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News- Page 2
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Poetry : The Pebble
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Posted by sylvia on Sunday, October 24, 2004 (21:43:06)
By Brian Henson
He went to the brook and he found a wee pebble,
But could not quite throw it, as others would throw.
The pebble was bigger than his thumb, but jagged.
He found it so vibrant, he could not let it go.
But how could he keep it, this wonder before him?
It had no "life" to it; this was just a "rock".
But he was attracted to it beyond "reason";
It was his one focus each moment 'round clock.
But others began to tease him to the limit:
They said he had taken his rock as "pet";
And they would go further, and call him just "crazy",
But not put a finger on him, as of yet...
But he was determined to live out his own life,
As he was not just but a slave for the crowd,
And when he was jeered at, and labelled as "mental",
He called his defenses, and showed he was proud.
But this did not stop them, the jerks and the bullies,
From throwing their weight right against him, with shame,
'Cause all that they knew was that they had to beat him,
As knocking him down was the name of the game.
But he still found strength in that little wee pebble,
And would not cave in to these bullies, no way;
And now he's enjoying his life to the fullest,
With his fascination--this rock,.... to this day!
Brian Henson ©2004
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Read More... | 2 comments |   |
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Poetry : A View of the Horizon
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Posted by Sylvia on Friday, April 16, 2004 (20:20:19)
By Brian Henson
Although the sun is out today
As west winds come from far away,
I think I'll go down to the bay
To see a far horizon.
The sky is clear; the wind is light;
E'en though it was quite cool last night,
But I need some of that deep light
From far away horizon.
The world's in turmoil in the news;
It gives one shivers, sweats, and blues,
But it all disappears with hues
From far away horizon.
There's much to do as time rolls on,
And though I felt the dew at dawn,
I still must set my eyes upon
The far away horizon.
As children play on distant beach,
And adults are in school to teach,
I find my eyes will yearn to reach
The far away horizon.
It matters not what age or race,
Nor gender, language, work, or pace,
I must prepare to now embrace
The far away horizon.
As sea meets sky, a bond is sewn
With ev'ry creature, ev'ry stone,
And I know that I'm not alone
Against the far horizon.
Brian Henson ©2000
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Read More... | 3 comments | |
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Poetry : Autistic Eddie
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Posted by Sylvia on Friday, March 26, 2004 (16:49:52)
By Brian Henson
There was a kid named Eddie
Who had a little bout
Of autism, ...but to his folks,
There wasn't any doubt.
His parents were so proud of him,
And saw his savant skills,
Although he was a wee bit wild;
It was a test of wills.
Would they win out in training him
To be like normal child?
Or would he show them he's the boss,
With temper, strong and wild?
He went to school, and got his grades,
But couldn't find no friends
Or buddies to share chats with him
And help him 'round life's bends.
This Ed, so disillusioned, that
About the time he's ten,
He would imagine heaven's gate,
To start his life again!
But on the note of his strong ways,
He knew 'bout every train,
And railway track laid down on earth;
(They said he'd gone insane!)
He didn't care just what they felt,
As he had his work cut
Right out for him, and he would show
No "if", or "and", or "but".
Ed tabled in his mind all routes,
And schedules as well;
He saw them all, each train world-wide,
With touch and feel and smell...
This train obsession got so deep,
His school work fell right off,
Until one day when he got one
Deep cold and lasting cough.
'Twas then he found that trains don't do
Quite everything he thought,
And soon he went from trains to health,
This change was quite a lot!
But others still found Ed quite hard
To chat with every day,
As all he talked about was health,
From gluton through to whey.
When others started to avoid
Ed's sheer persistent ways,
He found himself alone, not just
For hours, but for days.
Ed could not understand why he
Was always left outside
The "group", and he began to fear
Their ways, and he would hide
Himself from others, lest this "group"
Tell him a thing or two.
This fear would lead Ed far away
From friends, but one ...or two.
An adult now, this Eddie still
Can't understand why he
Is still shunned by the "group" so much,
At university.
He still wants friends, but doesn't know
Quite just how to explain
To others how he wants to be
Their friend; it's so much pain
For him, that he is still alone,
But for a friend ...or two,
And that's were he's in such a maze:
Will dear Ed e'er get through?
Brian Henson ©2004
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Read More... | 3 comments | |
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Poetry : Peers Unpressured
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Posted by Sylvia on Wednesday, March 03, 2004 (09:24:37)
By Brian Henson
"Why, he was only teasin'! (cheers!)".
That was a lame excuse
For all the fancy words and jeers
Amounting to abuse.
"But this is not abuse!" they said,
"It's just his way to chat!"
To me, his self-esteem was dead,
And he was just a brat.
"Why don't the two of you begin
As pals and have some fun?"
Why, that would be far worse than sin
(Like loading up a gun!).
All I could do is but escape
From this horrific bribe,
Like some domesticated ape
Escaping from a tribe.
But once I got away, I felt
Relieved and tired out;
I would not have to take the belt,
Or feel the gruesome clout...
Brian Henson ©2004
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Read More... | 2 comments | |
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