Monday, August 31, 2015

A 'Zoo' Is Not a 'Circus'


Sunday, January 25, 2015

A 'Zoo' Is Not a 'Circus'

A 'Zoo' Is Not a 'Circus'

By Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)

A tragedy skillfully eluded; though casualities
not wholly spared,

when under the Supreme guidance
of the Founder

diverse creatures

(wild, domestic,
some tragically extinct)

He lovingly redirected, recaged,
and nutritionally fed.

He honestly cared.

*

An organization
He originally developed;

an audience
Not
simply to impress:

Education,
Enlightenment,

and feats of nature,
especially children,
appreciatively observed, through

Zoos--
internationally addressed.

(Established
for the edification of All.)

A marvelous system.
A wonderful exchange.

Some audience and animal interaction.
Abundant knowledge to gain.

This atmosphere of 
introspective
comradery

He blessed.

But a 'Zoo' is
Not a 'Circus,'

though animals in common exist.
And peace between men and mammals

Must harmoniously persist.

For a 'Ring Master'
commands
attention;

Demands
acknowledgement
as he cracks his leather whip.

The world to seduce--an ocean.
His arrogance steers his ship.

To entertain--Now that's his profession!
Total amusement
ostensibly his desire.

For exclamations solely.
His ideas provocatively inspired.

But a 'Ring Master'
the Founder
did not need.

A 'Ring Master'
He did not hire.

*

The bars of security and protection
distracted guardians

hazardly forgot.

Foolishy kept raised.

Lives of humans and animals
endangered,
as caretakers
humorously played.

Amidst
giggles, laughs, claps and praise
once contained lions
the 'Ring Master' unwisely let prowl,

while around the grounds
snakes stealthy slithered;

unauthorized; thus unpaid.

Restraints necessary
indifferently mislaid.

Tiny chipmunks and other critters
immediately disappeared

as sidelined monkeys
paced and squealed

when crocodiles
devoured

unattended, re- or misdirected,
sadly unprotected baby seals.

Yet ... averted? ... Total chaos!
with principles old and new now applied.
The 'Ring Masters?' ... Wicked history.
Their crew forcibly fired.

Bars lowered painstakingly raised;

re-focus, gently, yet firmly renewed.

The zoo's brief ambivelent spirit
to no longer embue.

For a 'Zoo'
Is Not;

Should not ever 'be'
'Circus'.

And a 'Circus'

Cannot Be

a 'Zoo!'

http://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/102004121?q=circus&p=par
http://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/2001923?q=blind+guides&p=par








Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Their Path



Their Path...

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)


The path, sparsely covered in dried leaves
deceived me. Led me sweetly to the river.

Their screams suddenly I barely hear as
raging torrents carry them swiftly

away. I run to extend
a branch. My scarf. My hand.

"Not strong like a man, I can not
grasp...;"

yet immediately I understand
my danger.

They took these steps.

From where did they fall?
To where were they headed?

What tripped them up, all? I begin to wonder.

Thus I trek madly back to safety,
like thunder calling ahead for help
for their sad blunders.

Leaving behind slippery wanderings,
though through their voices I adhere;

Since from their terrors in me instilled...Fear.

Friday, August 21, 2015

Colors Confined Inside

Colors Confined Inside

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)


Yellow ... the morning.
Shiny.

Yes new.

Slowly creeps to orange
in meager attempts
to push through.

Flaming Autumns into Winters.
Frigid Winters into Spring.

Wishing to skip Summers
turning sunny days blue.

Green heats my cage.
Purple my bitter hue

when slapping at unhappiness
as loneliness grew wicked too.

Pink is like a promise
floating sparkles
to a star-filled sky.

Yet violet bursts the bubble.

And black

"I want to die."

Please return to me yellow.

Silence this:
my angry
cry.

Seah Greenhorn:

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

They've All Come Home

They've All Come Home

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)



We weaved him crowns
of roses round, the thorns removed
our love profound.

Our tears we cried
loud laughter heard, then silent we
now lost for words.

Tentatively we felt his flesh
searching limbs
for tortured signs.

Mom recalled his clothes
in crimson

not a chosen worn design.

Remembered names
like his in prison.
“Heil Hitler”
they refused to speak.

Then Willie stood staunch

beheaded.

His Faith
he then did keep.

But now we dance
since back together
sharing songs and breaking bread.

At my house in perfect weather.

Thankfully
no longer dead.

Based on John 5:28, 29.

To Live Nutritionally or To Die Deliciously?

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)


"Ah!

To
Die

Deliciously!"

Many
Happily

Chose.

As if 
Any
Nutrition

Whatsoever
would
Compromise

their
Joy
In Living.

All

Flavor
or
Color

in the World
they would

Distastefully

Lose.

Sadly,
Ignorance

through
Microwaved
Gratification

Leads
to

'No taste'

for 
Savory
Education.

