Now seems right!
Now seem just as it should.
As if I could conquer the world.
Learn from the past. But don’t dwell on it.
Choose your goal. Don’t deviate.
I hate. I hate. I hate.
Look ahead. Pick your point.
Now seems right!
Now seems good.
Now seems just as it should.
As if I could conquer the world.
There comes a time in everyone’s life that decisions must be made.
Don’t rush them. Let them evolve. It will all work out.
No time like the present? Really?
Why then is the present disdained?
As if there is nothing to gain.
Only the future is good?
Now seems right!
Now seems good.
Now seems just as it should.
As if I could conquer the world.
Let me enjoy the now!
Let me enjoy the now!
11. The Girl From Obregon
A project to build.
Cabins, I think.
Pound the nails.
Stop for a drink.
Saw the wood.
Keep the trusses even.
Break for a rest.
Keep on believin’.
Then out of the blue.
And indeed out of context.
Out in the middle of nowhere
My mind becomes hexed.
No. Focus on work.
Keep your mind in the game.
Don’t be distracted.
Pretend all’s the same.
But things have changed.
For the good or the bad?
I have no idea
Why I’ve been had.
It’s a small group of girls
All giggling and sweet.
They stand in a cluster,
Hoping to meet.
No. Focus on work.
Keep your mind in the game.
Don’t be distracted.
Pretend all’s the same.
So cute and demure
With the darkest of eyes.
Skin golden brown.
I’ve been taken surprise.
She looks up at me
With her smile infectious.
“Hola,” I say and my world fades away
All disappears and leaves nothing but us.
No. Focus on work.
Keep your mind in the game.
Don’t be distracted.
Pretend all’s the same.
¿Comó estás?
Estoy muy bien.
Is this the beginning
Or is this the end?
¿De dónde vienes?
All is new.
Eres una princesa
Through and through.
She was 12 and I was 15.
I was smitten and she was aglow.
From Obregon she came.
To Obregon she’ll go.
No. Focus on work.
Keep your mind in the game.
Don’t be distracted.
Pretend all’s the same.
The week went so fast
And then she was gone.
Gone. Gone.
That girl from Obregon.
Looking back now,
It seems so trite and naive.
But at the time it was real
I didn’t want her to leave.
At the break of dawn.
The girl was gone
That beautiful girl from Obregon.
14. Pain, Happiness and Back Again
To know pain is to know happiness.
To know suffering is to know joy.
For without happiness, how then would one know pain?
For without joy, how then would one know suffering?
To stay in constant pain and sadness is a myth.
To stay in constant happiness and joy, a fable.
They are but revolving doors.
Never quite staying still.
In constant motion.
A constant vacillation.
Knowing that once pain is here, happiness will soon arrive.
Knowing that suffering has come, joy will follow suit.
Perhaps in an hour.
Perhaps in a day.
Perhaps in week
Or even a year.
But change it will and change it must.
Moments fleet and times vanish.
And although modifications are made.
And variations abound.
Be wise and beware,
Knowing bad becomes good and back again.
17. American Dates
The American should know these dates.
The dates that made us who we are.
The dates that make us contemplate.
The dates that keep us going far.
The first is 1588.
When out of indignation
This is the date
That kicked off this great nation.
The English feared complete annihilation.
As Spain’s armada drew so near,
A fog sacked in the Spanish transportation.
The Brits attack and then they cheer.
The sea lanes were completely clear.
Now England could be westward bound
For God and country, the time was here
And, most importantly, for the crown.
But a wasteland was England’s cry
Of this America across the marine
Gold and riches. Do or die.
None to be found. None to be seen.
This brings us to the next two dates.
As religious persecution was on the rise
In jolly old England the king did hate
Worshipers without disguise.
So in 1620 the Pilgrims crossed
For religious freedom to this new land
But the harsh winter laid a heavy cost
Upon these souls, upon their plan.
And thanks to Squanto and the Wampanoag too
That in 1621 Bradford could declare
That a Thanksgiving would be the glue
To give God thanks for the abundance there.
