Saturday, September 11, 2004

On this day, September 11th, of all days:

Turn Away Cold Voices...

Close your ears,
Listen to the heartbeat of Earth,
Close your ears,
Feel the touch of love and all it's dear worth,
Close your ears and see clear and clean,
Close your heart,
To the siren of the war machine,
Turn away cold voices,
Leave heartache far away in the dark,
Turn away cold voices,
Forget to fan the spark,
Let not the liars tell you,
That death becomes them,
For no heart that beats,
Should by any man's hand end,
Turn away cold voices,
Cause not any river of tears,
Turn away cold voices,
Full of hatred, lies, and unjust fears,
Hold out your hand in kindness,
Together love this Earth,
Turn away cold voices,
And remember the measure of your worth.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 04/24/2002

The Thorn Of Crowns:

One doesn't need to be crucified to die on the inside,
Heavy responsibility is not always easy to bear,
Temptation can blind you at times,
And losing you objectivity can be worse than being blind.

The sepia tones of old photographs can't hold you at night.

Never forget those times you cried,
And how they came about,
Remember the times you smiled,
And what gave those smiles birth.

Everyone has those moments in greater or lesser degree.

Even if you are King of the World,
You can't eat diamonds and emeralds,
And fast cars and jets can carry away,
Just as easily as to.

You could be haunted even on yacht at sea under forever stars.

Think about it,
Will the world truly have been better for you having walked it,
Even just one little bit,
The sum answers of that question alone are set in stone.

The true bits of gold carried by men.

When power comes upon you,
And you've walked the the halls of rulers,
Lying with a rattle in your throat,
As the angels gather round you,

Was the life you wore torn useless by the Thorn of Crowns?


By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/15/2004

Author's Comments:
I think most people will understand.

Return My Colors:

I saw them waving in the breeze,
Those threads and dyes of freedom,
Pursuit of life, of liberty, of happiness,
Red of courage,
White of purity,
Blue of truth,
They stand for freedom,
They do not belong,
Upon the collars of intolerance,
Upon the poles where heads hang,
In the circle of a lake of tears,
In the halls where our lives are pried open,
Like a clamshell overfed on statute pages.

I want my colors back.

I want those colors to bring tears,
Because they mean a home where one is soveriegn,
Upon the lands we've worked to earn,
Where spies are some dark shadows across oceans,
Or figments in story books,
And no one is disappeared without a trace,
Just upon the say-so of fear's hounds.

I want my colors back,
To wear with pride,
Because they represent a place of good hearts,
And live as you are.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/28/2003

Author's Comments:
Our rights and liberties are critical to the character and identity of this country. There is no place on Earth like this place was just two and a half years ago. I want that place back, and the colors that go with it.

Walking The Needle:

We all must face a darkness today,
As a world and as a nation,
For the man-made shadow cast yesterday,
And that just a cumulation of many all over the world,
And as our hearts are torn with rage and grief,
We must remember that we are moral beings,
And that wanton retaliation is no such thing as moral,
And we must remember that violence only breeds violence,
And insanity does not bring death to life,
For how many bombs have been thrown in truth by whom?

We all must face a darkness today,
As a person and as a human being,
For the manmade shadow we contemplate casting today,
And that just an addition to those all over the world,
And as our hearts are torn with rage and grief,
We must remember that we are moral beings,
And that much of what races in our minds is not,
For long after we extend our hands in violence,
We will remember that we were amoral beings,
And ultimately the cost is a ticker tape of blood spots,
And shadows upon more souls.

We all must face a darkness today,
And wonder how to bring back the Sun,
And in no way can I poor poet that I am,
Give out the definitive answer,
For I must face a darkness today,
Staring at the fires within my own heart,
And perhaps that is a good place for each of us to start.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/12/2001

By Candle Lit Tears:

You see a soft yellow glow everywhere now,
Millions of points of gentle light at night,
All over this vast land with a common heartbeat,
And the faces may change but not so the tears,
You will know if you look and see,
Down from up above where you are now,
Your gift is remembered well,
The one you didn't know you would give,
As you left for your work and errands on that fateful day,
But you will know it if you look,
Not by the words of angels or historians,
Though those may come your way,
No, you will know it if you look,
By the rivers of candle lit tears.


By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/17/2001

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

There will be no further posts today in remembrance of the people and cherished intangible treasures that were damaged on this day in 2001.