silent voices

I’m writing this poem for all of you, cause true
Poets are far from few.
A true poet writes about every day life
The joys , the loves , the sacrifice.
There is not a topic they will not touch . Because
Life gives us “ oh so much “.

Each poem is like a wave beating against the beach
Touching anyone that it can reach.
It can be as smooth as glass , and tell your stories
Of the present or past, and most of us have gone
Thru love , joy , sorrow ,bitterness and hate
And other things in which we can relate.

We become the eyes and voices of the silent ones
Who are afraid to speak “ cause they feel they are weak “
We see their tears , we feel their pain , but in silence they remain.
A true poet tells what others do not , and they’ll continue to write
“ they will not stop “.
© L . RAMS 082017


my search is over

I have searched my world over for a person such as you
To make me feel the way that you do .
I was like a honey bee filling up its hive , and taking
Nectars from each flower so that I could thrive.
I got tired of looking for love in all the wrong places
And seeing the same old familiar faces’
They can’t see that you’d like to settle down
And have your own kids running around.
Well look no further and have some faith
This is where you’ve met your mate.
Just tell me you love me , tell me you care
Tell me you need me and I’ll be there.
I have loved you for oh so long , and with you
Is where I belong.
There is not a river , nor an ocean or a mountain
That I would not swim or climb , just to know
That you are mine.
I need you like the earth needs the rain
You’re the only one that can take away this pain.
Now you know that I can no longer hide , this hunger
That I have locked up inside.

© L . RAMS 080517

remembering the sixties

We all have a lifetime of memories , some bad , some good
Some we’d change if we could.
Like the passing of a loved one that left us behind
Yet we still see their face in our mind.
A joke , a laughter , a smile or two
These are things that we once knew.
Going to a party or a community dance and wearing
Those Bell Bottom pants.
We are now called Baby Boomers from the sixties
Who got high on Acid , Pot and Whiskey.
You could find pot everywhere , and people were willing to share.
Then came the biggest event of that time “ WOODSTOCK “
Where everyone got blind.
There was flower power and protesters against the Vietnam war
And many draftees ran to the Canadian shores.
I was still in the Army in 63 and to Birmingham Alabama
Is where they would send me .
The desegregation had just begun and the Alabama governor was on the run.
Twice he tried and twice he failed and had his head between his tail.
This was the time that the sixties went into the history books
And all the lives that it took.
In August of 62 Marilyn Monroe died
In November of 63 it was JFK who w0as assassinated
In April of 68 it was Martin Luther King assassinated
In June of 68 it was Robert F . Kennedy assassinated
Then came Woodstock art and music festival 8/15-8/19/69
I recall in the villages of lower Manhattan when coffee shops
Were filled with beatnik poets with their beards and long hair
And their music and poetry they was willing to share.
Times were so much different then . where you would meet
Someone and they would become your friend.
Now I leave this thought to you “ remembering the sixties “
Is a dream come true.
© L . RAMS 071817

fire in the sky

there is a fire in the sky which is orange and white and the blue to create this site.
just like the fires that burn on the ground
but without the dangers , without the sounds.

this fire was created by a hand from above,
given to us with tenderness and love.
this beauty so rich, so rare that with us
he had to share.
as I walk and look around at all the beauties that I’ve found, like the mountains, the rivers valleys and streams and the trees and grass so green
animals and creature of every kind and the birds that are flying high.
the beauty of a rainbow after the rain, and no two colors ever the same.

yes ! there is a fire in the sky
and it was made for you and I.
(C) L. RAMS 070917

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in search of peace within

Angels of God take my hand and show me the way
Put me in Gods path so I will not stray.
I felt his presence when I called out his name
I knew then my life would forever change.
I felt a tingling sensation and my hairs stood on end
He is my God , my Savior , my Friend.
He comes to me in my times of need , and on
His strength I do feed.
I looked to the skies and then to the ground
And gave thanks for the beauties I have found.
All my friends and family are near , and with them
Gods love we share
The path of hypocrisy is all around , just turn
And look around.
People have lost faith in their fellow man
And the politicians promises have gotten out of hand
They are in need of something in which to believe
But long before these politicians , God had planted his seeds.
Let us not let them govern our lives and give us the
crumbs from their plates , and try to break our spirits
And our faith.
The riches are not here on this earth , for we cannot
Take it with us when we die – the riches are in Gods
Heavens , where material things are not needed
And don’t exist .
Your search of peace within is in your grasp and
With GOD it will forever last.

