The Jacaranda Tree
~Here's the wisdom shared with me... by the Jacaranda Tree~
A friend of the wind...
I sway and I bend...
I'm the fifth season...
A poem without end...
Equatorial...
The oldest of new...
Blue Jacaranda...
More lilac than blue...
The rain forests, rich...
With hills of deep green...
I'm far and I'm near...
I'm here in-between...
The loud, silent voice...
Both heard and unheard...
The whispery shouts...
The unspoken word...
My flaws are perfect...
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poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Down at the Walmart Parking Lot!
You do not hold what I hold dear,
And when I told you what I fear,
You laughed and said... 'That's mighty strange! ...
Just have a beer... This world won't change...
What will we care? ... once dead and gone?
You know it's all just overblown...
Global warming and world war three...
What worries you don't worry me! '
Still glad I put this in your ear...
We do not hold the same things dear!
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poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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The Macaroni Necklace
Lynzie Anne Mc Kenzie was a very creative girl,
She made a macaroni necklace for her teacher Mrs. Pearl.
'It's the dumbest gift I've seen! ' Laughed little Tony Maloney,
'Nobody wants a necklace made from macaroni! '
'Stupider than Jupiter' said Tony with a smirk.
But Lynzie just ignored him cause she knew he was a jerk.
Oh Mrs. Pearl just loved it and she wore it every day,
Then she bought a matching bracelet and earrings in late May.
Soon people came from miles around to buy what Lynzie made,
'A fashion craze invented by a girl in the first grade! '
She sold three to Oprah and after the show was done,
She sold one to Madonna to wear on VH1.
She sold a broach to The Queen and a pendant to Vanna White,
Who wore it as she waved and smiled on TV every night.
From Timbuktu to Waterloo from what I understand...
Folks bought oodles of her noodles, her work was in DEMAND!
Featured on the shopping channel they sold out the first day.
Lynzie Mc Kenzie started a frenzy; what else can I say?
'Stupider than Jupiter, ' Tony's words were dumb and reckless,
But Lynzie had the last laugh with her macaroni necklace!
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poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Storm Child
Catholic candles, dripping wax,
In the attic: One strong axe.
Nana Rose was very wise...
'Keep for when the waters rise! '
On a rooftop, your first breath,
Brought our city back from death.
Never once did you dare cry,
Siren screams... your lullaby.
In the streets below we saw,
Drowning ghosts of Mardi Gras.
We prayed for HELP... you just smiled...
You are the sacred Storm Child!
Christened by the August rain,
Born amidst the hurricane,
(Her name need not be spoken,
Too many hearts were broken)
Chopper rope: Hey grab ahold...
Baby girl just hours old,
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poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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I Rember The Day Before I Was Born
BEFORE:
(September 16,1982)
I remember the day before I was born...
The sand castles and azure skies,
I watched with wide impatient eyes.
I yearned to lie in seaside grass,
Blue-green days where lovers pass.
Envying waves that touched the shore,
I wanted all the LIFE in store...
Palmettos swayed and seagulls praised the morn.
I remember the day before I was born!
I was one with rain and waterfall,
With canyon echoes and redwoods tall,
The moon and sun in celebration...
September birds in V formation.
Gazing upon the Earth below...
So much to feel, so much to know.
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poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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My Dream: A Vision of Peace
Where the mountains touch the sky,
Where poets DREAM, where eagles fly,
A secret place above the crowd,
Just beneath a silver-lined cloud.
Lift your eyes to a snowy peak,
And see the soon-to-be we seek.
Whisper DREAMS and let them rise,
To the mountains old and wise.
Climbers climb, it's time to try,
Where the mountains touch the sky.
Take me there. Oh take me now,
Someway, Someday, Somewhere, Somehow.
Where the ocean meets the sky,
Where mermaid dance, where seagulls fly,
A place in DREAMS I know so well,
The sea inside a single shell.
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poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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The Holy Roller
-Copyrighted & registed 2008 ASCAP Music/Austin-Tatious Music-(Preach-2-the-Preachers Ministries)
Dedicated to those who worship the numbers, money, influence, affluence, and holier-than-thou pragmatism that modern churches & mega-churches have eroded to.
The Holy Roller
Hey Holy-Roller, you're just too funny;
How you give that church, mountains of money.
Preacher gets money, lives high on the hog;
Feeds Filet Mignon, to his weenie-dog!
Church says 'Good Holy, gets stars in his crown; '
But, he still ignores, the homeless downtown!
He knows that bible, quotes it all the time,
Church grows richer but, they can't spare a dime!
Church got pearly gate, and a golden street,
Children face winter, in their cold, bare-feet.
Preacher's new Hummer, is So-Very-Fine,
Bag-Lady stands in, the soup-kitchen line.
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poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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