I Accept

I decline, to take your wine
But of your hospitality I will partake
As your gesture is true and very kind
So of your joy, I will not forsake.
I will sit with you, the whole night though
As you drink your glass of wine
I can be the student and you the guru
And from that happiness I will not decline.

As I had spoke, I will not smoke
But of your habit you should enjoy
And those words I will not revoke
Though myself smoking it does annoy.
Smoke your smokes, I hope I don't choke
As you puff on your cigarette or cigar
Enjoy that taste with pleasure's awoke
As for your smoking habit I will never debar.

I refuse to eat, any of your foods or meat
But thank you for asking about my appetite

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poem by Randy McClave
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Blames The Mother

She blames all of her troubles on her mum
She never blames her faults on herself,
The reason she got married so many times
Its because she did like her mum, why else.
The reason she drinks is her mum did too
And that's the reason she goes to the pubs,
And the reason she has had so many men
Its because her mum, never showed her love.
She does not know how to make a commitment
And that too, she blames on her mother,
And the reason she swears and that she also curses
It is because of her mum, and no other.
She has her daughters to hate their own fathers
Just like her mother had her hated her on dad,
And then years later when she found out the truth
She agreed with him, that her mum was mad.
She lies and cheats and she also steals
Just as she said her mother did the same,
And now she says she sees not a problem in it
And that too, her mum is to blame.

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poem by Randy McClave
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Thief In The Night

She came and gone like a thief in the night
Though she wasn't a stranger she was my wife
She robbed and stole and then broke my heart
If only I knew how she really was from the start.
She came in my life so many years ago
At the junction of my life when I needed to grow
As I had searched the world and she I did find
Happy I had thought that we shared the same mind.
Then I found out she was pretty face with an evil soul
But sad to find out in truth that, that others also did know
She had used and cheated and lied in her past
And now I am not first and I know I will not be the last.
Now she has taken another victim by the hand
I wander how long he will be used until he will understand
But then he too is also a liar a coward and a thief
And sad to say his parents are the same as I do see.
He has the little man syndrome as I have been told
So onto a taller person he wishes upon to hold
With not many hairs on his head so he stands ashamed
So he keeps his head covered as though it is too rain.

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poem by Randy McClave
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The Adulterous Wife

As her Children sleep in their bed
While her husband lays down his sleepy head
She quietly gets up and starts continuing her lies,
As this is the story, of the Adulterous wife.
She lies and cheats and do the sins that she shouldn't,
Sadly though, this isn't the first time for this woman
As in her past she has done this all before
Sadly her husband didn't know, that he had married a whore.
As when he is at work, she was never at home
And when her girl's slept, she was never alone
She lied and cheated and used her husband for a price
As this is the story of the Adulterous wife.
She sneaks out of the house whenever she can
So she can jump in the bed of another man
He then uses her, and then she lies to him
But neither can lie to GOD, when their beginning becomes their end.
And when her daughter's get older and they feel the strife
I wander if they will be like their mother, the adulterous wife
She argues and fights with her husband all the time
Loyalty and love to her husband has been left far behind.

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poem by Randy McClave
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A Married Woman

I received letter from my lovers
And also letters from my ex,
They tell me how their life is going,
And I tell them my life is very complex.
I tell them about my nights and day
And also what's going on in my life,
They tell me how they miss and love me
And how they wish I was their wife.
They tell me they will come and visit me
That is, whenever that they can
But because they live so very far away
They might not never but this I understand.
My ex's or lovers they don't hold a job
The Government and tax payers take care of them
While other Men work with the sweat on their brow
They never do, as they are not that type of men.
So them and I we have all this free time
We do what we want at any time at all,
Sometime we are in bed, and sometimes a drive
As I am always waiting for the mail or phone call.

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poem by Randy McClave
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Planted A Flower

I planted me a flower
Though my friends say a weed
In my garden from a forgotten seed.
So I planted it deep
And around it I hoed
So someday my flower would grow.
But my flower never came
From the sunshine or the rain
That GOD placed above its head.
And so my friends would just laugh
Every time that they would pass
My garden, my plant and I.
Gardeners were them all
As though they have been called
To bring beauty upon our sight.
And a gardener wasn't I
Just a poet in disguise
And for that reason I sat and cried.
More care to my plant I gave
And more affection to it I showed.

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poem by Randy McClave
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Makeup

When you wake up in the morning
And you put the makeup upon your face
Do you try to cover up the age and lines
Or only the sins and deceptions and the disgrace.
Do you try to place on a happy smile
By putting bright lipstick upon your lips
Or do you try to cover up your own hard life
Something that someone like you never forgets.
And as you look into your mirror
Do you powder the many lines upon your face
The lines that has stretched from years ago
Unto the present days of your life and waste.
Do you try to cover up the bags under your eyes
From all the many restless and sleepless nights
The nights when you cared not where you went
As long as you went and held on to someone tight.
Do you place the powder upon your cheeks
To make you look so cheerful and so very nice
But as they say you cant judge a book by its cover
And if they knew you, they need only to think twice.

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poem by Randy McClave
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As I Lay

As I lay there dying
You are somewhere not crying
As you know not where I am.
I ask the Lord to forgive you
Then I ask him my soul to soothe
Finally his glory I do understand.
I think back when we had met
I was full of happiness and no regret
But that was so many years ago.
But then you forgot what I did for love
Not for him or her, but only for us
And the love in my heart that once did flow.

As I lay there bleeding
You are nowhere near not weeping
And how happy I am just for you.
I fought this battle now I’m all alone
Your sins now you must atone
As for me there is nothing else I can do.
I take a walk inside my mind

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poem by Randy McClave
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Spirit's About Us

If they are spirits about us,
Would we do the things that we do
Or would we want to be better persons
Especially if they be spirits we once had knew.
Would we still say the things that we do say
And would we act the ways that we do,
That is, if they are spirits among us,
And if any of them, we once had knew.
If we knew they were here about us
And that never we were not alone,
No matter where we might go or what we might do
Or whether we be traveling or here at home.
Would we act the way that we do act
Or would we think about the things that we do
Would we say the things that we do say
If we knew that a spirit were next to me or you.
Would we still cheat or think about cheating
Or telling lies to the people that we meet
Especially if we knew loved ones were next to us
And our sins cause those spirits to weep.

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poem by Randy McClave
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The Counselor

As they sit behind their made up desks
As they try to counsel one and another
While putting the blame on the world itself
Which includes everyone, except for each other.
They look at their diplomas upon the wall
Which brings a smile upon their face
Now they believe they are better than one and all
So now they tell you why, you had your fall from grace.
They look in their books and go in a deep thought
And give you sympathy as they do speak
They are sorry for the feelings inside your soul
But for you, they are here truly for your belief.
They might stand up and then pace the floor
And maybe think as they scratch their head
Telling you the reason for the problems you have
And that all comes from the books that they have read.
They laugh and they joke as they converse to others
Who has the degrees on the wall like themselves
Where they analyze everyone that does come around
While inside your soul, they say they have felt.

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poem by Randy McClave
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