Mass
Quantities

of

'Fast food'
Gobbled down

Senseless

Stifles

Developing/Enhancing
our
Created
Senses

for

Banquets
Carefully
Prepared

And

Even 
Delicacies

Internationally
Shared.

It

Dulls and Weighs
Down
a Lively
Imagination

and

It

Kills
Energetic
Sensations

Stimulating
A
Natural and Healthy

Desire

for a Long and Lovely
Life

of 
Timeless
Duration.

A diet of 
only
'Fast food'

While
Excitedly
'Tasty'

Only

Clogs the arteries. 
Promotes

A
Death

Hasty.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f2/42/22/f24222a883d9b142198ea5f9d60a4311.jpg

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Just Words?

Just Words?

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)


Are your words
Just words;

A fa├žade with no depth?

Whipped cream to hot cocoa--
A blissful moment;

In another second ... Suspect?

Are your words
Just words;

Or does your "yes" mean "yes"
And your "no" ... "no?"

Like red to "stop"
And green to "go."

Are your words
Just words;

As chaff on the wind?
(A wonderful sound and sight to behold.)

But not a staff for lean
To support a soul?

Are your words
Just words;

All smooth and then swerve;

Brilliant copper flexible to bend

And easy to curve,

With the bite of Death

When hit or unkindly lit...

The End?

Ah... You guessed it;

They were no friend.

Are your words
Just words;

Or can I stake my life

My future hope
On these to rely,

Though, so long ago spoken;

Though, so many, they die?

Are your words
Just words;

Not words to proclaim,

Causing pain and terror
for your own selfish gain?

When you promise

An end to war,

Are your words
Just words;

Or is your real purpose

True peace to restore?

An end to death;

Sickness, famine no more?

Are your words
Just words?

Or solid...A Rock
Or even a Door.

*

Well, in the words of a Dear Beloved Son
Whose life he gave for every faithful one:

"Your Word Is Truth."

No, not Just Words. . .

They provided the proof.

How True Is True; Yet, Truth IS Truth!

How True Is True; Yet, Truth IS Truth!

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)



No Trust in True;
but,

TOTAL in TRUTH!

How,
True Is True?

Yet,
TRUTH IS TRUTH!

*

Truth is Beautiful
Diamond-like Strong.

True?

Sometimes pretty;

in rain—maybe

gone.

His,
"Luv you!
Do!"
in moment—
is true.

Laid bare
your "alls;"

sadly,
ended with Lues.

His,
"What Is Truth?"

To
One
Born
PERFECT,

Flung

to cast
doubt


made
honest
hearted

STOP
To
REFLECT.

*

No Trust in True;
but,

TOTAL in TRUTH!

How
TRUE Is True?

Yet,
TRUTH IS TRUTH!

*

"This much is True,"

implies

a Lie;

MISLEADS

the many;

ALL

Deceived

to Die.

TRUTH

Leads

to

LIFE

FOREVER

GLORIOUS!

No
strife
on

This Land
CREATED

for US!

Man's hypocrisy—
is that
true
to you—

spontaneous

words;

NO
ACTIONS
DUE?

Must
Search
For TRUTH.

Possibly found.

For

ONLY

seekers

it’s all around.

*

No TRUST in True;
but,

TOTAL in TRUTH!

How,
TRUE is True?

HIS

WORD

IS

TRUTH!

Monday, August 17, 2015

look closely



look closely
by Seah Greenhorn


if she could feel

she would see
me

brewing
inside

her trashy cash
no need to hide

our home
this shamble

paints me
not
a sham

with

what life

a gamble
daily

moment to moment

even seconds may be
blessed

or a curse

for who is she
to place blame

around her tight world
my sins her heralds

when game after game
the same after the same

nightly

shameful

when will she stop

she won't

look closely

even
behind her

in her warped mirror

she'd be afraid

though wretched and poor
this specialty

I once abhorred

i found
in her drawer

this one too

PoPs!

https://mitalk.umich.edu/files/mitalk/field/image/2884484251_d4ae64ea58_o.jpg

Friday, August 14, 2015

Hopeful

Hopeful

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)





I reach for the switch
to vanquish my night.

Thought your love constant
would conquer this fright.

Instead the dread
continues to build

since lovers to enemies
melt golden shields

the value of which
no longer protects.

Every entry a shadow
to watch and suspect.

Oh...who can raise hope
in this doubtful soul

when peace has vanished
and violence grows bold?

Oh...who can still
these terrors within

when life has redefined
the definition of "friend?"

As I unfurl
my body today

from sheets too short
and shakes that fray

I wilt to my knees
and fervently pray...

Dear God...if you exist
and care as you say

Take away this desire
to end my life...

Help me be
and to then

Stay--

Hopeful.

Amen.

Micah 7