• AA Pitch
  • ABOUT
  • Anti-Alcohol Ads
  • Beverly Hills Cop V
  • Beyond the Grades
  • Bill’s Books
  • Church of MARY
  • CLEAN L.A.
  • Comedy
  • Contact/Booking
  • Election Reform — Los Angeles
  • Events
  • First Step Education
  • Guest Register
  • L.A. Budget Ideas
  • Love without Alcohol — Public Speaking
  • Music/YouTube
  • Oswald’s 6th
  • People’s Police Force — L.A.
  • Podcast — Bill’s Poetique
  • Poetry Arrived
  • Public Safety — L.A.
  • Return to Silverado
  • Submit
  • Subtracting Division

Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

~ Words For You, Just Ask

Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet

Category Archives: Poems

Messing with Mom

30 Wednesday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blog, Blogs, God, Honor, Misogyny, Mom, Morality, Mother, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Sex, Sexism

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Immigration, Ivanka, Joy, Love, Mom, Morality, Mother, Mothers, Peace, Political, Race, Racism, Trump, Truth

Men with stiff upper lips gather
in dark rooms, light cigars, drink
Scotch whiskey and avoid their feelings.

White people.

White men, holding hard to their
dreams of control and privilege—

the false narrative that “America” is
white, European, and manifest in
supreme destiny to be clean of the
riff-raff of anything not them.

Native peoples here were one with the
land, slaves brought in to tend it,
too.

And the men gather, not white-skinned
always, more like pink, red, sometimes
tanned against the sun, necks burned
to coin a derogatory phrase—
and shouldn’t we with conscience choose
not to use those?

Heaven knows the white, dark, brown,
whatever colored person is as good or
bad as the next;

We’re all prone to mistake.  To moments
of joy, perfect and true.

The smile universal, the love Ivanka
knows about even if Dad spits “Fuck you.”

The truth of the dream more than the
border of “seems,” something there is
that doesn’t love a wall and wants it
down.

I thought at first sound of a wall to
the south, “Okay, interesting, we all have
an option to wall our homes off from
the world, why not a country?”

Then I figured out that the term “wall,”
and “Build the Wall” next to “Lock Her Up”
at campaign rallies was a clear dog
whistle to the racist fear-mongering
masses, a racist explosion of “keep
them out,” they’re “criminals!”

They’re “animals!!!”

And Donald, sir:

So are you.  That you do not know
that is why you admire Andrew Jackson
and his Trail of Tears.

You have left the human race, you who
hold onto your racism and xenophobic
fear of others.

You are not animals at play in God’s
field with other animals—you who cast
out “different” as “worse.”

I love you.

We must love the oppressed and the
oppressor, for who at day’s end is more
close to death than life as the character
assassinator, the genocider, the angry,
stiff-lipped cigar sucker,

back rooms lit with the devil’s glare,
hoping against hope to turn your four-
year old heart into four years of
wrecking ball politics, hate, fear
and dismantling more than even CIA
managed in Cold War?

Carnage?

Oh, to be a fly on the wall when Daddy
brought that home.

Mine did every once in a while,
but I forgive him, love him, and
honor the God racist misogynist GOP
sellouts claim to worship by staying
small under Him or Her.

By listening.

By accepting that Mom brought us here
and deserves our respect!

Not a border full of Cops taking
their children away as a deterrent
to make up for your lack of gratifying
sex.

Go back to the wives of your youth,
Trump and criminal sympathizing supporters,
honor your father and mother, but first:

Repent.

Admit we stole this land.

Not for you, dummy, as I smile to tuck
in your shirt, little guy.

We admit truth to make the world
better

Diapers and Dementia

30 Wednesday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blog, Blogs, Health, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Aging, Health, Joy, Love, Peace

The Hebrew patriarch used to live 900
years, call it a day, was “gathered to
his people,” and passed away in peace.

We live shorter lives with more on the
planet now, and there are at least two
distinct camps:

The deists and the atheists use different
words to describe the same things,
which is fine—and in the end, words
are fictions, as Borges wrote.

We want to feel a part of something,
feel good, loved, connected during our
lives, and when it is time for our bodies

to expire?

A panic ensues for some who did not
prepare for the moment, keep loved
ones close, families between this or
that belief, just knowing it’s easier to
let a “doctor” decide.

We turn our will and lives over to
White Coats, to cold offices with
test tubes and vials, experiments
going the extra mile

to hope and fight and extend our
physical lives.

But at what cost?

Should we extend physical lives deep
into dementia?  Should we keep loved ones
in hospitals to end lives, while we keep
busy “doing me?”

