What The Shoe Spoke


That lady threw a shoe, at you
but we wanted it to be a hatchet.
She got to throw a shoe at you;
and the rest of us wish we could match it.

You deserve much more Hillary.
That’s what she was trying to show to you.
Should have been a pair Hillary.
Hoping karma’s not ‘out done’ by a shoe.

Close to forty years Hillary.
You have tried to both rule and destroy us.
Pay-day’s way past due, Hillary.
Just reward for all of your corrupt-ness.



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faded glory

Oh remember, America’s greatness
‘fore these sad, and appalling times.
Those who recall, the pride of the nation
‘fore elected, masters of crimes.

There’s no time, to give into tyranny,
none for weeping for the past times.
Let us stir the blood, that flows in our veins,
by the sound; of Liberty’s chimes.

 Look who we came from; a vast legacy
none cowards, to Kings they’d not bow.
They look upon us, their sons and daughters,
to speak,” These crimes we; disallow.”

Enough blaming, and pointing to other’s
enough lies, claimed innocence.
Saying they serve us, they serve but themselves,
no penance, from a seared conscience.

Time for the common man’s voice, to be heard,
bring peace to chaos; of today.
To lead from our midst, as in day’s of yore,
plain speech, common sense led the way.

Yes remember America’s glory,
she led out of her servant’s heart.
For she still deserves all; our allegiance,
and watch o’er, the battles rampart.


[last verse of the Star-spangled Banner]

O! thus be it ever when free men shall stand
between their loved homes and the foe’s desolation;
Bless’d with victory and peace, may our heaven rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation
Then conquer we must, for our cause is just
And this be our motto ” In God is our trust!”

And the Star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.


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Jolly’s Race


 The Recent Race

The recent race in Florida’s,
a taste of things to come.
If we keep our eyes on the ball
and Democrat foursome.

Obama, Reid, Pelosi and
Billary must succumb.
For common sense to rule again
might need exorcism.

Must watch the grave yards and the polls
the dead are meddlesome.
If we make picture I.D.’s law
no more votes; postmortem.

When cool-aid pushers are all gone
we’ll rid delirium.
The recent race in Florida’s,
a taste of things to come.



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Peeping Tom

window picture

 Peeping Tom

I looked out my window to see
someone was staring back at me
Grabbed my robe while closing the blind
still no privacy could I find.

There on the phone and my p.c.
peeping Tom’s opportunity,
to know my business, day-to-day
each thought I have; and word I say.

Tom try’s to say it’s for my good,
for my defence, it’s understood.
He say’s stop acting paranoid,
for my own good Tom’s been employed.

Beg to differ, if I still may
don’t want my business on display.
Send a drone to my property,
to shoot it down seems fair to me.

Tarred and feathered, was at one time;
punishment for Peeping Tom’s crime.
Let’s revive it, what do you say?
Let’s stop that peeping N.S.A.

        c.d.m. 3/8/14


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Mr President


  Mr. President

Sounds like Rodney Dangerfield,
not a beloved President.
Complains of getting no respect
in one most recent tangent.

There is no substance to your words,
and there’s much less to your back.
So when you speak; no one gives heed
due to incompetent lack.

Lack of what you ask? I will say
of character, strength and more,
like honesty and common sense.
Seems this nation you abhor.

Else why the lies and cover-ups
the military cut backs.
You will not listen to our voice.
No amnesty for wet-backs.

‘Not a smidgen’ you have decried
no truth in allegations.
‘We’ shake ‘our’ heads in unbelief
why should not other nations?

You’ve failed your race; you’ve failed us all
the one thing you stand fast in.
Please just follow Nixon’s lead,
else America’s a has been.

           c.d.m. 3/2/14


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Get Harry


I will now share the saga
of old Harry Reid.
Who delighted in making
America bleed.

He stood on the Senate floor
and said ‘we’ have lied.
As Nancy and Democrats
also have implied.

While Boehner has stood weeping
at the mean remark.
The Obama’s have flown off
on another lark.

The Senate was rolling like
an old dog in carne,*
and nodding in agreement
to old Harry’s yarn.

Uncle Sam bowed his head spoke,
” Enough is enough,
the Tea Party must rise up
and call Harry’s bluff,

Root out the Progressives and
the RINO’S alike,
send all of them packing down
DC’s old turnpike.

Then gather the Eagles with
a heart for the land,
to come take back the reins for
united we’ll stand.

     c.d.m. 3/3/14

*carne=’s a dead animal


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We were young and gave no thought to
anymore than the day,
to life or death, sickness or health
simply lived, come what may.

Believed ourselves invincible
while in the blush of youth.
Until tomorrows ravaged us
with evidence and truth.

Quite suddenly the signs appear
of immortality.
They come in from your blind side, just
appearing glaringly.

