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Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

~ Words For You, Just Ask

Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

Category Archives: Peace

A Power Greater than Covid

26 Friday Feb 2021

Posted by Bill Watkins in Covid, Health, Joy, Love, Peace, Poetic Blog

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Covid, Health, Joy, Love, Peace

Power1

Talk health. The dreary, never-changing tale
Of mortal maladies is worn and stale.
You cannot charm, or interest, or please
By harping on that minor chord, disease.
Say you are well, or all is well with you,
And God shall hear your words and make them true.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What a nightmare to be a Christian Scientist during this time.  I call it a government panic, you might call it a global pandemic; someone talks about people dying, I cling to eternal life.  Faith is the cure to all disease and conceivable woe, in my opinion—but if faith in a higher power is an offensive concept like talking politics at the dinner table, let’s talk about faith in our bodies…

I believe in this amazing body I got at birth.  It’s fully equipped with extras!  An amazing immune system, a brain so I can think for myself what works for my particular path in life… My own personal path to health, to joy, to love—some even still talk of Heaven!  Call it peace of mind, eventually having Faith in more than just your physical body, doing good things and thinking of others before yourself.

Western medicine sells theories as “fact,” that the world and us weren’t created right, so we need to put a mask over it.  Hogwash.  I have never become truly sick while my life was in perfect balance… Exercising, open air living, a good diet, a mix of loving, playing, working—sleeping well.  Of course I haven’t.  Western medicine (doctors) will have you believe during their Virus Panic of 2020/2021 that we should be scared of each other!  We should stay away from each other… We shouldn’t trust the air, it’s bad… Our bodies and immune systems not good enough!

Hogwash.  Horse manure.  Untrue… I don’t buy it!  Western medicine has been selling their snake oil for hundreds of years, going up the skirt of the human bodies for all of life’s answers.  For them and believers in them, the physical is all, the body the key to long life, but I think they define “life” and in fact “health” differently than me.  I know what works for my health because I live with me.  How is a doctor or government going to know more about my health than me?

We have lived through a bad history of “conquest” (land theft), crime justified by a bible, and in that environment of forced civilization enters the often false science of Western medicine and its overpaid, over-trusted doctors.  What was their once-grand solution to fevers and bad physical health?  Blood-letting!  What’s still their number one activity in offices across the West?  Blood-drawing!  “Yes, little Billy, let’s see what’s wrong with you.  Once we find what’s wrong, we’ll prescribe you lots of healthy drugs!”

Drugs and blood-drawing.  Hogwash.  Overpaid doctors with diplomas granted by other doctors, a community of establishing fears and illnesses, then presenting themselves as the great cure… “Will this be cash or credit, Billy?”  Hogwash.  And dangerous… Fear is the most dangerous virus in the world today, the largest religion claiming to have a cure for it being Western medicine.

Allow me, please, to present another one—older, wiser and better:

Faith.  Faith in God.  Faith in a Higher Power, call it what you will.  Faith in Creation, in the sweet air of the country, away from the cities of doctors, hospitals and large bills… Faith in ourselves.  In this amazing body we were born with, in your own health when you make good decisions and live in a balanced fashion.  Leave the cities Rome pitched so violently across Europe, and that Columbus, the Spanish and English forced on Turtle Island, Aztlán, and other parts of formerly beautiful, peaceful land called “America” by egocentric, violent, ethnocentric Europeans.

Reject the Conquest.  Reject the armed theft.  Reject forced civilization, its noise and fake cures!  Keep blood inside your body, say no to Western medicine’s bloodletting and drugs, find your own definition for health and life—a more expansive one that is dreamt of in doctors’ philosophy.  Say no to the Kool-Aide, they’ve spiked it and have been for years!  Water beats beer, a walk in nature beats a doctor visit, and faith in God is the cure you’ve been hoping a mask over your face would bring.

