SOME KIND OF MAN

SOME KIND OF MAN

Running from or always chasing, that is this kind of man,

Looking over his shoulder is a way of life, trusting no one.

He carries a gun, on the wrong side of the law, this chosen life,

His morals are close to none, a killer for a price, anyone.

Some regret comes from his eyes as he won’t turn back now,

What can turn a soul black, a heart of stone with no compassion?

Some kind of man who will take away a life without thought,

Cold eyes, somewhere in life he became very lost.

Keith Garrett

SILENT WITH WORDS

SILENT WITH WORDS

Their voices can not be heard, speak without sound,

From their minds, words do form, communicate with signs.

Much to say in different ways as they plan their days,

Silent with words that can be heard, they reach out to the world.

Living in a silent land but they hear all that we have to say,

They are silent with words, listen and they shall be heard.

Keith Garrett

 

TALE OF AN OUTLAW

TALE OF AN OUTLAW

Sit back and listen as I tell you this tale of an outlaw,

As a child, his future was uncertain as both mother and father were killed.

Hungry with no one to turn too he begged for food,

Slept wherever might be shelter, survived as a thief.

As he grew he then met those who lived as he lived,

Without skills of his own, he set out on a stolen horse.

He now was a thief and an outlaw, listen further,

With a gun, he did not own he now robbed from those who did not steal.

Finally, he faced one who did not wish to give,

Murder was now his ultimate crime.

Hunted down by a sheriff and a posse, he was then caught,

Because he could not travel a road of good,

He now layed in the dirty street, dead.

Keith Garrett

WESTERN WORLD

WESTERN WORLD

What was it like many generations ago exploring a new frontier,

Starting a life where everything was so uncertain and dangerous.

Indians and bandits roaming the land trying to everyday survive,

The Indians living off the land, bandits taking all they can.

Building towns where a man or family can start a business for themselves,

Settling outside this town you choose to live and start a family of love.

You’ll have to rough it for a while longer as you have for so long now,

Waking to the morning light, at times cold as a hot cup of coffee will do.

Working hard from sunup till sundown with a dream in your heart,

A cabin with a fireplace, rooms built for comfort, a roof over your head.

The old west was more than a saloon with gambling, drinking, and gunfights,

It was about survival, discovery of new places, and things accomplished back in a time.

Hardship and disease, many died, gave their lives for a better life, triumph and sorrow,

These people from the past paved the way for dreams and success here in our today.

The pioneers had more struggles than can be imagined but also had to be tough and strong,

The old west is no longer alive but they did leave their mark, a path across the wilderness.

They survive and live in those today who overcome and succeed, worked through their pain,

The western world has changed but the blood and souls from the past are buried, their spirits

Maybe among us in ways as they are also surely gone off beyond this world where peace is theirs.

Keith Garrett

 

THROUGH DIFFERENT EYES

THROUGH DIFFERENT EYES

There we are together standing as the sun disappears,

Only a lonely tree keeps us company, we are alive!.

Many colors rest in the open sky as day turns to night,

We stand together yet apart with our own vision of life.

Through different eyes, do we see the same things,?

As only our thoughts create a separate way of seeing them.

We are two souls occupying the same earth, dreaming, wondering,

Watching the world in two directions, seeing a different way, imagine.

Keith Garrett

 

THIS IS MY LAND

THIS IS MY LAND

Generations have passed, presidents, as well as times, have changed,

Hundreds of years It has been that my family has worked this land.

From the days of the revolutionary war when my great, great, grandfather

Fought alongside many family, friends, and neighbors to be free.

Again In eighteen twelve, my great grandfather went to war for freedom,

My grandfather all the way down the line fought for the land we claimed and own.

The Civil War and every other war created for money or to take ownership of what Is wanted,

My family not only took part to defend this country and fight within It but we also fought

For what was and remains In our family, this Is my land and no person of power or not

Will ever approach and take with force this land without a fight, without gun In hand.

Keith Garrett

 

LOVE TRAVELS A DISTANCE

LOVE TRAVELS A DISTANCE

A boy and his dog, love between two,

Each day he waits at the stroke of four.

Soon they will be separated by circumstance,

Strength and courage will be tested, a faithful friend.

A boy cries in the night, a tear from a dogs eye,

Love travels a distance to see the smile on a face that cries.

Hundreds of miles traveled, across land and time,

Across a river swam, to the other side, love in a dog’s eyes.

He’ll meet many on the way, conquer with every stride,

Back home a boy waits, a prayer and wish in the night.

Struggle and pain, hunger or cold will not stop mans best friend,

Something so strong lives within this four legged friend.

At the stroke of four, he lies in wait,

Love travels a distance, together again.

Keith Garrett

 

BEFORE AND AFTER

BEFORE AND AFTER

There was a time when I was not here,

No thoughts, no name or identity were mine.

I had no pain or sorrow, not a thing for me to know,

Where was I before I became me, somewhere waiting?

A time will come when I am no longer here, will I have thoughts?

A name remembered, My identity will not be this body or mind.

Again there will be no pain or sorrow, I will be somewhere else,

Before and after, heaven bound, where was I before my first sound?

Keith Garrett

 

SUMMER OF ’76

SUMMER OF ’76

Such a long time ago now, at times I see yesterday,

The Summer of ’76, the eighth for me was now a memory.

I can still recall the last day of school at Bernardo Yorba Junior High,

The signing of yearbooks, celebration with friends as life would again change.

Do you remember as I do, a song playing on the loudspeaker? school’
s out!

Said goodbye to some favorite teacher’s, Mr. Pope, Mrs. McAfee, I’ll see you again.

We saw one another on these Summer days, a piece of us would forever change,

The Summer of ’76 was full of time with friends, hot days, swimming pools were best.

The hills were alive, time has taken much of their beauty away,

We laughed together, a part of us lives forever in our yesterday.

That was one of the best Summers, between eighth and ninth grade,

Plenty of hot days, down to Newport beach where the water and music were ours.

Whether it was an Ice cream, pizza, or a trip to the mall, we had it all,

Where was your favorite hangout spot? do you travel there in your minds,

There was a moment, a special place, the Summer of ’76 until it faded away.

I walked with friends down many a street, we were young, smiles of the day,

In the hills, mischief was our friend as we wandered where hills are no more.

Our faces met near a pinball machine, a store full of records, an outpost of jeans,

At times we walked hand in hand, boys, and girls we were at the age of fourteen.

It was the Summer of possibilities, dreams, and endless at the beach scenes,

Some have disappeared, others gone away, over forty years ago, a Summer of endless days.

Keith Garrett

 

ONE DAY THE EARTH WILL DIE

ONE DAY THE EARTH WILL DIE

Born into the universe, created for a reason by a force,

It’s too amazing to believe that the Earth just became as thought.

The planet was formed, made to have life of such a variety,

Beautiful colors and mysteries to be solved, discoveries made.

Just a thought but does man waste to much time wondering why,

Why all things are the way they are, we have a minute to see it.

Someday just as all life does, one day the Earth will die,

A giant ghost town floating within the sky, a different land we will find.

Keith Garrett