Then as those before us, we must
except what fate demands.
To realize we all grow old
and trust we’re in God’s hands.

c.d.m. 2/18/2014


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4 Brave Americans

faded glory

Was Ambassador Stevens Democrat
or was he a Republican?
Well it matters not in the least to me;
for he was an American.

It’s a painful boil within my heart
a sad grieving upon my soul.
That my country just looked the other way
while our enemy reached their goal.

A goal to humiliate this strong land
and to rub some shame in our face.
To show us there’s no one beyond their reach
they think us an infidel race.

The media mocks the cries for answers
call it ploys of Republicans.
despite the party of Benghazi’s four
they were four brave Americans.



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We did not see until; too late.
We would not heed the call.
We thought ourselves Americans.
With one heart one and all.

So with sad heart we must report,
it now is plain to see;
our gracious land is over run,
by a rank enemy.

This enemy does not comply,
at all with common heart,
of those who fight for freedom’s voice
as they have from the start.

No this foe will divide us and
sow upstarts in our place,
so as to tear down Liberty
and mock her to her face.

Then to declare themselves the friend
of the down trodden man.
The only source of answers to
the woe’s of common man.

If we had seen, if we had heard,
before it was too late,
perhaps we could have saved the day
and changed our nations fate.

                                                                              c.d.m. 2/18/2014


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The Canvas

canvasI looked upon the canvas blank
my heart leapt ‘neath my breast.
I lift my palette of mixed hues
my brush tip I caressed.

I pondered ore the empty span
drew plans out in my heart.
I drew the brush across the plane
my vision fell apart.

How does one reach from mind to hand;
to express hearts desire.
How do you meld the two as one
‘fore vision does expire.

Oh failure is a bitter pill
when dreams do fall apart.
For eyes grow dim and hands grow weak
from emptiness of heart.

What’s left when dreams have fled the soul
and emptiness remains?
Except to bid this life farewell
and slip this sad life’s chains.



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Bloody Hill


 Bloody Hill

Old Bloody ‘Hill’, in a voice very shrill
screamed out,”What difference does it make?”
Now shares the regrets of her and dear Bill;
say’s Benghazi’s a hard one to shake.

How could we ever believe this sincere,
and not just a move for her career?
She managed to stand in the Rose Garden,
to co-sign the lies of the henchman.

She’ll paint up her lips, and brighten her eyes
and come out in a youthful disguise.
Perhaps shed a tear, so as to endear
herself for what is, her grand premier.

Madame, we think you have done quite enough,
for you have destroyed all that you touch.
True American’s now will call your bluff,
forgive Benghazi? You ask too much.

         c.d.m. 1/28/14


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Cheryl pics 170

Madame for the outcome of Benghazi
you ” take responsibility.”
I wish you would take the time to explain
what those words really mean to me.

Does it mean you failed to answer the calls
sent often from that far off place?
Then stood by and sent another to lie
for the President to save face?

What promise did you receive for your part
in that horrible act of shame?
How do you gaze in the mirror without
ever feeling this deep disdain;

of the many people who feel you failed
the office we trusted you to?
We shall always remember Benghazi
every time that we think of you.

We all come to the end of life Madame
to stand before God Almighty.
I pray you’ll have reconciled with Him then
and repented for Benghazi.

           c.d.m. 1/22/14


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The Flower Child


           Sad ideal’s of a generation past
fluttering through my thoughts today.
Those long gone sixties seemed to pass so fast.
Memories of my yesterday.

         Graffiti made of peace signs, everywhere,
and covering our garments too.
The older crowd would often turn and stare,
as hippie vans were passing through.

Flowers in the hair, and upon the face,
marked us as the flower children.
We longed to touch and change the human race,
honestly thought change had begun.

Spoke of free-love and of ending the wars,
lived a dream of simplicity.
Melodies strummed softly on old guitars,
leading our songs in harmony.

Well time has passed and we all have grown old,
forgetting those sweet melodies.
Our innocent ideals it seems we’ve sold,
and settled for a life of ease.

            c.d.m.  1/22/2014



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Inspector Clue-less [ Is he? ]


Inspector Clue-less [ Is he? ]

Other nations describe our ‘Leader,’
as ‘clue-less’; I wonder ’bout that.
Could anyone be so ignorant?
Or does he pretend the ‘ding-bat’?

I doubt he could graduate Harvard,
with the little wisdom he’s shown.
How he was elected the first time,
is a mystery yet unknown.

I think he knows how to play opossum.
Pretending the part of Clouseau.
He has a further agenda and
eventually we shall all know.

His plan is to be a World Ruler,
oh but not just in name only.
Like Nero, and young Napoleon
a World Ruler’s what he must be.

