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It Is Never Too Late Harold Schwules
From A Time to Mourn, A Time to Comfort
Dedicated to those who have passed and their loved ones.
The last word has not been spoken
the last sentence has not been writ
the final verdict is not in
It's never too late
to change my mind
my direction
to say "no" to the past
and "yes" to the future
to offer remorse
to ask and give forgiveness
It is never too late
to start all over again
to feel again
to love again
to hope again
It is never too late
to overcome despair
to turn sorrow into resolve
and pain into purpose
It is never too late to alter my world
not by magic incantations
or manipulations of the cards
or deciphering the stars
but by opening myself
to curative forees buried within
to hidden energies
the powers in my interior self.
It is never too late
in sickness and in dying,
Living, I teach
Dying, I teach
how to face pain and fear
Others observe me, children, adults
students of life and death
Learn from my bearing, my posture,
my philosophy.
It is never too late-
Some word of mine,
some touch, some caress may be remembered
some gesture may play a role beyond the last
movement of my head and hand.
Write it on my epitaph
that my loved ones be consoled
It is never too late.
Contents
Native American Prayer
I give you this one thought to keep-
I am with you still- I do not sleep-
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet buds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not think of me as gone-
I am with you still- in each new dawn.
Contents
Song of Expectancy George Hitchcock
I wait for her who restores my fingertips
I wait for the moons which will grow on my nails
I wait for the night with its intricate gloves
I wait for the skeleton keys
I wait for the emigrants in glass boats
For the rivers with their green hair
The synagogues which lie just under water
And the jewelled eyes in the willowtree
I wait for the ravens to settle on fencerails
With wings like Finnish wimples
I wait for the pinetrees to explode the stars
And for the clouds with their windows of rain
I wait for the sherrifs who always arrive
With tomorrow manacled between them
I wait for the bandits and their crucified children
Who wear roses of gauze on their masks
For the ragmen who gather our hearts on spikes
The centurions pissing in cemeteries
The cowboys driving cadavers before them
And their yelping mutts whose fur is afire
I wait at last for ignorance and its subpoena
For silence with its headless drum and pews full of empty hats
For sleep which pours in foam from the ribs
And for the dark sad waters where legends swim backwards like squid
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Not Too Far From Here Ty Lacey
A beautiful and moving song, especially sung by Michael Crawford.
Somebody's down to their last dime,
Somebody's running out of time,
Not too far from here.
Somebody's got nowhere left to go,
Somebody needs a little hope,
Not too far from here.
And I may not know their name,
But I'm praying just the same,
That you'll use me Lord, to wipe away a tear,
Cause somebody's crying,
Not too far from here.
Somebody's troubled and confused,
Somebody's got nothing left to lose,
Not too far from here.
Somebody's forgotten how to trust,
And somebody's dying for love,
Not too far from here.
It may be a strangers face,
But I'm praying for Your grace,
To move in me,
And take away the fear.
Cause somebody's hurting,
Not too far from here.
Help me Lord,
Not to turn away from pain.
Help me not to rest
While those around me weep.
Give me Your strength and compassion.
When somebody finds
The road of life too steep.
Somebody's troubled and confused,
Somebody's got nothing left to lose,
Not too far from here.
Somebody's forgotten how to trust,
And somebody's dying for love,
Not too far from here.
Now I'm letting down my guard,
And I'm opening my heart.
Help me speak Your love
To ev'ry needful ear.
Someone is waiting,
Not too far from here.
Someone is waiting,
Not too far from here.
Contents
The Invitation
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
From the book The Invitation
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."