Then in 1776
Adams, Jefferson, Franklin and the rest
Let King George know that they had nixed
Any notion of his royal crest.
Down with this tyrannical dictator.
A new day brought new lofty heights.
Endowed by their creator
With certain unalienable rights.
France was strapped and needed cash.
And in 1803 it made Jefferson’s day
For the Louisiana Purchase made a splash
And the mighty Mississip' became the nation’s waterway.
In 1812 the Redcoats returned.
Canada invaded
And Washington burned.
U.S. dignity elevated.
Westward ho! Beautiful metal and shine.
The rush was on
In 1849.
California’s gold and dreams beyond.
Another war raged all around.
And 1863, during civil separation,
Is when President Lincoln stood his ground
And declared that slavery ended through emancipation.
In 1898 while harbored in Havana,
“Remember the Maine,”
Became the mantra.
The reign of Spain suggested the blame.
Territories were all the rage
Puerto Rico and the Philippines
Guam and Cuba upon the stage
A U.S. Navy upon the scene.
Then “Over there. Over there,” is what was cried.
In 1917 and ‘18
The doughboys bled and died.
Disastrous destruction ever seen.
Entering the Greatest War,
This was to be the last.
For never could the world be torn
And battles were something of the past.
That belief was soon debunked
When a few years later in ‘41
The Japanese precisely sunk
U.S. ships and infamy was begun.
Four years later this war did end.
Helped by the dropping of a bomb.
And many dates begin to blend.
Cold War, Korea and Vietnam.
One hundred years later and now the sequel.
Separate but equal was the act.
Certainly separate, but completely not equal.
Rosa Parks simply refused and sat.
Attention shifted to Blacks and Whites.
“I Have a Dream” in 1963.
MLK and Civil Rights
“Free at last.” Let all be free.
In 1969 NASA was in haste
To beat the Russians and do it soon.
A giant leap for the human race.
To place a man upon the moon.
In 1986 the Challenger burst.
In 1989 the Berlin Wall crumbled
In 1991 the Soviets dispersed
In 2001 the World Trade Center tumbled.
These are some dates that are near and dear
To the hearts of Americans who have no fear,
Knowing each day offers a new tomorrow
By realizing that it was yesterday from which we all borrow.
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3. The Joker, Dorks and Sailing Masts
The Joker, dorks and sailing masts,
Sorties, Nylons, Bobs and France.
These are the things I choose to see
As I remember what you meant to me.
Inexperienced and inept.
A bit naive and not adept.
I may appear to have confidence,
But it’s a ruse, I must confess
Yet I look at you and I wonder why
You are interested in such a guy.
I’m nothing special, nothing great.
Just a regular dude, following fate.
Up the hill in fact we go
Me behind you, whoa, whoa, whoa
Umm, your golden locks strand down your back
And where they lead, give me a heart attack.
So perfectly shaped in the jeans you wear.
Your skin so fair and that golden hair.
At least for the moment, I can claim you’re mine
As we walk in single file through the scent of pine
Oh, the summer sped by so fast
On the high seas, hoisting up the mast.
Then off to France, you did leave.
Our educations to achieve.
The Joker, dorks and sailing masts,
Sorties, Nylons, Bobs and France.
These are the things I choose to see
As I remember what you meant to me.
Parlez vous?
Merci boucoup.
You’re back again.
Je t’aime. Je t’aime.
The Joker needs his Vicki Vale.
El Fuerte and a Mexican rail.
Square dancing to the midnight hour.
The Gulf War and its air power.
New Year’s tub, assorted plays,
The music shared and naps in days.
The memory is so acute
From you, “epitome” and “astute.”
And in my naiveté,
Belief of endurance continually.
Rude awakening shot me through the core.
Pit in the stomach. Scared forevermore.
“Fundamentally different,” I am told.
After a nice day spent, I’ve been sold.
Taken for a ride. Taken to the cleaners.
Cannot believe the change that has transformed her demeanor.
No longer important. Apparently true.
She’s off to Korea, a land that is new.
She’s shedding the old and I’m from the past
My heart is now broken. I thought it would last.
No longer naive.
Completely deceived.
My life must go on.