To those addicted to Western medicine and civilization, my words might offend you, and what’s more you might snicker and wish me a related harm, saying: “Oh, just wait ‘til you get Covid virus, and you’ll feel differently.”  I did get Covid virus, I’m pretty sure.  A real pain in the rear end… actually my head!  There are lots of bummers out there to catch, but I will never say that Western medical doctors have all the answers, like gods in white coats.  Here’s my little account of catching a really bad bug back in March of 2020:

I picked up a weird virus… Something I had never felt before, a dramatic ache starting in the supermarket one day, then a strong three week fever.  No cold symptoms, just the fever and a horrible headache, which seemed an exaggeration of the one I had before picking up the virus.

I get sick when I’m off-balance in life; in this case I had been writing too much, eight days in a row without a break.  When I write a lot, I rest a lot.  If I rest too much, including the use of ice packs to my neck, I will develop a headache from too much pillow contact… That’s how I came into the supermarket that day, and I picked up an ugly bug.

I blame no one.  Not the little girl I met on the bus to town, whose mom said she had diarrhea and was heading to the doctor’s.  Not the people I greeted at the market, or anyone else on my bus… This was the beginning of the Covid-19 panic, and all the market employees were wearing masks, making me think I was searching for produce in a hospital emergency room.

There was fear of illness, my own headache and being off-balance, and there you go… I got the evil thing that was out there.  Was it Covid-19?  I’ll never know for sure, because I don’t go to doctors much or believe in Western medicine.  I’m sober eighteen years, live in the mountains, know what is healthy for me and do it (most of the time).  Doctors’ offices are overcrowded, over-air-conditioned and over-priced.  No thanks.  I fail to see the health there.

Drawing blood out of my body, where I always thought it would do the most good; giving me experimental drugs at a hint of depression; selling experimental science as if it were factual; compromising itself with politics, getting rich and those viper insurance companies hiking up already exorbitant prices!  No thanks.  I prefer the country, my faith in God, dabble in Christian Science—using the bible and prayer for a positive attitude and health.

But I did get sick!  I get sick about every other year… I admit, this one was wild, stayed with me for a couple months off and on, just that fever ickiness washing over me every once in a while… Sickness!  I got it because I was off-balanced and my immune system was down from its normal strength.  Did I get it because someone “infected me?”  Did I get it because I wasn’t wearing a mask?  Did I get it because I was not practicing the blatantly un-Christian concept of “social distancing?”  No.  No.  No.  I reject all those theories posing as facts for governments to use in their irresponsible, un-Christian, anti-spiritual, pro-Western medical, shady legislating.  Why shady?  The U.S. Government (or any other I know) has never defined the word “health…” That’s a big deal when laws try to address “health”-care!

I like good science.  X-rays are cool, for instance… Facts!  I’m saddened by the Covid-19 Panic of 2020/2021 for two reasons: 1. It’s bad spirituality on display and 2. it’s bad science as well.  Yelling out a virus’ name, being scared of it, obsessing about it creates a false god.  Religions which have cowered from the virus should be ashamed, re-read the Ten Commandments in the bible, and “Have no gods” before the One!  Yell out One name! Fear that!! Center thoughts on that, love and Faith, then we’ll say, “Where the heck did that silly virus go?”  It goes away, like every other flu that’s ever hit a flu season!!

That’s what my strange virus did over time, like any other sickness I’ve ever felt.  It went away… It was a hard struggle, horrible headaches, fever, aches, losing pizazz and my passion for my life, not being able to write more than a couple paragraphs in three weeks!  Bummers galore!  I even cursed out God, I have to admit, more than once!  Mostly because in the middle of my sickness the locals where I live in Mexico set off fireworks a stone’s throw from my house, the week of Saint Joseph, littering our peace with bombs.  Went right to my temple, throbbing, shooting to go with the chest pain and twitches I always get around those stupid things.

Then the mosquitoes came… Just when I’m getting some sleep to bash that virus out, the buzz at my ear, and I’d have to hunt down the buggers for an hour!  Calamity!  Injustice!  Why’d you make this horrible stuff, God!?!?  I was ticked.  And sick… Near suicidal, flashing thoughts of self-harm… But… little by little… I apologized to God, that saint’s week of dumb fireworks passed, the mosquitoes gave me a break.