It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
Contents
Dear Mr. President Alix Olson
dear Mr. President,
i don't want to be in your military i don't want to bury
my own kind i want to make up my own mind
about who i hate not what the national slate
has in mind
you see the american interest is rarely in mine
and i've got my own wars to rage i don't need to engage
in your war for oil oversea in between my lovers legs is slick enough
for me
i'm the lesbian, my mark you see
so i don't need a major to tell me what to be
or who do to things to somewhere across the pacific
my sex is too specific
to report to a general and in general
things don't respond to command so why do we demand
to be apart of this masculine swarmee that poses as a national army
see i've seen armies seen em on picket lines, welfare lines
seen em storming the capital storming the streets demanding justice
and peace
i've heard of armies in history
birmingham, montgomery
but these dressed to kill boys but they're made to kill toys
these yellow ribbons that choke the trees please
it's a joke a sadistic display of militaristic play
that ends in american dreams for the owners of both teams
and who suffers who buffers
the attack who lacks the cash to decline the invitation to the nation's
most expensive party those hardy
boys promised schooling then sent on their way to collect their pay
from the grave well this gay don't mind being war depraved,
honey, we can fight for more than big boys and their money
i'd rather fight phil knight bomb all his bombs
i'd rather wage a gay crusade on the pope
quote my girl in front of his nose
i'd rather prose a problem that disney excludes michael eisner as a
miser
mickey mouse as leader of the rat race i'd slice right down that rodent's
face
and it's a disgrace to be a rapist of developping nations
when we can't stop the rape of developping girls
i'd rather unfurl an attack on our money guzzling undercovering embezzling
enemies imprisoning just us with no dollar power
impersonating power from their donald trump tower
yes our million enemies with their billion dollars with their trillion
crimes
waging their personal war on the poor for more power in this world of
ABC, CBS, NBC this country runs from C-E-O to shining C-E-O
sending us across the ocean for the promotion of their cash devotion
ideology a wild desire superstar badge of bravery for enduring modern
day slavery
in meniachly driven death trap
anyway
i'd give the U.S a bad rap
I'd kiss every fine Iraqi dyke on the front line
fuck national pride i'd go to their side
i prefer cross national desire to cross fire
anyway and i don't need your fatigue uniforms to perform
my battles i'm wearing layers of tired just from battling the liars
of our system every day and
my dear mr. president
i'd rather die lying in the heat of a fuck i call mine
than the fuckin line of duty you've made mine but fine
it's the new big thing to demand inclusion in your land intrusion
at the military to request same sex affirmitive action to defactionalize
who dies and your money for the man, Cspan, can scam
lost and found game you call war
where we get to lose our lives when you've found what's worth more
well when this dyke dies she'll go down knowing what it's for
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Beauty Tips Audrey Hepburn
May this beautiful angelic spirit rest in peace.
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a
day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived,
reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand,
you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands;
one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.
Contents
America's On Sale Alix Olson
ATTENTION SHOPPERS!!!
attention 9 to 5 folk, cell-phone masses,
the up and coming classes,
attention sports-utility,
plastic-surgery suburbanites,
viagra-popping, gucci-shopping urbanites
attention george-clooney loonies,
promise-keeper sheep,
stockbroker sleep-walkers,
big investment talkers,
ricki lake-watchers,
attention walmart congregation,
shop til you drop generation,
ATTENTION NATION!
AMERICA'S ON SALE!
We've unstocked the welfare pantry
to restock the wall street gentry
it’s economically elementary
because values don’t pay
yes, american dreams are on permanent layaway!
(there was limited availability anyway)
the statue of liberty is being dismantled,
$10 a piece to sit on your mantle or hang on your wall
by the small somalian child
you bought from sally struthers
sisters and brothers, it’s now or never,
these deals won’t last forever-
AMERICA’S ON SALE!
(restrictions may apply if you’re black, gay or female And shoppers!
global perspective is ninety-ninety percent off
cause most of the world don’t count to us.
our ethic inventory is low
because moral business has been slow,
the values-company is moving to mexico--
and ALL ETHICS MUST GO!
It’s a remote control america that’s on sale
because standing up for justice can’t compare
to clicking through it from a lazy chair--
Answer: jerry, montel, oprah
Question: folks who really care!
for $1,000,000,000!
in this new mcveggie burger world order
where the mainstream scene has an alternative theme.
sugar daddy and ginger spice
and all cultures spliced and diced,
that’s what music is made of when
AMERICA’S ON SALE!
