innocence

THE SECRET TREE

Sally came running in the door…”Grandma I have a secret!” She yelled.

It’s a really, really good secret…but I promised not to tell.”

 

“I want to keep my promise but you don’t know how hard it’s been.”

“Trying not to tell anyone…trying to keep this secret in.”

 

Sally looked up at her Grandma…her wide eyes, big and blue…

“Grandma can you help me?  Grandma tell me what to do?”

 

Grandma took Sally out to her back yard saying…“There’s something I want you to see.

They sat down under a very large oak… “This is my secret tree.”

 

“Grandma…” Sally laughed …”This is not a secret tree!

Everybody knows about it…everyone can see…”

 

Grandma put a finger to her lips…and gently shook her head

“The tree is not the secret, silly…it’s what it holds.” she said.

 

Ever since I was a little girl…and a secret was given to me

I’d hurry home and sit right here…underneath this very tree.”

 

“And when I was sure I was alone…that secret I’d retrieve

then I would let that secret out and share it with the leaves.

 

And so this tree is filled with secrets…every secret I ever brought

secrets she will never tell…and some I’m sure I’ve long forgot….

 

With that Grandma stood up and walked away…happy as can be

leaving Sally all alone in the shade of her secret tree.

 

On her way to the house Grandma turned around and smiled…

She couldn’t be sure but she believes

Sally was whispering to the tree

 

sharing her secret with the leaves.


Eyeful Girl

Don’t wear those tires down
Rolling them round and round
Every time you go to town

 

To see a tender picture show
With that eyeful girl again
Slow hand to be her beau

 

The softest place ever been
Her eyes, they never end
With every look, you fall right in

 

Bend round Long Mountain
Roll home jingle jangle truck
You gonna see that girl again

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STALAG 17

Remember when you didn’t know about
Death…..
Every day was an adventure
Highlights…
Your Toys….
Ice-cream…
A walk through the fields
Like a trip into the unknown
Just two miles….
Will you get home before its dark?
Dirty knees…
Sole flapping on your shoe….
No resupply…
Till Mams sausage and mash…
Sunday night…..
Bloody bath-night…
Nick your chin…
Dads razor….
Torch on under the sheets
‘JAP KILLER’ in the Commando
Torch flickers…..
I will dig a tunnel
Escape Stalag 17
Lights out….
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ……

© Tony McNally

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Anna, Dreaming

Folder: 
2014

She sleeps with her arms

flung above her head

a beautiful rag doll

come to life

 

She tosses and turns

As the night drags on

She speaks to a friend

no one can see

 

She's a shadow

cast upon the wall

By the glow of the miniature moon

in the corner

 

She laughs with her teeth showing, 

Loves with her arms open wide.

But I like her best when she's sleeping…

And that is Anna, 

dreaming.

 

She rests on a wooden frame

made of their memories of her, 

the hands she's held

and the shoulders she's hugged, 

and the people who brush past her on the street

with lives of their own.

 

She thinks of another home, 

with a bright green door

and purple flowers

covering her shoes.

 

She wishes, 

just like anyone, 

but she is content

to lie on a wooden frame

with her arms flung above her head.

 

She laughs with her teeth showing, 

Loves with her arms open wide.

But she's most beautiful when she's sleeping…

And that is Anna, 

dreaming.

 

Her light hair

is draped across her face, 

shivering in the wind

that is every breath she takes.

 

Her closed eyes

with their fragile lids

tell me everything

I need to know.

 

She loves things she knows

and things she doesn't know

and things no one knows

and things that don't exist yet.

 

She laughs with her teeth showing, 

Loves with her arms open wide.

But I wish you could see her sleeping…

And that is Anna, 

dreaming.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/23/14

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tags:

INNOCENCE

One of my favorite attributes of children, when I see it I feel blessed,

Is the enthusiastic, unbridled innocence with which they all possess.