So don’t close your eyes nor turn your head;
presuming him clue-less or dim.
Cause that’s when a opossum makes his move,
so we best keep our eyes on him.

                 c.d.m. 1/18/14


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American Shame


Shame upon us America
we have looked the other way.
Refused to see or hear the truth;
believing what liars say.

Had it been our’s left there to die;
then perhaps we may have cared.
Those lost patriots families
painful grief we would have shared.

We just watched, our favorite shows
those so-called realities.
Ignoring those few speaking of
Benghazi’s atrocities.

Now the truth is coming out for;
all America to see.
Will we go watch some more TV
or wage war for Benghazi?

          c.d.m. 1/15/14


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The Tale of the Mountain Healer

Mountain Healer

Rose Ella,

At one time in the mountains of fair West Virginia
the people lived happy and free.
They prided themselves in their independence
and natural abilities.

These people had ventured from far away shores
from Scotland, and Ireland, and Wales.
Remembered their homelands in the words of sweet ballads
entertaining each other with tales.

Life was not easy as you may surmise
they lived off the wealth of the land
Why any would choose, to live in those mountains
town’s people could not understand.

Up in those hills there lived a young beauty
by the name of Rose Ella McNye.
A sprite of a girl, with flaming red hair
and eyes like a blue summer sky.

Rose Ella had never had schoolin but she’d
learned at her grandma’s knee.
What you could reap from the mountains and valleys
and make into home remedy’s.

Many’s the time folk knocked at her door
seeking help for an ailing loved one.
She’d gather her bags of herbs and dried yarbs*
and off  thru the woods she would run.

The day came when she met her a suitor
by the name of Newt Matheny.
Folks warned her,” Rose Ella don’t court him,
he comes from a bad family.”

Rose Ella disregarded the warnings
they married and started a clan.
After 3 or 4 children she realized;
she’d married a traveling man.

Rose Ella saw to the farmin
did her doctorin with babies in tow.
Newt stuck to the drinkin and makin of moonshine.
when he felt like it he’d up and go.

During one of his many adventures;
some one knocked, on Rose Ella’s door.
She went to help while her babies were sleeping
never dreaming of what lay in store.

As she returned about sunrise
fear gripped her heart at the sight;
of her cabin ablaze to the roof peak;
two babies were lost in the night.

A week or so later when Newt sobered up
he learned of the loss they had shared.
Ran back to Rose Ella who sat in a daze
with streaks of white all through her hair.

Rose Ella regained most her senses
so her three babes left she could tend.
She and Newt never more shared the same bed.
Some ailments you just cannot mend.

 the true story of my great-grandma ,             c.d.m. 3/09

*yarbs are wild roots and leaves, as opposed to those raised in gardens



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The Little Church

Jesus saves

He walked towards town from the highway
at the corner  set his backpack down.
He searched up and down the Main Street
with  sad heart here’s what he found.
An empty lot garbage and weeds;
a sign welcoming people to town.
The place he’d sought help so many times
was demolished; and torn down.
He ambled across Mulberry Street
slowly entered the Police Station.
Most times he tried to avoid that place
but he needed some information.
” Where ever did that ‘ little church’ go?
It once sat in the center of town
I use to go there and they’d feed me.
T’ was the only ‘soup kitchen’ around.”
A van pulled off  highway thirty-three.
Drove by where the church had  been.
The driver spoke to a store owner,
” Excuse me can you help me my friend?
Tell me where did that ‘little church’ go?
It use to be down on East Main Street.
I had five babies and they helped me
that small congregation was sweet.”
That ‘ little church ‘ tho small and shabby
was filled up with God’s sweet love and light.
It prayed for and covered this city
with the wing’s of God’s angels in flight.
A place for those tired and weary
those in need of a helping hand.
The world needs a thousand such churches
to just spring up and cover our land.

Where did that ‘ little church ‘ go?

c.d.m. 5-17-11


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A Passing Train

train 3

Last night from bed I heard the sound,
a passing train.
Another soothing sound I’ve found,
is falling rain.
If when I pursue fleeing sleep,
I could record these sounds to keep,
I’d fall to sleep, and hear again,
a passing train.
Or rain upon the rooftop pound,
a sweet refrain.
But ‘Hubbies’ voice would then abound,
he would complain.
See opposites they do attract.
For he and I could prove this fact.
So on my iPod, I’ll retain,
a passing train.

c.d.m. 2011

Octogram poem style created by Ms. Sally Yokum of Fanstory
Rhyme scheme: a B a b c c b B,a b a b d d b B
Capital B designates repeated lines.
Syllable counts 8 4 8 4 8 8 8 4 in each of two stanzas.

train 1


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Go Away Snow,A Prayer

winter frost

From the North, to the South,
and the East, to the West,
Nasty Old Man Winter,
has tried his very best.