( Do you have clothes on your back and have food to eat ?
Do you have a job and or your health and family or friends ?
Because if you do , then you are rich beyond a politicians
Expectations . You see we can learn to live in their world
But they will not survive in our world of struggles and strife once their wealth is gone.)

Regain your faith – it’s never too late !
© L . RAMS 012017

saint peter at the gate

Saint Peter was at the gate to welcome me in
As an angelic choir sang a glorious hymn
There was so many different shades of green that
On earth had never been seen
Shades of blues , whites and reds , to dazzle
Your eyes and your head.

I walked around in complete awe. And meeting
family members I had never seen before
They knew everything about me from my birth
The good , the bad , and all it s worth.
Every one of our lives was put on a screen
So our lives could be seen.

As I looked behind me , I could see all the
Members of our family tree
It was like looking at a television with channels
And volumes – and I was the remote with the power
To look at each one and what they had gone through
In their life , before they came to GODS paradise.

Then came Saint Peters voice like a gentle wind
Welcoming all the new comers in.
“ welcome my brothers and sisters to Paradise
You are all here because you led a decent life “
All of heaven is covered in white for JESUS purity
And sacrifice .

All of GODS creations are here for you to see.
You can swim with the dolphins or play with a deer
For all the animals from earth are all right here.
Every creature is as gentle as can be , and are
Waiting for your company

up or down- i cannot say

If you are reading this :
It’s because I ‘ve gone to the other side
‘there is no elevator around , so I don’t
Know if I’ve gone up or down!
But I am seeing some forms through a cloudy mist
Is it family members that I have missed ? – or is it the ghouls from hell s past
Ready and waiting to grab my ass !
Is that the grim reaper all dressed in black ?
With a sickle tied to his back.
Isn’t that Saint Peter walking by his side , and his wings he’s trying to hide.
It doesn’t matter which one is coming after me
I have walked with both you see !
If I go up , I’ll be with the ones I love
And if I go down below – I won’t be singing ho-ho-ho.
Regrets ! I always said I would have none
Decisions I’ve made can not be undone.
Women in my life – I had my share
But when it came to my love- none can compare.
To the women in my family with my love I’d share
I grew up feeling forlorn and rejected by my fellow man
And people I spoke with did not understand.
People all around me and I still felt by myself
Looking for acceptance from others including
My family of sisters and brothers.
I had seen so much death during my childhood years
That I learned to accept it and not to fear.
A five year old girl who drowned in the Indian Lake,
A superintendent killing another one over a broom
A junkie overdosing with a needle in his arm
It became like living on a death farm.
Joining street gangs just to survive and on each other we did rely.
Seeing the hypocrisy in so many faces and of them
Waiting for the sneak attack to put the knife in your back.
So I created my own philosophy of : “ friends I don’t have any
Acquaintances many .”
Joined the Army to get away cause in New York I could not stay.
Left at the induction center by my so called friends
Who would go in when my tour was at the end .
They was going to “NAM” when I was back in the states
They should have gone in with me , but now it’s too late
A couple came back but they were never the same
They themselves are the ones to blame.
I disassociated myself from every one that I knew
( what was I supposed to do ? )
The 60 s was a bad time with civil unrest
And Vietnam putting us to a test.
Many were moving to Canada to avoid the draft
In hopes that the war would not last.
We now had flower power , hippies and acid to get high
And Woodstock became the pie in the sky.
All you could see for miles around , was pup tents and vans , and
People getting down.
Girls having sex where ever you would go
Even with people that they didn’t know.
Hippie communes were being created , by drugged
Out minds that were devastated.
Am I writing this , before I am dead or are
These the thoughts stuck in my head ?
© L , RAMS 032616