In 12-Step groups, I used to hear the expression, “God never gives us more than we can handle.”  I think there’s something there.  I was brought to the brink, but I had enough faith, positive thinking through my Christian Science training, and patience to gut it out and win.

***

We are all different, and my way of achieving health might be different than yours… My definition of health is a peace of mind I get by doing what I feel is God’s will for me, one day at a time.  Very “AA” of me, but in my life, I find it all goes better when the spiritual leads the emotional and physical.  Spirit, spirit, spirit!  It’s powerful stuff, that and faith, and I’ll declare now proudly that if I had one type of healthcare to name it would be Christian Science, a religion founded by Mary Baker Eddy which applied the bible (especially its gospels) to our day to day health.  An elderly woman I drove around as a service back in the ’90’s related this religious view of health to me, and I like it.  It works for me and it has a great price tag: it’s free.

Let’s put that aside as one person’s view of health in a large country.  There are over 300 million people in usurped Native American land, hence over 300 million views, which I imagine range from totally unlike mine to slightly different.  We all have different beliefs on many topics, the U.S. Government through its First Amendment to the Constitution purporting to allow for that, explicitly in the area of religion and the press.  My version of health has a very strong, in fact dominant religious and spiritual component to it.  Am I the only one?  I sincerely doubt that, as the population of Christian Scientists alone would clearly testify, a number over a couple hundred thousand to be sure.

If health has a religious connection to more than just me, why is Government so adamant that it should be involved with it?  Let’s look at that famous Amendment:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press…

The U.S. Government needs a clear definition of terms before it can be a valid legislator on “health;” perhaps one that would cross a religious line, so render it the wrong institution to in fact legislate on the topic.

I visited Otsungna (“L.A.”) in April from my home in Mexico to note that its mayor was making citizens wear masks in any public place.  This is one of many instances over the years of Government taking sides with Western medicine, calling their “experts” health itself.  A silent arrangement, but an unproven link lingers, as I know I don’t see or feel health in an over-air-conditioned, over-priced doctor’s office.  I have the Christian Science, yes, but even the Native American Great Spirit—the natural, earth-based approach to health—fills me with peace of mind more than Western offices, concrete, asphalt, pills and surgeries.  It’s okay for someone reading that to be upset and claim a different point of view!  Perhaps you get great peace of mind from Western medicine, which is fine, so wear your mask without making me wear one please.

We should all be free to decide our own health path on Turtle Island or anywhere else.  This is a hard essay to write, as I don’t actually believe in the United States as a valid government, for it was founded on armed theft and violence against the native people here.  In fact, at no time has the United States Government received consent of the native peoples to govern here that was not forced at gunpoint—and by John Locke’s definition of true government, validating itself by the “consent of the governed…” we have a failure.  That being said, one has to live by even invalid constructs, and in the case of the U.S. there is a law that’s supposed to give us free speech, and it also claims so proudly to be a democracy.

But during a virus panic, the Government feels it has an excuse to squash free speech, mandate quarantines and masks—lending to the problem in logic I have with such a response.  If one is living a healthy life, making positive choices and walking a path with conviction and belief—why would that person change such a path because of an over-hyped virus?  The U.S. and other governments aligned with Western medicine ask and demand that we be afraid of people, keep distances.  This is against Christian practice, asks that I believe the lie that my brother or sister human being out on the road is more likely to curse me than bless me. I’ll never believe that, nor will I ever believe in a government that doesn’t allow me to believe what I want to believe.

“But what about all the death?”  With true faith in a power greater than ourselves and viruses, there is no death.  Build the spirit well and live forever!

