“PROMISES”

Blood of a man spills from a wound created,

From a wonderful heart runs blood unseen.

Broken will be our spirits by those we trust,

These are the words of men with no morality.

Promises are made with the slip of a tongue,

Easily spoken from minds without thought.

Hearts and souls, those with no dreams,

They take what they can, from their hands they squeeze.

Promises, promises, words with no character,

From those with no heart, broken, always broken.

Keith Garrett

POOL OF FIRE

Molten Lava, boiling flame, bathtub of hell,

Power so fierce rests below a mountain of death.

How long has it stood on a foundation of heated anger,

A pool of fire waits to touch the surface, it has no mercy.

Explodes without warning, rising, shooting into the waiting sky,

Flowing like a river, down where it takes away that which is in its evil path.

Volcano by name, a hollow mountain of liquid pain,

Erupt wicked mountain, show your hidden face.

Keith Garrett

THROUGH THE SNOW WITH YOU

Riding in this sleigh pulled by horses of white and brown,

With you sweet darling getting lost and never found.

The sky mostly cloudy, cold as the snow begins to fall,

Next to you feeling so warm, to each other a smile.

There’s a house in the distance, a fire burning inside,

Smoke from the chimney as we ride on by.

Just me and you, a dream come true, just me and you,

The trees are silent, run horses, run into the afternoon.

Together is what we do, through the snow with you.

Keith Garrett

POETRY IN MOTION

Always walking, consistently moving along or active,

Constantly thinking, analyzing things and people around.

It’s motion that keeps my body and mind alive and running,

It can only stop if I stop, I’m a man in motion.

Writing about the world and those in my mind, my wondering mind,

Has given me sight, the ability to visualize and better understand.

Words have no meaning without the mind to interpret definition,

Poetry is song and emotion without instrumental sound.

A combination of these now lives in me, words I write,

Motion I have, I am poetry in motion.

Keith Garrett

PLAYGROUND

IN MY MIND

There are times I like to escape from here,

Away from all this mess handed out from life.

Through my dreams’ and Imagination there’s a place to go,

A fantasy created by myself that only I hold.

Come with me on a journey Inside,

To my playground built for me, a place I can hide.

In my mind, I keep out that of which I choose,

Letting In only wishes of my perfect reality.

There’s a land of which I’ve come to find,

It’s a secret place, a playground In my mind.

Keith Garrett

PILLOW BENEATH MY HEAD

The days can be long. life is beautiful, life can be a battle,

Go to work and give all you have to the corporate plan.

The world is so fast now, keep up with the pace,

Fight it if you choose, get left in the dust.

Eyes can get blinded by events of the day,

Deafness to the ears when so much noise is heard.

Like a scary movie or a happy ending may be shown,

The way of the world is to fight and scramble till sleep

And tired takes you away.

I feel so tired and worn out on some days,

When the sun goes down and a shower feels so clean,

A hot dinner made, the lights go out and a pillow beneath my head.

Keith Garrett

PIECES OF THE UNIVERSE

Neutrons, protons, atoms, molecules from a billion years,

Fragments floating through space, Iron, granite, Asteroids are real.

The planets we know by name, ridiculous, they took one away,

Venus and Mars, all the rest including the darkness filled with stars.

A moon that glows, lights up in our night, at times not in sight,

What a sight, a huge ball of fire that warms our life, the sun rises and sets.

Here we have the earth, created by an eternal spirit where we all have our birth,

An amazing place, are there any other worlds like this in an entire universe.

The wind, the rain, the snow with many elements are pieces of the universe,

So many types of stones, particles that have been since the beginning of time.

Pieces of the universe, things still not known or discovered, pieces of life.

Keith Garrett

THE GREATEST TIME

Watching the kids throwing snowballs in the cold,

Snow falling down, clapping their hands, joyful sounds.

Sleds and saucers, laughter rings through the day,

I am here as I am shown the greatest time a child may have.

Making a snowman come to life, snow angels upon the ground,

Watching their dreaming eyes wish upon a star, a lifetime ahead.

Like looking back in time when the magic was more alive, it fades,

The greatest time is watching children fly with no scars to hide.

Keith Garrett

PAGES

My life starts’ out like a book, not yet a cover,

Nothing Inside, page one still not printed.

My story constantly being written with every breath,

How many pages there will be not known until the end.

This title was Imagined before my creation,

Cover to cover Is mine to write as I walk my life.

With each turning page, I Illustrate my own time,

The one before this just a memory In my mind.

Stay open It does until my story Is told,

Until I’ve been published, this mans’ book will not be closed.

Keith Garrett

ON THIS MOUNTAIN

As a child, he lived here many years before,

The great depression was not a time of all pleasant things.

It was, however, a time of childhood, a sunset for some,

There was a family of fathers and mothers, sons and daughters.

A boy was he of seventeen, a dreamer, a writer,

He had nothing but he had also everything.

On this mountain in Virginia, he was born,

So many days ago, long gone are they now.

He wrote his many thoughts by a lamp in the night,

Played games with his brothers and sisters.

Together this family sat together for dinner each night,

A lifetime ago is when this story was told.

By a boy whom with his family struggled but did laugh as they

Were blessed with much love and togetherness,

On this mountain, once upon a time.

Keith Garrett