National health care is one-hundred percent off!
and medicare is in the 50% bin,
so you can buy--
half an operation
when AMERICA’S ON SALE!
there’s a close-out bid to detxermine which religion will win
all the neon flashing signs of sin.
the christian coalition is bidding high
shoppers, you ask WHY?!
who needs a higher power when you’ve got the purchasing power
to corner and market
one human mold.
That’s right- Real family values are being UNDERSOLD!!
And it’s open hunting season for the NRA!
there’s a special oozie discount-- only today!
Gun control?! We say--
Fuck it! Blow it all away!
welfare mothers are on the auction block again,
we’re closing out this country the way we began!
so step up for our fastest selling commodity
no waiting lines for HIV,
condoms and needle-exchange are a hard to sell thing
(to the right wing)
while America’s on sale!
We’re selling fast to the AT∓mp;mp;T CEO,
he’s stealing all utilities, he doesn’t pass go,
and collects all the money anyway!
he’s the monopoly winner cause he bought the whole board
and we bought the whole game
now no price is the same!
Because inflation is up on the CEO ego
and power is deflated as far as we go:
Nike bought the revolution,
and law schools bought the constitution!
Tommy Hilfiger bought the red, white, and blue,
(a flag shirt for fifty dollars,
the one being burned is you!)
Marlboro bought what it means to be a man,
Lexus equals power- so get it while you can.
Maybelline bought beauty,
New York’s buying Rudy Guiliani,
Mastercard Gold bought the national soul
Broadway bought talent and called it CATS!
the Republicans bought out the Democrats-
they liquidated all asses in a fat white donkey sale-
now it’s buy one shmuck, get one shmuck free
in the capitalist party!
And there’s nothing left to get in the way
of a full blue-light blow-out
of the U.S. of A!
there’s a:
no-nothing back guarantee,
a zero-year warranty,
when you buy this land of the fritos, ruffles, lays..
this home of the braves, the chiefs, the reds, the slaves!
so call 1-800- i don’t care about shit
or www.FUCK ALL OF IT!
to receive your credit for the fate of our nation-
(call now! interest is at an all-time low)
But hurry shoppers!
because america’s being downsized, citizens,
and you’re all fired.
Contents
Phenomenal Woman Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman.
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Contents
Still I Rise Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Contents
Untitled Sappho
Thorned in splendor, beauteous child of mighty
Zeus, wile weaving, immortal Aphrodite,
smile again; your frowning so affrays me
woe overweighs me.
Come to me now, if ever in the olden days
you did hear me from afar, and from the
golden halls of your father fly with all speeding
unto my pleading.
Down through mid-ether from Love's highest regions
swan-drawn in car convoyed by lovely legions
of bright-hued doves beclouding with their pinions
Earth's broad dominions.
Quickly you came; and, Blessed One, with
smiling countenance immortal, my heavy heart
beguiling, asked the cause of my pitiful condition-
why my petition:
What most I craved in brain-bewildered yearning;
whom would I win, so winsome in her spurning;
"Who is she, Sappho, so evilly requiting
fond love with slighting?
"She who flees you soon shall turn pursuing,
cold to your love now, weary with wooing,
gifts once scorned with greater gifts reclaiming
unto her shaming."
Come thus again; from cruel cares deliver;
of all that my heart wills graciously be giver-
greatest of gifts, your loving self and tender
to be my defender.
Contents
The Stolen Child Yeats
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen chetries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefull of weeping than you
can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To to waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For to world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For be comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
from a world more full of weeping than you
can understand
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The New Colossus Emma Lazarus, 1883
Dedicated to my great-grandparents and all others seeking a new life.
Not like the brazen
giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, her name
Mother of Exiles, Frm her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, you storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
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Dedicated to All Our Fighting
Men Mary Gait Gampen, Nov. 1942
For he has gone
now to take his place beside
those who defend the countries we hold dear.
His heart is brave. His courage is never failing.
Onward he goes, knowing his death is near.
Yes, he has fallen,
but the battle raves.
His comrades now take up the fight.
Death is not in vain to men such as these
who know that, in the end, will down a glorious light.
Theirs are the
lives of heroes ever hoping that,
when the sub shall rise on peaceful shores
freedom will reign, and future generations
will never know the horrows and the cruelty of wars.
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