Amen

Guns Are for Cowards

24 Friday Jan 2020

Posted by Bill Watkins in Guns, Native, Native America, Native American, Peace, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

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Anti-Gun, Cowardice, Faith, Firearms, Great Spirit, Gun Control, Guns, Joy, Love, Native American, Peace

The native bow and arrow, quiet
and flowing with nature not good
enough to the conquering European
with our war sickness, our gun
powder blowing up targets loudly
and cowardly from distance.

Like splitting the atom, some think
it’s good while others see a diabolical
power unleashed, the Asian invention
and European application satisfied
the war addict, put humans above
nature and God.

Bombs, guns, fireworks—do they please
the Creator?  The birds?  The beasts of
the wilderness?  In battle, do guns
show someone’s courage and honor?
Or… do guns show cowardice, a warrior’s
unwillingness to face his enemy?

From the fields of the native Great Spirit
let us dive into the bible, the other
weapon England and Spain used to
conquer America.  What would Jesus
say to guns?  What does the bible say
about killing?

It’s so easy to hate your enemy, try to
kill them or scare them with something
like guns.  Anyone can hate someone
they do not like, but what strong heart
and soul can love their enemy as a brother,
see them walk on and come from the same

Earth?  From the same great Mother, all
humans human with the same needs,
hopes, fears, doubts… Faith?  Where is
yours, in a loud weapon that creates
fear and noise?  Mine is in love and Peace,
In the rainbow after the rain, in

the great but worthwhile struggle to
love those who persecute you, to see
them as fellow children in this merry-go-
round called Life

To Peace

23 Wednesday Oct 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in Decisions, Peace, Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry

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Tags

Alcoholism, Decisions, Joy, Love, Peace, Poem, Poetry, Spiritual

Star Peace123

We live and decide, sometimes
decisions above us somehow,
making themselves as we powerlessly
inch around where others have
often gone before us.

We do the thing we dream or see,
but from where did the dream come?
Did it come from good or evil?  Man or
God?  Devil or angel?  Is the thing we
do good not just for now, but eternity?

Where do we want to be when we
give up the earthly fight becoming
Spirit—all the love, genes and things
we ever did in the air, our legacy?

Riding a motorcycle, throwing up
devil horns, playing it all loud,
drinking a flammable liquid, taking
a drug to alter our state, acts of
desperate high, don’t forget loose
sex that risks disease…

These are for our moment, not
forever, and get us by until
some lives do just that, they
“get by” and defer on big decisions
until “later.”

Sometimes later fails to arrive,
and we suddenly let a doctor decide.
We take the drug, do the thing told,
because the alternative is original
thought, which has less roadmaps,
we could get lost—

I’d rather die with this doctor I know
than the unknown curve in wild,
unfettered nature.

One finds strength in numbers,
looks around at dollars made drinking
“what he’s drinking,” doing what
they’re doing, add some job security
with your mayonnaise and you got
a pretty manageable sandwich…

But the soul… “Dust thou art to
dust returnest” was not spoken of
the free.  And we all are, so watch
your step because sometimes you
get just what you asked for, ma’am
and sirs.

That shiny car… guzzling gas and loud.
That bright new bike, gaining roads
at higher speeds, don’t crash, I lost
a friend that way.  A six-pack of beer,
so exciting when we skip studying
what’s in it, C2H5OH ethyl good
for rockets, but us?

You can dazzle in the short term or
deny your highs to live out a long,
meaningful, helpful life toward Peace.

If you want war, have it.  Be loud, live
fast and know the blaze of glory
is in the eye of beholders, absent you,
if you die young.

It comes back to the old wisdom about
honoring your parents.  If you
want a long, good life, honor those
people who brought you.

If you love your anger and self-pity
at your hard times so much, refuse
to forgive and believe in a power
greater than you, spit on your
parents’ advice and memory
because “they were bad,” you have
made a choice, own it and good bye.

Me, I’d rather sacrifice my passion
a bit, have and exude Peace instead of
playing around with this life dishonorably
and die.

I Like Life

13 Wednesday Jun 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Life, Nature, Peace, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Recovery

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Gratitude, Joy, Life, Love, Peace, Poetry, Recovery, Sobriety

Just as it is.

It needs not our sour rot,
the grape is better than the
wine—a reason they call war
trophies spoils,

the disease of more plundering
the till that is perfect as is,
Lao Tzu’s quiet, uncarved block.

I like Life!

Sunshines and rays against the
mist making ready rainbows of
our worst rains and pains…

I like life!

Just as it was; God, Higher Power
the mantra hated by an atheist,
his or her right but look not to
altered states—

Put up a fight!!

Do not say good bye until true
fatigue sets in, the eyes close
in a smile—

Good night!

I like life, citizens of Rome, nothing’s
wrong until we think too much,
adult games forgetting that philosophy
that to get to heaven (peace of mind)
one must be like a child.

I like life—

Calm in the middle of strife.

The worse thing that can happen
often out of our control, ask
the powers above for Wisdom,
be like King Solomon and grow
very old!

Not 100 years like today, but
hearken back to the Old Jews’
day.

“He was 946 years old, and was
gathered to his people.”

I like life!

Sunny, rainy, put up a fight!  Sing
song, God, good, no?

Rain.  Sunshine.

Bow.  Rainbow?  Fine—the end?

no.  Beginning?

Always

The Noise of a Helicopter

27 Sunday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, God, Native, Nature, Peace, Poem, Poems, Poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Joy, Love, Peace, Quiet

Did we pause to ask?

Before we reached for the sky, turned
on the motors, did we ask?

Peace.

Peace of mind… fighting the winds
of change and some’s progress
while the birds hang on and chirp,
the deer and coyote hiding.

What is truly good for us?  Is “no”
a complete response sufficient to
stuff the ask?

The disease of more, the frantic pace,
the never-satisfied on the move race
of running fast, burning fuel and
unsettling the score.

God forgives us when we ask, but
cannot help you at 10,000 feet
and 300 miles per hour.

Heaven is a peace of mind, knowing
you did your best to be the best
person you were capable of becoming.

John Wooden and I invented that after
he had won 10 national championships
without focusing on winning.

Each and every skill defined and perfected,
the game and our lives broken down into
their parts.

Find it in your heart to stop.

***

The rotors must stop for us to hear
the LORD, Great Spirit, Mother
Nature, the Lady of the Lake yearning
for our quiet so the deer can
return to inspire us.

God is not in the weeds but in their
pulling, the mulch of strength covering
the growth of evil as the dragon
breathes death on the disrespectful
and reverent alike.

Shhhh.

Be quiet.  Stop doing.

Turn over all will to good, then decide
whether the speed is worth the loss.

The being on hyperspace, whizzing
by the lights, making noise—

How did it help us sleep?

Shhhh.

God is talking

The Search for Meaning

06 Tuesday Jun 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Native, Peace, Poetry, Political

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Tags

England, JFK, Joy, Livingston, Los Angeles, Love, Montana, Native America, Peace, Retribution, Slavery, Truth, Wales

Ancient Sins, Amends
and Justice

-by Bill Watkins 6/5/2017

Livingston2 -- Work Walk

LORD, help me communicate your message.

Amen.

***

I have left Los Angeles, California in search of meaning, poetic justice—taking my sins east someday across the ocean back to Europe.

I have decided to pass through beautiful Livingston, Montana for a year or two to gain a different experience, to become a man, prepare for England’s colder weather, and to get some financial standing.

410 years ago three Watkins brothers arrived in the land we now call Virginia—a land that was inhabited by a great people.  We, the English, named it what we wanted and called it ours.

We measured ourselves against the natives by skin color, dress and military weapons—saw an “advantage,” sought to conquer.

Our sins are vast.  Sins of judgment, murder, selfishness, ingratitude, ignorance, and self-righteousness.  Sure, we were chased there by religious wars, oppressive social structures and monarchy.

But also greed.  Vanity; the desire for fame and glory, riches—gold and spices.

A name to place in history as the man or men who discovered a new land or route around the world.