What if we took a timeout and gathered
to our loved ones, prepared ourselves
for the transition, from physical life
to spirit?

We could do without the diapers.
The pain. The cost—both financial
and emotional!

We could be free the moment we let
go of this fear of the body expiring!

I almost died last night, because years
ago I overdosed twice, messed up my
insides.

Now, if I don’t get eating right, I go to
bed and risk not sleeping through until
the light.

I fight hard, and some fear of death is
natural and good!

But, if we pray and connect with Mother
Nature or God well enough, we’re sure
to get some peace, allow and accept the
beautiful transfer of our aging lives and
spirit to all that we loved and has loved
us.

“Terrorism”

30 Wednesday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Crime, Criminal Law, Law, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Tao

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Crime, Joy, Lao Tzu, Law, Love, Peace, Poems, Poetry, Robert Frost, Sense, Tao, Tao Te Ching, Terrorism, Truth

is a myth.

We’re trying to group and organize
our thoughts and conditions,
what racists do to keep things easy.

Brand a group or situation “X.”

Mark the spot of a crime “Y.”

The devil loves conflation, combining
and confusing, hates when we make
decisions, loves when we lump and
generalize.

Declare something “Good” or “Evil?”

Judge not lest ye be judged was not
a religious statement, but true.

Ask not what your country can do
for you, but what you can do for
your country was not political but true.

It’s a tragedy when murder happens,
but does it help to label the evil with
further labels like “terrorism” or
“terrorist act?”

Evil is evil, wrong is wrong, and to go
further to categorize is to welcome
a slew of lies.

Muslims.  “Radical Islam” are terms
born from these lies, we start witch
hunts against a group instead of fighting
the evils inside your own heart.

Gandhi was right, in part, and at the
time of his murder was a great voice
for peace.  (why he was killed)

Did terrorism kill him?

Irrelevant, your honor, it was wrong,
unfortunate, and God shall punish
all such acts, where God could be:

Good
Orderly
Direction,

a Higher Power, or just good
common sense.

A good fence.  The neighborhood in
check, my mind and body in balance
because I prayed first,

then acted.

Or did nothing—the spiritual way
of the Tao.

Aloe

30 Wednesday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Nature, Overcoming, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Strength

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Earth, Heaven, Joy, Love, Overcoming, Peace, Peace of Mind, Poems, Poetry, Truth

I can’t remember the last time I
saw my green ivy, up the walk
along the steps, the rocks of
my entry, smiling saying “hello.”

One night a neighbor sprayed
poison on them, ‘cause that’s
where I live!  Los Angeles, the city,
“civilization” without sidewalk
security,

litter on the streets.

Crime and lack of care, but
there… There we are, finances
have you where you are for now,
trying to make the best of what is…

There were a couple aloe cacti
on the rocks, as well—and when the
ivy died, taking away my green,
the aloe grew, started to take over.

Something there is that doesn’t
love ivy-killing spray, rises up
in the fray, becomes the ship staying
the course in the spray—

they tell you to walk away, to
not see your uncle buried at
Arlington with full honors but
you go anyway.

The orange of the flower replaces
the green of ivy goodness, as we return
home every day.

The hate cannot steal the hope and
its neverending growth and ray,
the devil a coward when you call him
out, then Decide.

Ahh, he hates a decision as you
stay your own path against the tide.

Self-doubt, used to be their shouts,
you block it out and advance on
heaven, a narrow walk for only
certain, chosen soldiers who look to
left and right, even dangerously behind
to help another onto the trail
before we die triggering eternal life.

Aloe Vera is tougher than the poison
as is to death life.

Accepting my Balls

29 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Acceptance, Anatomy, Blog, Blogs, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Acceptance, Aging, Atheism, Balls, Birches, God, Joy, Love, Nature, Peace, Power, powerless, Robert Frost, Spirituality, Truth

As I see and feel balls sagging
from right to left, left to right,
I like to think someone’s been
swinging them.

But swinging them doesn’t bend
them down to stay.   Nature does
that.  Time, age: you wake up, and
your rocks dropped.

***

This can be a sad event, and was
for me, especially when I felt
nothing much happened in my
youth, no great wear and tear

that would leave an item or thing
stretched out or overused,
necessitating the sag, precipitating
a change, a drop, the swing—

Sad!!

I turned thirty years old, and
they dropped.

It was not at the brink of death,
closing in on very old age but
thirty years in, thirty times around
the sun, and they sagged!!!