To blanket us over
with cold, wet snow.
To cause giant ice-sickles
to grow and grow.

To bury us alive
in layers of white.
And create icy roadways
to give us all a fright.

Even the children
now say, ” It’s ENOUGH !”
They are tired of chapped lips
and cheek’s red and rough.

Who wants to go on looking
like that fat Michelin Man?
We are tired of this snow
we’ve stood all we can stand!

So now with one objective
and in one accord;
In the name of our Lord…


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The Nest

Albert the Squirrel

Alberta the Squirrel had a very fine nest.
In a crook in a Maple tree; high it did rest.
She had a mate named William, she called Billy Boy.
He was her life partner, and he brought her heart joy.

They fashioned their nest all safe, snug, and warm.
Tended it well so it could weather a storm.
Each spring they would add soft layers anew.
In preparation for the birth of a baby or two.

One morning the sky turned ominous and gray.
The wind’s picked up and the tree’s began to sway.
As lightning flashed they heard a terrible sound.
The earth seemed to shake as their home tumbled down.

They crawled out of the rubble breathed a sigh of relief.
As they looked all about them in utter disbelief.
Grateful they’d survived at first they were glad.
As they surveyed the landscape their hearts became sad.

All they had worked for in a moment disappeared.
It seemed it was exactly as they had always feared.
Billy looked at Alberta in complete dismay,
“What shall we do now?” is all he could say.

Alberta looked up with a tear in her eye,
spoke” I haven’t the heart to even give it a try.”
Rustling in the leaves broke the silence all around.
They heard their friends voice’s such a beautiful sound.

There was Rabbit, and Squirrel, the Birds, and old Coon.
Saying” We’re here to build; if by the light of the moon.
We know it is the season to birth your little one.
We’re here to lend a hand until the work is all done.”

 ‘Moral’ of this story;”All things come to an end.’
One thing lasts forever the love of a friend.
So don’t build your nest out of money or clay.
Build upon true friendships, build, love, and pray.

                  c.d.m. 4-4-11


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One Life


One Life

I’ve only one life, to live or give
only one life, and that’s all.
Only one life to spend as I will
one life to answer the call.

 At sunrise I must decide which way
to spend the hours of each.
To waste it upon me and myself
or sacrifice for out-reach.

Sad to say the balance tips somewhat
in fluttering time away;
but I make a choice to change it now,
and the change begins today.

     c.d.m.  1/1/14


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Quick Change


Esther Sue she’s the ‘want to be Jew’
not happy with being herself.
Fifty odd years she was called Jean till
she put her old name on a shelf.

Tell me how does one change from Christian,
then decide ‘now I’ll be a Jew?’
It really escapes understanding
at least with me, how about you?

First she quit eating her bacon then
she acted like we should quit too.
Said we all called G_D by the wrong name
and we needed to learn Hebrew.

We worshipped the Lord on the wrong day
and needed to learn to make myrrh.
Guess nothing was right in our worship
at least not according to her.

The thing that amazes me most is
how Christians have lasted this long.
Also why she now seems so bitter
if her Judaism’s so strong.



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chi-town2Chaos and calamity
that’s what it is to me.
Headline news keeps talking of
Obama-care; does he?

Has it ever crossed his mind;
what all he has fouled up?
Has his plan been from the start
the health plan of Europe?

Well if you haven’t heard it yet,
their plan’s not working great.
Need to turn our ship about,
before we share their fate.

What part of ‘ We the People,’
can you not understand?
This is still America,
and not Chi-towns gangland.

Go home Sir, before you destroy us.

c.d.m. 12/26/13


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A Tale of Christmas Eve, by a friend

T’christmas decorations

T’was Christmas eve with no snow on the way
Grandma and Grandpa had called it a day.
There was he in his boxers and her in a gown
they’d turned off the TV and went to lay down.

When out in the driveway they heard a loud clatter;
doors slamming and lots of voices in chatter.
Looked from window to cold ground below,
to see their children with grandkids in tow.

Gramps rushed to the door ‘fore they tried old keys,
from a long-lost time when they were kiddies.
“Surprise they shouted while coming in view;
our presence’s our Christmas present to you.”

Go to Facebook and your eyes will behold
Grandma and Grandpa looking tired and old.
In gowns, no make-up, no teeth, messy hair
please delete that finger that’s up in the air.

                                                                          Connie J. VanMatre 12/24/13


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Home for Christmas


No home to go to for Christmas,
more than just the homeless can tout.
There’s other’s alone on Christmas;
so that’s what this short poem’s about.

Many my age do get lonely
especially at this time of year.
As children grow-up and marry
and parents must move to the rear.

I made those choices long ago.
That’s when I decided to stay;
at home with my kids for Christmas.
So kids with the new toys could play.

Now years later, too late I fear;
I think that I made a mistake.
I should have went home for Christmas.
Home’s one place we should not forsake.

Now there is no ‘ home’ to go to,
for mother and dad have passed on.
Sadly I taught my own children;
and my chance to go home is gone.

            c.d.m.  12/ 24/13


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Too Busy



Can I call you back in five minutes
she said on that day to her friend.
Rushing along to complete her chores
not knowing her friend’s life would end.
Running each day we continue on
too busy; too busy we cry.
Cramming too much into one lifetime;
while we never once question why.
We buy and give; but not of ourselves;
then wonder why we feel lonely.
I’d much rather have you sit a while;
and perhaps share some time with me.

        c.d.m. 12/20/13

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Posted by on December 20, 2013 in life stories, open door, Writing


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Open Eyes


If only your eyes could be opened
and clearly be able to see.
If you could hear someone telling you;
and if that someone was not me.

Then maybe you’d start to believe that
the things I have told you are true.
To believe just half of what you see;
and less of what’s spoken to you.

I’d not tell a child,”Don’t listen,
to the words of Mother or Dad.”
From experience learn and listen
for their wisdom is ironclad.

Yet sometimes you can expand the list;
of those ones you should harken to.
If someone says, ‘ you can’t trust Grandma,’
dear one they are lying to you.

  c.d.m. 12/20/13


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Believe in Santa




What’s wrong with believing in Santa Clause?
Or other sweet dreams of childhood?
I think if more grown-ups still held out hope;
for all of us it would be good.

There’s so much that’s harsh in this big old world;
dear Santa might soften things up.
Beginning with hearts that wrote Santa off;
when children turned into grown-ups.

See old hearts don’t shine with the Christmas light;
at least not like young hearts shine through.
I think grown-ups should believe in Santa,
may brighten us up if we do.




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‘Lady Killers’ and Ode to the ‘Fat Word’


Ever notice in the movies
that someone has got to die.
We have just come to expect it
we don’t even question ‘ why?’

At one time it was the bad girl,
who’d die in every show.
Sometimes she’d sacrifice her life,
but she always had to go.

Then it always was the good girl,
she would be the one to die.
On each episode of TV
by the end she’d say good-bye.

Now it is kind of personal
well at least it is to me.
Cause now the first to die it seems
are those who they call ‘portly’.

Yeah now it is the fat girl that’s
becoming the stalkers prey.
Who knows which way the winds will blow;
may be your type next they’ll slay.

           c.d.m. 12/17/13

Ode to the ‘ Fat Word ‘

It use to be that when I was in school
to just say the ‘ fat word’  wasn’t to cool.
If you said ‘it’ a note would then be sent
to parents because you’d made the comment.

These days the ‘fat word’ in school is allowed,
notes scold the parents for a hefty child.
Class’ for parents whose kid weighs too much,
class’ for kids to teach the cause of such.

Skinny people want more space on a plane.
So airlines decided to join the game.
Charging the ‘fat ones’ for two seats to stay
back with the handicapped; out-of-the-way.

When I turned forty I gained a few pounds.
My flat chest protruded; bottom got round.
At fifty they both grew out even more.
Had fat in places I’d never before.

With fat comes the comments that never ends.
Family, Doctors and my skinny friends
all tell me to practice healthy habits.
I smile and say your all ‘ fat ‘ bigots.

      Connie.Jean.VanMatra   12/17/13


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Orders in the military
are, ” Leave no man behind.”
Not in today’s society
such heart is hard to find.

Think of Libya if you would;
Benghazi point of fact.
When four brave men were left behind
our leaders failed to act.

One who thinks to lead us next was
then second in command.
Quipped, “What difference does it make?”
She didn’t understand.

There’s some who yet hold to the charge
to “Leave no man behind.”
Some in service, some are not; still
American hearts entwined.

We beg to differ, while we may;
it matters Ma’am, to some.
One man left on the battle-field
begs,” What have we become?”

Who commandeered our nations soul,
and left us in this state?
That most forget, four left behind
not questioning their fate.

We won’t forget; we take the vow
to “Leave no man behind.”
To stand and speak, and hold the course
till hearts are re-aligned.

     c.d.m. 12/16/13


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The Mouse Brigade

just for you

The long night of the mouse brigade;
friend do you ever recall?
How over run my house had become;
when creatures ran up the wall.
We sat at the table reading
our bibles with pure delight.
Me with my feet up on the chair,
those mice could be such a fright.
Then suddenly it struck you,” Hey
there’s power in Jesus name!”
We commanded those mice to flee!
Their response made us exclaim!
Glory to God in the highest;
the Word, His power displayed.
All creation’s subject to Him,
as viewed in this mouse brigade.
Clamoring out by the window,
they ran, it was such a sight.
Prayed in the name of Jesus and
the mice all ran off that night.
What’s become of those two young girls
depending on Jesus’ aide?
Who laughed and beheld one dark night
the flight of the mouse brigade.


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tuesday-early July 165

As unsettled as water;
and changing as quick.
Amazing how you shift an
alliance so slick.

Someday you’ll awaken to
find it is too late.
When those you have left; leave you
as a reprobate.

When your ‘new found friends’ run and;
leave you in the dust.
Then stand and look back with a
sense of raw disgust.

Water seeks its own level;
it’s ebbs rise and fall.
You’ll soon tire of that puddle
you’re water; that’s all.

   c.d.m. 12/13/13


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Jesus saves

Mindless lemmings; are everywhere.
Try as I might I have to stare.
Talk about lambs to the slaughter.
They are poisoned by their fodder.

Pointing out how wise they may be.
They stumble as they march blindly.
Right off the cliff into the pit.
As they boast about their sharp wit.

Roll out copied layers of shtick.
If not so false; would be comic.
Some say ‘oy vey’ it’s not so bad.
Your chutzpah is far more than sad.

   c.d.m.  12/7/13


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What is to Come


My heart is weighed heavy and deeply sad;
for what was, what is, and what is to come.
When all’s said and done, at the end of days;
as we stand in faith, for tally and sum.

That Road less traveled, to simple for most;
mocked at, spit on and ridiculed by some.
Yet but for that Road, we’d be mired in sin;
for what was, what is, and what is to come.

Spoke, ‘ I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Light.
And the door to God’s eternal Kingdom.’
He wept for the lost of Jerusalem;
for what was, what is, and what is to come.

                    c.d.m          11/30/13

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Posted by on December 8, 2013 in angels, darkness, ohio poets, Society, Writing


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To Be or Not To Be

dec.13 123

An inconsequential life;
lived out in deep regret.
What could change the circumstance;
about which now I fret.

What difference could be made
if I in time went back?
What changes would I then make;
to fill what I now lack?

Friendships that evaporate,
as tho they never were.
Covenants now lay broken;
and vows are now a slur.

A world where nothing matters;
lest money is involved.
Where oaths of deep devotion
are easily dissolved.

Such emptiness for most men
would break the heart indeed.
I guess I’m not as most men;
for consequence I’ll plead.

                                                    c.d.m. 12/7/13

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Posted by on December 7, 2013 in life stories, ohio poets, open door, Society, Writing


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Too Many Eggs


Too many eggs in one basket.
Words repeated over the years.
Too late I heard of the message.
It’s sadly caused me many tears.
You filled all the space of my heart.
Where family and others should be.
Too many eggs in one basket.
That is what you’ve become to me.
Now tho it’s come to my Savior.
Well that is the end of the line.
You can’t over-fill this basket.
My heart is the Savior’s; not mine.
c.d.m. 12/3/13


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The Parting



If you’d turn your back on Jesus;
there’s nothing you wouldn’t do.
Tell me what there is to say;
anymore between us two?

Darkness finds no place in the Light.
Light will darkness swallow up.
You turned your back upon the Light;
with darkness you now must sup.

When darkness now encroaches on you;
and all that is of you.
Tell me what it is you think that;
you and yours can ever do?

There is no One to call upon;
you’ve denied Him after all.
Sadly friend there will be no-one;
now upon which you can call.

c.d.m. 12/4/13


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Who is Wise?


Thinking ourselves wise; we became as fools.
Counting all others as such.
Regarded mass knowledge  as salvation.
Concerning pride; filled with much.

Twist, chop, and finagle their Covenant,
claiming they mis-interpret.
For if there is a ‘ new,’ oh what to do;
our traditions we’d forfeit.

This has gone on so long; now we tire
of our own senseless prattle.
We must prove them wrong, we must prove them wrong,
so on and on we babble.

Endless arguing and twisting of words;
we’ve used to kill other’s faith.
Defying their belief in the scriptures;
calling their Savior a wraith.

But lo and behold the Day has now come;
sadly we learn we were wrong.
Those we counted foolish are rejoicing;
singing their Redeemer’s song.

c.d.m. 12/2/13


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Notes from Life


 Ever notice wealthy people
keep their teeth into old age.
The way an avid reader licks
a finger then turns a page.

Toddlers habit of twisting hair,
while nursing on; their ‘ Bobbie.’
Schooling and social position
cause’s some to seem ‘ snobby.’

Have you watched people; turn their eyes
away from all those in need?
Or noted those who; ‘ could care less’
and yet somehow still succeed?

They speak as tho; they really care
putting on a great charade.
True compassion; will cause action
works not words will be displayed.

You quip,” Where are you coming from,
what is it you want to say?”
That true; heart-felt; compassion will
cause us to do more than pray.



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The Internet

my pics 015

It was the same old fight at the McAfee’s place
between mother and daughter that day.
Start’s out, ” It’s time to get off of that thing”
and get out in the real world to play.”

Megan roll’s her big blue eyes
click’s off the p.c. and sigh’s.
Mother gives a tender look
shoves her bangs out of her eyes.

She said “I kinda grew-up on the internet.”
Megan gave her a very strange look.
“It’s true” she declares, “I’ll explain it to you.”
By then Megan was on the hook.

“In my day we ‘networked’ on the telephone
we had a twenty party; phone line.
Each house had an individual ring tone
two longs and a short was mine.

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out
just which ring belonged to who.
So listening in on other folks phone calls
always gave us something to do.

There were no secrets in those days
everyone was listening in.
Just the same as it is today with
you and your Facepage friends.

Time march’s on and I soon realized,
I was squandering a lot of mine.
Sitting on your grandma’s,’Gossip bench’
listening in on the ‘party line.’

I’d almost forgotten how fun it was
to go out with my friends and see a show.
I made up my mind, to stop listening in
to get up; to get out and to go.

Well nothing is new under the sun.
All’s been said or done over time.
That’s how I grew-up on the ‘Internet’
of that old twenty party; phone line.

So don’t let yourself get lost in that web.
There’s a world out there passing by.
Go ‘reach out and touch’; someone for real
just get up and get out; give it a try.”

 c.d.m. 2011


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The Twisting


I watched as a slender spider web
was  being twisted on the wind.
Seeing the stark similarities
to what is twisting so many friends.

Blown about by the many word’s
of a new-fangled brainiac.
They skillfully spin a web of deceit
from the heart of the old Maniac.

I listen as they twist  truth
to fit the latest deception from hell.
To convince and ensnare the mass’
to take them to hell as well.

We were warned he can appear to us
even as an ‘angel of light’.
Told, for the Truth once delivered
to earnestly contend. [ that means fight ]

They pitifully mock the Religious
[that means those who will not agree. ]
If religious means; discerning the truth
then I’ll gladly Religious be.

Think of this; if I’m wrong no big deal
you say there’s no hell to go to.
If I’m right; and you deceive the mass’,
where friend; will that leave you?

         c.d.m. 2010


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The Warning

my pics 003

You shoot em when you see
the white of their eyes.
Check sex and their color
under morning skies.
Been pushed about as far
as I’m willing’ to go.
Someone ought to tell em;
maybe let em know.

They think we sit here
in the country unaware
of the crazy ideas
going round out there.
Country; don’t mean stupid
get that in your head.
Because them that won’t hear
just might end up dead.

I hear it in the voices
of people all around.
Tired of the moaning
and the rumbling sound.
Of those you can not fill up;
who are not satisfied.
Till they get all they can get
from the well supplied.

Want to take from those who have
to give to those who have not.
There’s something Mr. Obama;
maybe you’ve forgot.
For one to give or not to give;
it’s a matter of choice.
Not a forced situation;
driven by the left-wing voice.

The leadership that’s coming
out of Washington D C.
Sounds more like the dogma
of the socialist party.
I’m just repeating what I hear
coming from these parts.
We won’t take it lying down;
heads-up before it starts.

    c.d.m.  2013


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How does one deal with hysteria?
Seems it’s such a touchy area.
In the vortex of the cerebra.
There plays out a vivid cinema.
Where a tried and true found formula.
Causes upset of the cardia.
Madness displays its cruel agenda.
Destroy mankind with hysteria!
Add to the mix of psychodrama;
drugs that take us to utopia.
Now you see how this melodrama;
plays out as a vicious vendetta.
Get off the train.

       c.d.m. 11/16/13


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How the Flu makes me Feel

2534445971_40d6af0c4e_mA limerick for my family,
who one and all have abandoned me.
Left me to deal with this killer-flu,
my limerick I will share with you;


Because they say I’m contagious;
I find it kind of outrageous.
My children all hide,
Mike’s forsook his bride,
Now I am viewed as officious.

Now they appear to show such concern.
Sending soup; my forgiveness to earn.
Of course that’s after the deed’s been done.
and my simple limerick’s been spun.

c.d.m. 11/ 10 / 13


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Why So Lonely? :(


Something I’ve been hearing a lot of lately, ” I’m so lonely, I can hardly bear it.”    While at the same time, ” I haven’t the energy, to reach out, or to try to communicate my feelings.”

What is the root of this seeming contradiction of, expressions of the heart? I’ve given it some thought and prayer.  I don’t believe I have all the answer, but I do think I’ve attained a partial one.

What happens to your computer when you punch to many buttons? Try to flip from one site to the next, and not give the p.c. enough time?

Well maybe you’ve never been impatient, sadly I have and my p.c. locks up on me.  I’m  not very tech savvy, to say the least. [ I have went through 2 computers and I am now on my third :(  ]

In a day when ‘communications’ are so abundant, T.V. 24/7, phones that not only make us available 24/7, but keep us connected to the net 24/7.  Yet more and more people describe themselves as lonely. It is like an epidemic, I call it shut-down.

I just viewed a commercial on T.V., showing two women cooking Thanksgiving dinner together. In actuality it was a commercial for internet and the ladies were on Skype. I thought, what circumstance has created a situation where, family has to Skype, to share Thanksgiving.

I mean it’s great in ‘ have-to’ cases. Such as one member being stationed half-way around the world due to job or being stationed in the service. Short time circumstance hopefully.

But I shudder to think that many are doing so, simply because it requires so much less effort.  Also avoids any and all ‘uncomfortable’ situations. We all have strange, or different family members. { yes, yes some more than others..} Seldom is there a gathering, when there isn’t at least one uncomfortable moment.
Yet life shared is so beautiful, even with those moments. Notice I said ‘life’, to often we have bought into the ads we’ve viewed, and then looked at our own reality, and felt like we were cheated. I’ve watched so many families turn from sharing life, { in real-time and in person } and instead make a phone call, send an e-mail, or at best Skype.
We are short-changing ourselves, and our children. What are your thoughts, on this generation of lonely communicators?  Leave a comment, maybe we can find a solution.

Have a Blessed and hopefully shared Thanksgiving !


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A Feather on the Wind


Just like a feather on the wind;
falling so softly to the ground.
With no control; at natures whim
a falling feather makes no sound.

There is no one to hear my cry,
if I should ever offer one.
To the wind’s will, I must comply,
until this free-fall journey’s done.

Just like a feather on the wind;
my form is drifting high and low.
And yet I know this too shall end,
when this harsh wind does cease to blow.

    c.d.m. 11/9/13


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Her Darling Boy

my pics 005

I gaze at the picture and I see;
that he was her darling boy.
At first it seemed very sad to me;
but then I see signs of joy.

She watched him walk to school the first day;
oh he was her pride and joy.
Came home crying, “The others won’t play.”
She wept for her darling boy.

While most looked past his value or worth;
still she’d seen it from the start.
For right from the moment of his birth;
he’d taken over her heart.

Others were born and each had their place;
but he was her darling boy.
There in the picture; see on her face
just how he brought her such joy.

He only let Mama down one time;
when he died at sixty-two.
She still sets his place at dinnertime;
some habits you can’t undo.

She’ll gaze at his picture and you’ll see;
she miss’ her darling boy.
Wishing that with him she could yet be;
he still is her pride and joy.

c.d.m. 10/29/13


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Pitiful, Petulant, Pouting Pete [ his own story ]

Little petulant pouting Pete;
he was use to having his way.
Accustomed to others waiting,
to hear whatever he would say.
His Grannie had tried to tell him,
you must stop; sticking your lip out.
Pete, you look just like a baby,
when you start to whimper and pout.
Pete rose to the heights of power.
Proclaiming he’d serve everyone.
Yet all were dis-appointed when,
Pete’s self-serving race had been won.
Thought of as; the bright shining boy.
A glimmer of hope to them all.
He was who they had awaited.
He had come to answer the call.
Ladies would swoon and men would cry,
every time they’d hear him speak.
They thought he was the Messiah,
till they learned that he was so weak.
Everything he attempted fell;
apart before their very eyes.
Excuses grew hard to think of.
They tired of pouting Pete’s cries.
At last those who’d fought the hardest,
decided to throw the towel in.
Tripped on his lip while departing,
declaring, ” They’ll be back again.”
c.d.m. 10/25/13

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Vanessa, I and the Queen of Sheba

winter frost

Vanessa, I and the Queen of Sheba
we lived in a mystical land.
Vanessa and I proclaimed Karmen Queen
at three she did not understand.

Karmen’s royal throne was a baby crib
she ruled a vast empire.
She ruled as we played; and squandered the days
sometimes she would inquire;

“Can I come out there and play Barbies too;
I tire of being Queen?”
“Nay nay our Queen, you must rule from your throne’’
her citizens could be mean.

We were quite young and we just did not see
we were being unfair.
We’d curtsy and bow say, “You rule from there now.”
we could be quite the pair.

Now that were Grannies; it’s hard to believe
how time sprouts wings it seems.
At times we return to that mystical land
of our Queen of Sheba in dreams.

                        c.d.m. 3/2009


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A Musical Journey.............

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Pictures taken on the Ohio Connetta jean


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