Notice no mention of “God” yet.  While our explorers spoke of “mission” and Bible and bringing God to the New World, our actions were GodLESS.

We lived by the gun and sword.  Died by it.  So many of us throughout history to now just on that Jesus-mentioned “wide path to destruction.”

Lao Tzu said “You cannot change the world.  It cannot be done.”

So why write a piece like this?  Why leave Los Angeles?

Why come to Montana, en route to Wales, United Kingdom—home of the Watkins family that stayed in Europe?

Meaning.

For this poet, meaning… For the world, this poet sets out with the gift God directly gave to drive truth into the wide path.

To split that path, and light the trail back to Heaven’s narrow road.

If I believe through fast and prayer that I may move a mountain from there to here, it shall be done.

If I know CIA killed JFK, then covered up the crime—I shall say so, demand truth, and move on to other dark chapters, light them with alacrity.

If I am sure that we owe amends to anyone related to American SLAVES, I shall write that fact—and push us to truth, action and needed reparations.

Hurting others is hurting ourselves.  Killing off Native America, is killing off Nature in this land.

We must stop, restore land to the Native peoples “won” through bloodshed, threats and broken promises—bring Karma back to the land…

The Great Spirit, often forgotten from big cities to the hearts of reservations—sad with despondent reservation, alcohol, depression—will and must rise again.

The Great Spirit will rise when the Native American people rise again, and the land will prosper.

A Third Political party will emerge.  One of peace and love for Mother Earth.

But first I must remove myself back to England.  Back across the sea, and take our sins with me.

I do so for the Cherokee.  For the Sioux.  For the Crow, the Blackfoot, the Tongva out west—all the tribes, together must rise as I leave with God’s spirit East from here to the land of the Celts.

I will take back, finally, the land’s Gold:

Native American Wisdom and Love for Land.

Europe will thrive when I bring this gold back to them.

And meaning will come to me, a life poetic that gave up comfort to honor God.

Crime is Crime. Not Religious

23 Tuesday May 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Peace, Political, Terror, Terrorism

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Tags

Joy, Love, Nawar, Nawar al-Awlaki, Peace

-by Bill Watkins 5/23/2017

In Alcoholics Anonymous I heard the term HALT for the first time, referring to “Hungry Angry Lonely Tired,” as in: beware not to get bogged down by those feelings.  To do so, would be to risk a relapse into alcohol consumption.

It is my opinion that all crime, no matter how law enforcement labels it, comes from five sources: the four in HALT, and the devil himself.

Crime that hurts people, is not a rational thing usually, so cannot be explained or fought with rational tools.

A bomb goes off and people die.  A tragedy happens, and the many stages of grief and loss begin, one of them being anger.  With that anger, a desire for revenge for many.

Revenge is also an irrational response, and does not rationally stop the behavior that created the anger that leads to revenge.

The big missing buzz word so far is love.  Love is the irrational response to all matters good and bad—hard to give when faced with bad, like crime, but of endless value.  Forgiveness is love’s proud and proper neighbor, ready to enhance and spread like misnamed “terrorism.”

Crime is crime.  Call it “terror.”  Call it an unfortunate response to Hunger, Anger, Loneliness and/or fatigue.  The devil spinning evil, like a hurricane hitting the southeast of America, a bad storm—a necessary flip of the coin, yin to yang, the opposite of goodness, love and peace.

Lao Tzu said “we cannot change the world. It cannot be done,” and I agree, but…  It is ours to try.

Let’s try with love not hate, with forgiveness not revenge, with hugs not bombs.

Livingston

05 Saturday Nov 2016

Posted by Bill Watkins in Love, Peace, Poetry

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Livingston, Montana, Wales

I watch them litter in Los Angeles,
hear the illegal bombs detonate
every Summer, thug life calling it all
the Fourth of July—but you know:

War is war.

I look East, to where my people
came from, bumbling West.

Wales.

Home of crusty shores, green valleys,
wet and medium cloudy and blue
skies in my dreams only, ‘cause
I’ve never been.