I wrote several books, a screenplay,
thought of all different ways not
to think of my sagging rocks;

wrote about kids, a Kids World,
figured I was done so give the world
over to the tight-balled and perky
youths, think of myself less and less,
that’s it the ticket is to be more and
more Selfless!

***

That didn’t work, and I stayed depressed,
did the twelve steps on the problem
at last, and it went away for a time, the
depression about sagging—but then it
came back with a vengeance!

***

Then one day, it went away.  I accept
my sagging balls because they’re here
to stay.

What’s more, I’m powerless over them,
my age, and this rock spinning through space,
giving me cool ideas to write as long as
I walk on her and thank.

The best way out of a good depression
is to do nothing, wait for it to pass,
accept all things and Thank.

Redemption

28 Monday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Amends, Blog, Blogs, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Redemption

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Amends, Love, Peace, Recovery, Restitution, Retribution, Slavery, Truth

A song of chains precedes any
of freedom.

We must state our cause, stake
our place in goal and dream

before the winds of change make
us more than we seem,

the perfect beings that for days
and weeks of life cannot

be supported—even the strongest
beams, gone are the memories

of the true line, until instead of
the flammable drink,

we humbly on paper or screens
opine!

God give us a soul, a season, a path
under foliage and civilization’s
litter on the head of first peoples and
nations we in Europe so arrogantly
bestowed.

Could it be that we escaped a way of
life over there, in our old world, only
to force that way on this American land?

I sound mad, but am only trying to report
the problems with the sound

above our homes, the helicopter hell
and siren fort—

1607 the British in armor seeking fame,
riches and glory.

We may have gotten them; but at what
cost?  And is there any going back to
make amends, to balance things,

to redeem our forefathers who often
forgot to slow down, breathe, and thank
God for our land before stealing more?

There must be, if the slave song
can make us free.

Geocracy

28 Monday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Earth, God, Nature, Plog, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Earth, Geocracy, God, Love, Nature, Peace, Political, Politics, Truth

I’ve never seen a person rule
during an earthquake.

Where is democracy, “people-rule”
during a hurricane?

Democracy is a fallacy, a beyond bold
toward egocentric self-will run riot,
as the alcoholics say.

We have some power, human
beings can lift, exercise, work—
do some things, but the limits—
our limits blare at times, enough
so that we’d be wise in politics to

leave space for what we cannot do.

The effort to keep God out of
American politics, calling Concept
Religion.

We have been confused, led onto
the wide path of war and deception,
covert acts and destruction by an
entity some call Satan, others “evil,”

me?  It doesn’t really matter.

***

God, Earth, People rule might be
more reflective of truth and interesting;

God, Earth and People rule, call it
Geocracy with a capital G.

To reflect the things we can do,
that which we cannot; to recognize
higher and greater powers than us, at
times, to tell the truth.

***

Humility is knowing one’s place,
nine out of ten of us outside our
lines, scrambling to turn a Christmas
list into a nursery rhyme, nothing
fully fitting with the next, until we fall
and scrape our chin bad enough to
change.

You must want it.

***

The war hawks frown; the atheists stir,
and semantics has the angry adult down
and out while the child looks on, not
as full with words but without them True.

People can rule sometimes, give it to us
one out of three.

We will be a healthier world and nation
the moment we officially recognize the
other great powers that govern us.

Write it down, right the frown, turned
to the upside—

Do less, and things get done;

Lao Tzu and the spiritual masters knew
how little we could control.

And God made the heavens and the
Earth; and it was good.

The stories, the words, they run out of steam;
things just are, let them be.

Place the Earth and Higher Power
somewhere at the political discussion
table; leave space, watch the glory
of all we didn’t do,

and all that because we held back
could be.

Racism

27 Sunday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Racism

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Joy, Love, Peace, Racism, Trump

Judgment of others from fear,
we are concerned with not having
enough, being enough, so point
over there to them.

It’s the calm before the storm,
to coast along racist and okay with it.

We cannot be where we are not,
are wise to accept some things
until that day when we ourselves get
hurt.

Now it’s time to change, a sensitivity
develops we did not know existed.

We used to call out difference or
perceived difference as a way to not
only point out difference but a
Trumped up superiority.

Truth is, and will always be, no
matter what we as people with our
words do or see!

“God” might just be…

Good
Orderly
Direction,

a morning defection from a country
or land of persecution or abuse.

The progressive welcomes the traveler,
while the nationalist, the racist:

Afraid of change and difference or
perceived difference…

Keeps the difference or perceived
difference “out.” A “purity” is striven
for, a racial cleansing no matter the
history of a land, the one race will
lay claim to it all.