Now you are gone.
The Joker, dorks and sailing masts,
Sorties, Nylons, Bobs and France.
These are the things I choose to see
As I remember what you meant to me.
6. Medieval Castles and Marshmallow Men
Medieval castles and marshmallow men.
The sentiments real, but the decor’s pretend.
The life of the party.
The wow of the crowd.
Step into a room
The sound gets loud.
The story begins not so long ago.
It’s one of those themes where friend becomes foe.
Pure and pleasant.
Trust and troth.
Honest and humble.
Vow and oath.
A simple girl seen in a dramatic class.
“Who is it?” was the question that had to be asked.
One with ties.
There is no chance.
Didn’t hurt to try
To dream to dance.
Would paths cross again?
Wait another year and then.
And then there she was.
A priestess robed.
In an Elliot play,
So distinctly clothed.
Now is the time to introduce the pickle.
Power held, yet there was this crinkle.
An unpretentious audition.
And landed the part
Of Miss Emily Gibbs.
Horse before cart?
The revenge of Hook on poor Peter Pan.
Belle and beast, a fairytale in a far off land.
So fun and so right.
A dream coming true.
Onto eternity.
The drawing of two.
Medieval castles and marshmallow men.
The sentiments real, but the decor’s pretend.
Making a life.
That’s what was done.
Into the arts
With plenty of fun.
Some times were up and some times were down,
But nothing abnormal floating around.
Magnetism unleashed
The public awaited the presence
Of a couple so perfect.
They shined luminescence.
If ever the perfect couple there was,
It was them. It was them. Just because. Just because.
Because their charisma
Effused without effort.
Who would believe that
Soon there’d be real hurt.
Tinseltown lights gleamed. Ventura Boulevard beamed bright.
The twist of fate became day and then became night.
That which was brilliant
Turned to deception and lies.
Enter third party.
Make way for good-byes.
Medieval castles and marshmallow men .
Hello! Are you there? This is no longer pretend.
“No children with you!”
Was screamed from the couch.
Self-confidence low.
It sounds cliché but ouch, ouch, ouch.
The girl seen in class had become someone new.
A girl unknown and a girl untrue.
The enchantment had ended.
The curtain had closed.
The girl went her way.
The magic deposed.
Medieval castles and marshmallow men.
The sentiments real, but the decor’s pretend.
And that is the story
And why it is penned.
Now gone are the days of
Medieval castles and marshmallow men.
9. Angelo Henderson Garvey Tout
(A tribute to Shel Silverstein)
Voice: Ryder Gullage; Electric Guitar: Magash
Angelo Henderson Garvey Tout
Just wouldn’t clean the garage out!
He’d do the garbage and clean his room,
Pick up the yard and use a broom.
And though his parents would scream and shout,
He simply wouldn’t clean the garage out.
The dust laid thickly all around.
If you were there you’d surely drown.
The cobwebs were so big and tall
That when you went down you’d have to crawl.
Wet cardboard boxes, newspaper scraps,
Worn out tires and water faucet taps.
A collection of shells, a collection of rocks,
A collection of bottles and some dirty old socks.
The tools were all scattered from here to there
With some dented in cans and a scratched up chair
A bent hammer, a pile of nails,
A saw without teeth and an old, rusty pail.
A screwdriver that was melted, an axe that was dull,
A level that was crooked and a pulley that wouldn’t pull.
The workbench was broken and coming apart
That it fell right on top of an old grocery cart.
The mess was growing more and more
Until it went right through the door.
It filled the house right to the top.
His parents were sure the house would pop.
This story did come about
All because Angelo Henderson Garvey Tout
Wouldn’t clean the garage out!
12. Descent and Ascent of Power
Electric Guitar: Tom Sayers
Why would anybody want to bomb the catacombs?
These silent tombs were an acknowledgement of folks
That had been slaughtered for their beliefs and conscious knowledge.
The aisles were tributes to where they had sung psalms and hymns.
But this was war. And in time of war, nothing is judged and nothing is condemned.
The government was psychotic in their wrath,
And they called in the bereted international corps
To defend the reign of the czar from the citizen coup
Seeking to wrestle power away from the law.
