'Eternally Yours'

‘ETERNALLY YOURS’

I think of you most all the time
Your loving twines your soul with mine.
Your raven hair, your moist red lips
The gentle touch of your fingertips

Yours eyes behold a man as I,
In Love with you throughout all time.
In past we’ve met, we’ve loved and died
To be reborn another time.

The crusades did keep us far apart,
Till with new life did we again hold court.
Then off to a new world we did meet again
On a three mast ship beneath cold winds.

On a wagon train west, we met once more
Through the Indian lands still unexplored.
Our souls have loved as we have back when
Again and again always starting as friends.

As in the past I ask you this
A small request, please don’t resist.
To be my bride throughout all time
By saying yes -

Just one more time.


C’91



RK McLean for my bride

"Fade To Black"

‘FADE TO BLACK’
TO ANYONE SITTING ON A BEACH, ANYWHERE

Palms……… sway
As soft warm pacific breezes
kiss lush green fronds
ever so gently.

Piercing upward
through sandy beaches
Monolithic shadows watch,
while pale blue skies fade.

Shades of orangish reds… burst forward
Vibrant yellows struggle
Striving to sustain dominance,
only falling silent near the far horizon.

thin streaks of purple
Race across dimly lit skies…..
As if gently caressing brush strokes
Had lightly grazed this canvas.

Calming waters seemingly turn to polished glass
giving no depth to this silent keeper of secrets
Only reflections of the surrounding beauty……
hauntingly stare back

Shadows reach further and further…. outward
As the day gives way to the coming darkness
Heavenly stars twinkle high above
Yawning, like small children first waking.

While one last beacon of white Blazes
Like a thousand angry suns squinting
Not wanting to let go this day,
With what seems an eternity of defiance.

When suddenly one great flash!
Melting all color momentarily into one
Ending this day …….
to but another faded memory.



C 2000
RK McLean

Why I Write

Not unlike many I grew up small town, I’m not ancient in age by any means but we didn’t have a television until I was almost ten. When my Uncle bought one for my Grandmother. Up till that point it was Star Trek and Lawrence Welk  on occasion at the neighbors house. I wouldn’t say we were poor, but on the farm we did have an outhouse.
My Bug came from my Grandmother. She worked sewing at one of those big sweat shop type places, rows of singer sewing machines filled with woman pumping the peddles and running fabric, I still have pictures of her and those woman. Looking hauntingly overworked and underpaid.
My Grandmothers way of relaxing was sitting in the evening and reading to us children, as we got older she would let us take turns reading. She had shelves of these hardbound readers digest books all in a row with different colored  book spines that would jump out at you with there gold embossed lettering of what they contained.
My favorite books were ones she had kept for years some being handed down from earlier relatives. They were old then and some bindings seemed barely held together, with yellowing pages and vibrant  pictures of some of the scenes be read. Books like ‘Arabian Nights’ and ‘Last of The Mohicans, my personal favorite. I still have these books. Just glancing at them on my shelves I think back to simpler times.
I still love to read and I’ve been writing as far back as I can remember, I am not famous or really have had much published, but it doesn’t seem to matter, not as much as it means to have to write, that’s the bug I guess, I could do without many things and have throughout my life, but writing is not one of them. Anything and everything is my parchment and has been, regardless of material. Writing is a drug. I’m proud to say my drug of choice.
Thanks for listening.

Rob

p.s. My Grandmother is on the far left

"The Cove"

I won't be too political, but if you watch "Whale Wars", or have a soft spot for animals like I do,(wolves) and other creatures of the oceans and land masses, then please watch the documentary: "The Cove". You'll be doing yourself an injustice if you don't. Thank You.


Photo: Killer Whale migration, straights of Alaskan lower eastern straights c

'Distant Songs'

‘Distant Songs’

When under crisp clear skies
    Whispers of distant howls,
Reach ears somewhere in the night.

Their song of life, beginning as one
    Each voice joining another
Until as ONE, a full harmonious chorus
   Only to fade and start anew
     For hours without falter.

Fear not the heard and yet unseen
     And dream a perfect sleep
Guardians they are, to travelers alike
     That follow paths like thee.
And with the dawn, remember their song.

As eyes watch from the trees.


C ‘89  photo: Jack & Aimee c'99
RK McLean

No Sympathy, a response letter

Dear editor; In response to: Drugs are Everyone’s Problem

I agree that there is an epidemic within not only the state of Arizona and the community of Kingman. But within the whole of these United States, this problem is not new but has been amongst the  US for years.
It only morphs between generations as it evolves.
I would agree that the Partnership For A drug free America, as Mrs. Bloom states is a good non-profit organization. But.
As a recovered Drug abuser and alcoholic I tend to disagree that programs are the total answer to the problem. It may be the answer for some but not the mass epidemic we have faced these past fifty years and more of abusing that which allows us to escape.
I am with no organization, I am my own conscious; as an addictive person I did things that I should not of: but I did, that’s between me and my maker.

I went through the programs/court ordered and on my own , been beaten as a vagrant by police, incarcerated ,left to my own devices by friends who didn’t know what to do for me. Not there fault, it was my problem.
Homeless for years, unaccepted, paranoid, filthy, hungry and alone.

I Survived. Sure I’ve battled Heart Disease, Diabetes and other health problems, but I survived my own Hell. You can also.

Firstly if you print this I want every addictive person reading this to ask themselves. IS IT WORTH IT?

Secondly; IF the answer you gave is NO, call anybody and ask for HELP. ITS THAT SIMPLE.

I want those that are in the community, the families of these addictive people to recognize them as fellow members of the community with issue’s that effect US all.

Fix the community one day at a time it will fall into place.

You have nobody Contact ME, I will put my very being in the path of helping. Through this paper, write me.

Tell the community why you deserve a voice.

As for those addicted to prescribed medicines, Parents lock up your cabinets, really.
Doctors are Pharmacies are helping by conducting searches of inadequate data bases.

As for those addicted to anything, young or old, your time is NOW, or just stand by the wayside.


Survivor of my own Hell with No sympathy
 

RK McLean

We Walk With Angels

We Walk With Angels 

I believe that from within myself dwells a spirit

of divine Love and teaching

to heal all the world's sufferings

I believe that Angels

walk among us

everyday - guiding our paths

So we may be better guardians to each other 

better stewards of these lands

that sustain all the body

I believe that because my God loves me unconditionally

I should not fear giving, 

my Love and Faith

unconditionally 

To those I know and know not.

Angels walk amongst us, 

completely in step

that whisper in your ear, 

(the silent voice) you hear. 

Love not only yourselves

but all people completely

When my judgment comes

it is my spirit that is judged

not the house it resides in. 

I am but one child in many

to Love

to show tolerance for,

to be compassionate toward

to show understanding

to respect the life 

for all fellow siblings

Angels walk amongst us

to help guide us

with love, 

To save us from ourselves

They know destiny 

has always been

Our choice, 

Our Freewill

We walk with Angels 

because we our all the same

Everywhere 

And an Angel came forth to guide the flock

silently a whisper

Fear not; for I am the light

follow me and be whole

RK McLean   c 2009