Look at my skin and its color!

It is better than others because I
said so, “And I’m very smart,

Believe me!”

Racism is just another way to hell,
the wide path to it staying wide
the narrow to enlightenment, care
and heaven just there, as well!

Nothing ever changes.

Then… behold.

A great change on the horizon!!

A human race under higher
powers!

Something only has power when
given that power, so racism without
reaction is just a lie, a piece of bait
on the line.

Don’t bite.

Pray for the souls that suffer so
much they lash at others, find
a safe place to prosper, and never
give up being the perfect you
against the storm that is the
Devil’s confusion, judgment, a lie
that fellow products of man and
woman’s love are somehow better
or worse by looks or some loud,
insecure bully’s voice.

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 Truth

25 Friday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poetry, Truth

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

AA, Alcoholism, Betty Ford, Christianity, Gospel, Jesus, Joy, Life, Love, Lying, Peace, Recovery, Religion, Spirituality, Truth

Things are whether we call them
such or not; words inappropriate
vessels for the Truth.

And yet, when we try, and at the
right time these symbols hit the
spot, music in time.

We cannot tell our own true story
and feelings until the room is safe—
we’ve been hurt before,

so sometimes back off at the moment
to secure ourselves from further harm.
Seek ye, and ye shall find

was spoken by a teacher who preached
“gospel” from the old English “God-spell,”
stories about God,

“good” and true requisite, the evidence
of truth being the oneness you feel
or don’t feel, the thing

wins or loses, you know truth when you
read or hear it, most of the time!  We
lie when afraid, when running

and hoping everything will be all right
if I can just get by this tricky moment.
Plenty of time for truth…

Just not today?

Hmm, tragedy bleeds a different ray,
golden sunshine at the rain yields
color.  The pain un-

medicated improves, and beyond that,
the thrill of overcoming becomes its
own high-level joy, so…

Go for it.  Tell your journal first,
if you’d like, but find that safe room
and tell the truth.

Be a safe pair of ears for someone else;
advocate for truth, but you must seek it
first!  It may mean you enter

a place you have fears about entering,
a 12-step meeting, a spiritual retreat,
where the schmucks there

don’t appear to be “doing” anything!!
What a bore!!  You look for a basket, a way
to achieve and score.

The rug will be under your deception as
long as God wants it there, but when it
is pulled, go with it,

and come down to where I kneel, it’s
fun to not only feel, but to report the
feeling, band together

with your brothers and sisters in truth,

and sing.

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • September 2025
  • August 2025
  • April 2025
  • March 2025
  • January 2025
  • September 2024
  • January 2024
  • September 2023
  • August 2023
  • April 2023
  • November 2022
  • March 2022
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • July 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014