The descent of the powerful and the ascent to power by the bourgeois
Was subtle and obscene all at the same time
For the common people saw it as a delight to knock down the mighty.
To wrench the muscle out of the leaders that had had them under their thumb
Since before they were in their mothers’ wombs was their design.
Those in power would be chastened.
The weight of the tight control that the authority had held on the population
Was thorough and the people knew that it was now or never
Though they did not have a military show of strength,
They pledged to be solemnly united and whole in their assignment.
Knives, swords, bows and arrows were redesigned to give maximum force.
Used cartridges made ricocheting capable for mowing down the enemy
And wracking and wreaking psychological warfare
Caused the armored columns of the enemy to wreck.
Although foreign powers feigned support to align with the government,
The people knew that these laissez-faire foreigners were benign
And were only awaiting apropos leadership.
The citizens fought within borough after borough.
Whereas the enemy had planes, the rebels walked.
Whereas the enemy had radio communication
The rebels relied on writing, listening, rendezvousing and talking.
Their flow of information was quick.
The rapport they had for each other was strong.
The people hustled, jostled and wriggled for any advantage they could get.
Going out in groups of twenty, they slowly wrinkled the enemies’ plans.
They created faux campaigns that answered an enemy who saw them as fraught with fear. Strategy after strategy of the enemy went awry.
The people balked at the enemy who thought they could not be caught.
Crossing the isthmus and ransacking castles located on each isle,
They rustled everything from cupboards, to lodging areas,
To the great halls where bouquets sat on high ledges and wreaths hung
As if an enormous tsunami had impressively moistened those magnificent walls.
Then in the autumn the scenario transcended as they had hoped.
The enemy finally succumbed and consigned to the people
And power was wrested from their hands.
The damage that was wrought on this haughty tyranny brought them to their knees.
They became clay in the palms of the citizens.
A new day has debuted.
The people have chosen a new government.
There is a glow of new and better signs to come.
The veterans of the fight are satisfied.
They proudly wear their badges of honor.
Although some lost their limbs in battle
And certainly they lost many of their friends,
They know that in this fight for freedom, it was worth it.
15. Next
Strong are the roots that grow every day.
Built on the foundation of strength and play.
A future ahead.
A history behind.
Now is the time not to be blind.
The years speed by
And the passion gets hidden.
Temptations abound.
Many fruits forbidden.
Remember the days when life was free?
Spring became summer and then they could be
Simple and trusting.
Not a care in the world.
Then feelings shifted like a flag unfurled.
The years speed by
And the passion gets hidden.
Temptations abound.
Many fruits forbidden.
One went one way and the other another.
One in the mind and the other a lover.
Words were said.
Emotions ran high.
The vows that were made promised stay till they die.
The years sped by
And the passion got hidden.
Temptations abounded.
Many fruits forbidden.
The love that was had has been covered and buried
By the days and events that have been carried
Through time.
Through heartache and pain,
But also through exhilaration and gain.
Deep inside the feelings still smolder.
Enclosed and condensed underneath the lairs.
Perhaps once more he will chance to hold her.
One last night. It will be theirs.
The years sped by
And the passion got hidden.
Temptations abounded.
Many fruits forbidden.
The parting is quick as the sun arises.
Nothing but a simple goodbye is
All that is needed
To seal the end of dreams that had been.
To quietly say, “This is the end.”
The years sped by
And the passion got hidden.
Temptations abounded.
Many fruits forbidden.
Written and Performed by Joel Kindrick
Music by John Michael Roch
Track 9 Voice: Ryder Gullage; Electric Guitar: Magash
Track 12 Electric Guitar: Tom Sayers
Produced by John Michael Roch and Joel Kindrick
Engineered, Mixed and Mastered by JMR
Instrumentation and Programming by JMR
Recorded at The White Room Studio, Chatsworth, CA, January – April 2018
Photography, Graphic Design and Layout by: Rozy Kindrick and JMR
And thank you to the countless people who, for better or worse, have come in and out of my life, giving rise to these scribblings.