 

A child will sing uninhibitedly before he realizes there’s a song.

A child will dance spontaneously whenever music comes along.

 

A child will draw upon a canvas before she realizes it’s a wall.

A child will climb as high as she can before she knows that she can fall.

 

A child will run around naked before he realizes there is shame.

And until we teach them differently a child treats everyone the same.

 

A child will stick her finger anywhere before she knows that thinking’s flawed.

A child will marvel at the heavens before she knows there is a God.

 

A child will play with a ray of light before he realizes there’s a sun

A child will attempt to pull a trigger...before he realizes it’s a gun.

 

Since the tragedy at Sandy Hook 173 more children have died by guns

Never again to run around naked or play in the rays of the sun.

 

Never again to sing, or dance, or draw upon a wall

Never again to marvel at the Heavens, to climb up high, or fall.

 

These 173 individual cases are everywhere we look

Each tragic death of a child is someone’s Sandy Hook.

 

Each loss of life...of innocence makes us want to stand up, scream and yell

For we all know with each death our innocence is lost as well.

 

There are solutions to this problem...solutions we all know

For Heaven’s sake when we needed it we found a cure for Polio!

 

It’s up to us to help assure our children will survive.

It’s up to us to help ensure their innocence will thrive.

 

Until we do we’ll continue to grieve but our grieving will be for nought

 

As we try to explain to our children why their innocence is shot.

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Latent Prince

 

 

..............

 

Part I of II

 

 

This is the story of Larry Joe Prince

And the way Arizona stole his innocence.

It is written with hope that there may come a day

When a wise judge will grant him his moment to say

All the things so conveniently left out of court,

Made American “justice” look more like a sport,

With a high-priced attorney that didn’t think clear,

And the false testimony of one with much fear,

And the state prosecute thought “I’ll surely reach fame”,

He said, “Hell, I don’t care who the state wants to blame,

It’s a paycheck to me; I don’t care about truths,

It’s my ego I feed, I’m a low lying sleuth!!”

 

So they all drew their “guns” on that guy Mr. Prince,

Absolutely no shred of secure evidence,

They proceeded to send him to death row to sit,

For the murder of one that he did not commit,

And the biggest and worst sin of all that was done,

Was the way that the people held on to their “guns”,

They embraced all the lies to evade what was clear,

As revenge prevailed justice with each little tear,

And for those in the grave who just watch from above,

With no longer a voice to teach them that real love,

Is not proven by putting the blame on a man,

Just because he is there….cause the courts and you can,

 

See the proof of one’s love speaks out so very clear,

Even after the grave when one’s body’s not here,

You will hear their soul cry, and you’ll then know for sure,

If they’re resting in peace or they’re haunted some more.

 

There are families that hide from life’s reality,

The dead man in this case begs you hear his soul’s plea,

Make amends for the errors you’ve made in the past,

And put down all those stones, and those already cast,

If this dead man could speak he’d have something to say,

Of the circus that ran through the courtroom that day,

And if not for the dead man then do it for you,

Cause we all have to answer to God what is true,

Larry Prince knows he’s clear and he wins either way,

                              Cause he’s INNOCENT judge, the state’s in disarray.                                

So please read all with care on this day we implore,

Please don’t look at this life as a game where you score,

It’s integrity that is of stake in this court,

And it’s not mine or yours it’s this country’s that’s short

Of a quality no longer active today,

If it dies, it’s the lives of our loved one’s…they’ll pay.

Take your time, read it all, and be true to your heart,

And we’ll all pray it’s not too late for a new start.

 

 

Part II of II

 

 

They all loved cocaine but they hid it from Dad,

He just couldn’t believe that his kids could be “bad”,

So his eyes he did close, and they stayed tightly shut,

While his best offspring died with that stuff in his gut,

And they said, “It was murder”, and placed the blame there,

Yes, it’s true ‘bout that bullet and blood in his hair,

And the roots of that crime have been hidden so well,

By the real guilty ones with the lies they did tell,

For those self-righteous ones that just stared and stood by,

And condoned this deceit without batting an eye,

For the cowards that watched as the killers went free,

Be aware this could happen to you or to me,

And your sons or your daughters could one day be led

To a place where they wish they would rather be dead,

So now don’t be afraid to let truths in your ears

When your children are hurting with eyes full of tears,

Don’t you cower or shudder, don’t whine and don’t wince,

And remember the story of Larry Joe Prince.

 

Written in parts, from 2000-2002

Original Copyright 2002 

Registration Number / Date:

                   TXu001112792 / 2002-12-02

 

..................

 

07/21/13 ©

 

*

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The story of how justice can go awry when emotions rule instead of justice ruling.

 

http://www.postpoems.org/authors/nightlight1220/prose/953553

 

...........

Imitation is Flattery

      

 

she told a white lie

 

and it turned black as coal

 

the poor thing didn't realize

 

that she sold her own soul

 

2013 ©

 

.....................

Legal Rape

 

 

......................

 

families gather in a place of condemnation,

weary, excited, downtrodden, in a 'fair and equal' nation,

look foward to a day, when they see the face of a loved one,

behind a plexiglass window framed in steel, with the aura of being 'under a gun',

little ones elated, of the day they see daddy's face,

it matters not to them, they must be in this place,

just a look, a glimpse, of so much time lost,

and mothers, sisters and brothers, all pay the cost,

arrive at the gate, the car is searched,

and in the distance, the attack dogs, hungrily perched,

the car is dismantled, and questions of interrogation,

what are these pennies for? (i didn't know i needed a reason).

reaching the entryway, a small piece of material is given,

we ask, 'what is this for'? (no answer--excuse me for livin'),

one woman steps up to be searched for the visit,

"rub that piece of material across you breasts, ma'am", (what? this seems illicit!),

she complies, without complaint, because the kids want to see dad,

and now, she too, has been made to feel she is bad,

the other officers gawk, they seem to be enjoying this,

some even appear they'd love to give her a kiss,

little ones stare, they don't know of mama's shame,

mama says to them "oh honey, the nice man's just playing a game",

he takes the material, and places in a machine,

the drug test comes up negative, his face gets mean,

he tells her, "no, wait, miss!!! you can't go!" (it's like a threat),

"you must now rub it between your legs, we're not done with you yet!",

the woman looks at me, her face is beet red,

we all feel helpless, in shock, we can't believe what he said,

she takes the piece of material, and rubs it between her thighs,

he says "no not like that! higher!" (and this poor lady begins to cry),

he doesn't apologize, or have any sensitivity that what he's doing is rape,

his fears have swallowed him completely, 

our mouths are agape,

we all go through this process, feeling so violated, and psychologically torn,

then we force the smiles on our faces, we can't complain or mourn,

and this is just one ingenious scheme, an obstacle, one tactic,

that divides families who have someone in prison--(yes, you're right, it's sick),

had i not seen it with my own eyes, how these innocent people were made to sob,

why on earth do they have these obstacles and these people in these jobs?

so the one time these people get to see their loved one in a year,

they go through the entire visit, feeling bad, ashamed, and in fear.

 

9:36 AM 7/12/2013 ©

 

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Tainted

Folder: 
Tainted

Driven snow, pure and untouched

Sprinkled on the grass

The headlights of the distant cars

Cast soft lights as they pass

How beautiful the whiteness is!

How innocent it seems!

For cruel reality has not appeared

To rip apart her dreams

 

Only fate would be so wicked

As to touch the spotless snow

 Only fate would ever dare

To taint the virgin’s glow

Then life paints a crimson stain

That blots the sheet of white

A coat of shame, a blanket of pain

Lies hidden by the night

Tarnished, it is beautiful no longer

 It is admired no more

And so I bow my head and weep

For the loss of something pure