London has plays, football and a dry
wit, the foundation of English
there among the crags of Scottish
Highland wind—

Hope dawns in an Irish Spring, sing-
songing an accent, speaking of a golf
links well-played by a guy named Padraig,
green as can be, smoky over water
to the sunshine of a well-struck fairway
wood against thunder.

Rains all the time until it doesn’t, the clouds
yawning fog away and the rainbow
spawns a son, Gold not waiting at its end
but beginning when an “American” tired
of hidden Kennedy’s and covered up
Cold War murder returns.

“Repatriation” sings out to the conscience
of a man beat around the links too many
times by alcoholic graft.

I seek a putter from the rough, couldn’t
be happier I can see around the bush—

My 400 years of servitude in “America” perhaps
passing like a fallen mountain breeze.

Winter descends on trash in Los Angeles,
and I—

I seek employment in Montana with friends:

River called “Elk” or “Yellowstone” by other names
as flowing.

Constant is God’s invitation to Glory.

But we only accept when ready—

When we’ve put in the work, amended the
idiot we were to bring out the man
or woman ever-seeking the child within on
paths East toward Heaven.

Reborn is the sinner at admitting fault.
Love beckons the other half in me
unexplored.

Come with me to Livingston, in words
only if necessary, we like to keep it small.

The town is a river, mountains and changing
weather. This is God’s country at the hip
of National Park presence.

A break for many, exposure to the land.

The Indians had it right all along, never
cursing—always blessing the land.

Without good words, hold tongues.

I go East to Livingston, if she’ll have me.

A year or two, then Wales. Home.

400 years later, Watkins returns…
if she’ll have me.

If she’ll have me.

Heddwch fy mhobl…

If she’ll have me!!!

Put Your Guns Down…

20 Saturday Dec 2014

Posted by Bill Watkins in American Poem, Peace

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Tags

Joy, Love, Peace

Put it Down

I guess we all have to live our
own lives, make mistakes—
fall on our face, we must
learn our own way and can’t
or won’t always be taught another…

We come from where we come
from, some are book smart or dumb,
others with street savvy, others can
ride a horse, know what to do in
a barn—

Still others work on a farm, and the
city slicker like me’d be lost
outside the city… until found.

Like a Frost poem from long ago
we are called to what we’re called to,
I hope you find your way from ground
to air to ground, over rivers and snow;
the journey that’s life takes what it takes,

and gives when it can, evil fighting good
and vice versa, Tao Te Ching still yelling
out “you cannot change the world,” and yet
we try and we try and we try,
‘cause that’s our job.

The pacifist calls the military man,
asks does he want a show, because
“I dream to love you guys anyway,
your choice not being mine, but maybe
by us mixing we’ll learn from each other—
be fine.”

And the comic visits military bases,
and the world looks more and more like
the charter from the United Nations…

The U.S. finally gives up its Covert Operations
because you can’t rightly shake hands
with your brother, steal the cash from
his underwear drawer, and be ethical
all at once.

Something’s gotta give, and maybe
it’s that military boy after the show,
having heard some words he liked
He wonders why Dad never told
him so…

Life, what a mess—sometimes to figure
it out you gotta be Elliot Ness, Wyatt Earp
or Lao Tsu—

Someone knew but shhh! The FBI is listening,
the good part of the CIA taking notes,
the bad being forgotten as Obama with heart

Welcomes the Cubans back to the dinner
table. It’s not about agreeing all the time.

Tolerance good enough and that brings
in Mary:

“Enough is as good as a feast.”

Well then, ready to drop your gun?

Put it down, next to mine, let’s you
and I get a pad out and make a schedule
for today—

16 hours to kill—

Scratch that. 16 hours without killing,
without assaulting, without something
to get in the way of contented sleep,
maybe go for a walk and read, do some work,
housework is fine.

Force times distance keeping us
six feet above the end, so that we
can be friends and sleep.

see ya in 8

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