Categories

  • 1984
  • Acceptance
  • Addiction
  • African
  • African American
  • Aging
  • Alcohol
  • Alcoholics Anonymous
  • Alcoholism
  • Alegre
  • Allegory
  • Amends
  • America
  • American Poem
  • Amor
  • Amtrak
  • Anatomy
  • Andrew Young
  • Anecdote
  • Anti-Political
  • Apolitical
  • Arthur Davison Ficke
  • Article
  • Articles
  • Austin Clarke
  • Awareness
  • Basketball
  • Beautiful
  • beauty
  • Beer
  • Belief
  • Bible
  • Biblia
  • Biblica
  • Biblical
  • Big Bang
  • Bilingual
  • Birthday
  • Blog
  • Blogs
  • Blues
  • Books
  • Border
  • Boys
  • Britain
  • Brothers
  • Bullies
  • California
  • California History
  • Cars
  • Catholic
  • Catholic Church
  • Childhood
  • Children
  • Christ
  • Christian
  • Christian Science
  • Christianity
  • Christmas
  • Church
  • CIA
  • Circumcision
  • Citizenship
  • Civil Rights
  • Classic Poems
  • Classified
  • College
  • College Sports
  • Colonialism
  • Comedy
  • Comical
  • Commandments
  • Community
  • Conquest
  • Constitution
  • Corruption
  • Cosmic
  • Covid
  • Creation
  • Crime
  • Criminal Law
  • Cristiano
  • Cristo
  • Cute
  • Cycle of Life
  • Dating
  • Decisions
  • dedication
  • Depression
  • Divorce
  • Doctors
  • Dogs
  • Drugs
  • Earth
  • Easter
  • Education
  • England
  • Enlightenment
  • Entertainment
  • Environment
  • Epic
  • Erotic
  • Escape
  • España
  • Español
  • Espiritual
  • Eternity
  • Europe
  • Explicit
  • Faith
  • Family
  • Fantasy
  • Fútbol
  • Feminism
  • Football
  • Forgiveness
  • Frost
  • Galaxy
  • Geocracy
  • God
  • Gospel
  • Government
  • Graphic
  • Gratitude
  • Great Spirit
  • Growing Up
  • Gun Control
  • Guns
  • Hard Times
  • Healing
  • Health
  • Heaven
  • Helicopters
  • High School
  • Higher Power
  • Hillary
  • Historical
  • History
  • Holiday
  • Home
  • Homeless
  • Homosexuality
  • Honest
  • Honor
  • Humor
  • Humorous
  • Immigration
  • Imperialism
  • Indigenous
  • Innocence
  • Innocence Lost
  • Inspiration
  • Inspirational
  • Intactivism
  • Interview
  • Ireland
  • Irish
  • Irish Poets
  • James Oppenheim
  • Jesus
  • Jesus said
  • JFK
  • John Gould Fletcher
  • Journalism
  • Journey
  • Joy
  • Junior High
  • Katherine Mansfield
  • Kennedy
  • Kids
  • La Fe
  • La medicina occidental
  • Ladies
  • Land Theft
  • Lao Tzu
  • LAPD
  • Latin America
  • Law
  • Life
  • Literature
  • Living with an Alcoholic
  • Livingston
  • Los Angeles
  • Loss
  • Love
  • Marriage
  • Masks
  • Mater Dolorosa
  • México
  • Men's Health
  • Mental Exercise
  • Mental Health
  • Mexico
  • Middle Age
  • Middle School
  • Military
  • Misogyny
  • Mob
  • Mom
  • Montana
  • Morality
  • Mother
  • Murder
  • Music
  • My Dad
  • Mystical
  • Nahuatl
  • Nationalism
  • Native
  • Native America
  • Native American
  • Nature
  • NCAA
  • New Year
  • New Zealand
  • News
  • Noise Pollution
  • Nostalgia
  • Ogden Nash Poems
  • Oldies
  • Olympic
  • Olympics
  • Opinion
  • Originality
  • Overcoming
  • Pain
  • Panic
  • Paradise
  • Parenting
  • Parody
  • Pasadena
  • Pánico
  • Peace
  • Peer Pressure
  • Personal
  • Philosophy
  • Plog
  • Poem
  • Poema
  • Poemas
  • Poems
  • Poesia
  • Poetic Blog
  • Poetry
  • Police
  • Political
  • Political Satire
  • Politics
  • Polytechnic School
  • Positive Thinking
  • Positivism
  • Prayer
  • Prescribed Medication
  • Public Transportation
  • Race
  • Racism
  • Rare Poems
  • Recovery
  • Redemption
  • Relationships
  • Religion
  • Religious
  • Resentment
  • Review
  • Rights
  • Robert Frost
  • Romance
  • Russia
  • Salud
  • San Miguel de Allende
  • Satire
  • Science
  • Scoop
  • Scottish
  • Sex
  • Sexism
  • Sexual
  • Sexuality
  • Sexy
  • Shakespeare
  • Shootings
  • SK Rolle
  • Slavery
  • Sobriety
  • Socal
  • Soccer
  • Soul
  • Space
  • Space Travel
  • Spain
  • Spanish
  • Spies
  • Spirit
  • Spiritual
  • Spiritual Awakening
  • Spirituality
  • Sports
  • Sports Addiction
  • Sportsmanship
  • Spring
  • Stage Review
  • Strength
  • Success
  • Suicide
  • Surfing
  • Talgarth
  • Tao
  • Tao Te Ching
  • Ted Hughes Poems
  • Teen
  • Terror
  • Terrorism
  • Thanksgiving Lie
  • Theater
  • Theatre
  • Thomas Lodge
  • Thomas MacGreevy
  • Tongva Nation
  • Tragedy
  • Travel
  • Tribute
  • Trump
  • Truth
  • UCSB
  • Ukraine
  • United Nations
  • United states
  • Universe
  • USA
  • Valentine's Day
  • Volleyball
  • Voting
  • Wales
  • Waves
  • Weird
  • Welsh
  • Western Medicine
  • Westridge School
  • Winter
  • Winter Olympics
  • Wisdom
  • Womanizing
  • Women
  • Women's Health
  • Words
  • World Peace
  • Xenophobia
  • Youth

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet
    • Join 452 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar