Summer Solstice

“Bend your ear down to the rail
If you think a train is coming.
You will hear a distant rumble,
Of the locomotive humming.”

“Place a penny on the track.
Lincoln’s face will get all squashed.”
Peanut butter lunchtime snack.
“Did your faces all get washed?”

Swimming at the local hole.
“Race you to the water dam!”
“Did you bring your fishing pole?”
“Looser is a big fat ham!”

Floating on an inner tube,
Fish are nibbling at the feet.
“Let’s go to the Dairy Queen,
And get us something good to eat!”

Skin stays flushed from sunburned skin,
Feet like leather from bare feet,
Playing with new friends and kin,
Summertime just can’t be beat!


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

The Special Secret Place

She lay quietly alone, waiting for the Spring;
A time when life begins again, and flowers sweetly sing.
Darkness cast about her now, she can barely see,
But she knows, her tethered soul, will once again be free.

It seems so long ago to her; trapped within her mind,
The gentle, playful banter of the wind for which she pines.
The bindings that now keep her here, frayed by her desire,
Soon will snap and let her go, releasing her heart’s fire.

Thru meadow land, she will race, to a special secret place;
An ivy gilded wonderland where love she first embraced,
A magically enchanted nook where she first saw his face,
Beside a gently babbling brook, with moss beneath like lace.

On Summer’s wings they both engaged for hours arm in arm.
When they were together she felt fully free from harm.
But Autumn’s cloak crept quickly in, and snow began to play;
And in foulest Winter known, her love, he passed away.

She lay quietly alone, waiting for the Spring;
A time when life begins again, and flowers sweetly sing.
Softly she hums their shared tune and kisses her gold ring;
Soon the special secret place will to her, lover bring.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Granular Mobility

I moved a grain of sand today;
The world was unimpressed.
Insignificant it lay;
Notoriety unstressed.

Perhaps again tomorrow’s day,
I will shift one more.
If I carry on this way,
Someone may implore.

If we then continue on,
With this steadfast style;
Others passing by may don,
Our method in short while.

Many souls may then unite,
Good change will thus ensue;
Together we can do it right,
Removing doubt as fuel.

In our world a lot can change,
Starting with one hand;
You need not move a mountain range,
Just a grain of sand.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

To Choose Wisely

The time has come to dig in deeply,
To our hearts we must be true.
If we pass out judgment cheaply,
Hardship will be our just due.

We are born where all are equal,
That is given as our right.
We must carry on a sequel,
That keeps lit our burning light.

When we choose who represents us,
Keep a blind eye turned away.
Our duty is to wisely choose, thus
Religion, race, and sex don’t play.

Take your time to weigh decisions,
Make up your own mind, be true.
It’s your birthright obligation,
And your children’s future too.

Ridicule you may sometimes meet dear,
Be strong, you are not alone.
One by one we’ll fend off our fear,
Together, let our hearts be known.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Its All There For The ASCII-ing

A man’s story page, spoke at eighty years of age:
“Sixty nine was fine”, he smiled, “That’s when I engaged”.
“A lovely woman just retired who was sixty five.”
“Her sixty seven family members kept me quite alive.”
“Sixty nine was fine”, he smiled again, “I was the rage”.

“Seventy nine was not so fine, that’s when she passed away.”
“If at seventy eight I’d known, I’d made her better way.”

“Sixty nine was special, my magic golden year.”
“I met my magic sixty five year old, who I hold dear.”
“At eighty two I will be blue, at night I’ll pace the floor.”
“To join her I’ll be waiting still, when I’m eighty four.”
“At seventy two, I somehow knew, she was all I’d adore.”

by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Megabyte Mama

Megabyte Mama got a super data-rama,
She loads her flash drive slickly sweet with kickin’ karma.
Gigabyte Gus is who she’ll meet out on the bus,
Together splitting headphones they’ll groove without a fuss.

Terrabyte Tim has a view of Gus quite dim,
He thinks that Mama’s rama oughta be a part of him.
Deviously he plots, a tightly laid plan;
Gigabyte Gus will soon be in the can.

In the school yard where they’re rockin’ music hard,
Tim recruits Frank who has twenty flashin’ cards.
Together they meander near the couple soon to part,
Flashy Frank gets ready, paying for his shopping cart.

Terrabyte begins the fight, tossing Gus’s pod from sight,
Mama takes up Giga’s right; No one sees the Flash alight.
In two nanoseconds dropped,
Franky makes the memory swap.

When the tuff is over the young couple sits to rest,
Gigabyte Gus puts his player to the test.
Mega’s face begins to sour at the polka played,
Breaking up is now her thought and decision made.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Make Our Children Winners

Many people do not care that warming weather comes our way,
Nor that many unique species never here again will stay.
The world keeps going bent on living only as they wish,
Selfishly they churn out poisons,
Our children’s future final dish.

A sewage pool of chemistry waits stealthy in our soil,
Mounds of plastic and its makings, death from chemistry and oil.
Thickly fumes from autos fill our air in brownish clouds,
Everyone quite happily shares this filth to make our shroud.

Blindly many follow common practice just like sheep,
It’s easier just to wallow than to make a mental leap.
But two and two it comes to four despite the media spinners,
The choice is ours to decide who will be the winners.

All of us are important, we must play a greater part,
Every single action taken must be weighed and be made smart.
Remember babies in your arms, and set a better path,
Keep them safely, free from harm,
And never let them feel the wrath,

Of the foolish deeds we’ve done.
Please let them always see the sun.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Stay Me From Stone

Touch me my love,
The way that you do,
Tender and sweet,
Delight me all through.

Stroke my hand softly,
Make my heart yearn,
Bless me with loving,
Help me to learn.

Take hold of me gently,
And give me a kiss.
Send me deep into,
Eternal bliss.

Tease me a little,
With your deep sighs,
Show me forever,
Your sunshine eyes.

Please never leave me,
Forgot and alone,
My mind and emotion,
Would turn into stone.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Black-Eyed Susan

Black eyed Susan hides her face ashamed.
She’d rather stay at home alone,
And suffer through the pain.

Her husband strikes and then tries to atone,
Promising not to hit again,
This time he broke her bones.

Her friends try telling her she ought to end,
A marriage years in making,
But she knows not how or when.

Her heart hurts more than her body aching,
“Once last time”, she tells herself,
Yet can’t control the flood of tears or her body shaking.

The coroner puts her cold body on the shelf,
He wonders why another victim had to die.
“Why did she not care more for herself?”

As he shuts the drawer the world again begins to cry.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Technologic Terza Rima

I bit a byte,
Not a nyble,
Chewing right.

Can you quibble
The result,
Was it drivel?

Don’t insult
My direction,
Just exalt.

This reflection
Of my logic,
Stands inspection.

Technologic
Terza rima,
Analogic.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Elemental Knowledge

I know you as I know the wind;
Occasionally obscure,
Sometimes softly sensual,
Always, ardently alive.

I know you as I know the sea;
Boundlessly beautiful,
Shores seductively stirring,
Ever, endlessly enchanting.

I know you as I know the sun;
Faithfully forever,
Saffron skies suggestive,
Warmly, watching wise.

I know you as I know the earth;
Mystically majestic,
Sheltering safely, stated,
Lastingly, loving life.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

The Mother Of All Dust Bunnies

I really had no notion that I’d need a magic potion
When the bed began to shake and make terrific motion.
As you can imagine, it was much to my surprise,
When underneath the mattress I saw two big beady eyes.

Bolting straight upright like a thief caught in the light,
I scrambled for a weapon; There was sure to be a fight.
Grabbing hold a heavy book I cautioned yet another look
And again the bed it shook; from my chest my breath it took.

Suddenly, wailing broke, the eardrums of this frightened bloke
And my sheets became quite soaked; I knew this was no joke.
Realizing it was my scream and that this was no bad dream,
I gathered all my wits together for a charge supreme.

Bounding right up off the cot, five feet from the very spot
Where I saw the ugly sot, I landed with my throat a knot.
“Come out!”, I tried to yell at the intruder ‘neath my bed;
Not a sound came from him and the air was eerie dead.

The skirt I lifted bravely now, expecting to get in a row
But then I shouted, “Holy Cow!”, and a quiet, “Wow!”
My heart slowed down from it’s fast pace …
The Mother Of All Dust Bunnies, stared, right into my face.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Constipated Couch Potato

He sits all day just watching shows upon the TV tube,
If you were to look at him he’d hardly seem to move.
Spending all his time just eating popcorn, dips and chips,
The biggest muscles on him are the ones upon his lips.

His girlfriend gripes he didn’t used to be a man this way,
He’d pamper her all night and he’d work throughout the day.
But now to lift a finger takes an act of Congress passed,
She wishes he’d get off his lazy no good fat ole mass.

She’d like to go and dance a bit, have some fun and cheer,
Sadly all he thinks about is finding his next beer.
The smells he makes are noxious and they chase the dog away,
An odor lingers ‘round his couch, in the foulest way.

He whoops and yells at silly men who chase some stupid ball,
The neighbors are not happy and they bang on the thin walls.
Now he never gets to bed because of his big pouch,
Instead he falls asleep and snores real loud out on the couch.

Worst of all he has complaints and becomes frustrated,
Because his lack of movement made him very constipated.
The moral of this poem is that you better get a life,
Before you end up on a table under doctor’s knife.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Dreams of America VII: Semper Fi

Scott came home, he paid his dues;
A country served, a hero true.
His pretty wife, boys four and two,
greeted him; his life anew.

Innocent, he left to fight,
For God and Country, as was right.
Now at home, kept out of sight,
The harrowed dreams, release at night.

His wife knows well, disturbance dwells,
But never will he share and tell.
The pain he carries often wells,
He must protect them from his hell.

Scott knows that she can’t understand,
What he saw in foreign land.
Her world untarnished, it must stand,
Free from impact of the sand.

There’s more than what you could conceive,
That is paid for liberty,
Unspoken, pained, our soldiers see,
That truly, you are always free.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Drugs Are For Cowards And Wimps

A real man works hard and suffers a bit,
But you will not hear him throw a big fit,
A real woman labors and does not complain,
From - self-pity - she’ll always refrain.

Drugs are for cowards and wimps.

Real women and men, will try things again,
Not making excuses or hiding just when,
Things start to get tough, they know life is rough,
They learn how to deal with the difficult stuff.

Drugs are for cowards and wimps.

Excuses are easy, and plentiful too,
And chemicals are so easy to do.
They feel good at first and make you feel well,
Then suddenly your life is a living hell.

Drugs are for cowards and wimps.

They need not hide from life’s dark side,
Real women and men face life side by side.
They do what it takes, and make some mistakes,
But keep on trying for their family’s sakes.

Drugs are for cowards and wimps.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

My Lady True

In a vision’s luminescent dream I saw you first,
Naïve was I, to this blessing, cast on innocent eyes,
A dream, I thought, to quench my heart’s sad forlorn thirst,
Grandest wonder ‘fore me, little did I know what lies.

You came to me adorned in brunette bonnet hair held high,
Splendid smiles subtly hidden, beckoning my gaze,
Venus trapped in human form, that for which men vie,
Sublime stature speaking sultry softness soon to stay.

Firstly teasing, playful taunting, coyness came your way,
To which inside you hid delight at flirting now converse,
Enchanted both we came together by this tender play,
As lovers we became enamored, adoringly immersed.

Still today, my lady true, you grace my life so sweet,
Not a moment’s passed us by which I would not repeat.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Introspect Justly

My soul be mute and deaf and blind,
So I see no different kind,
Fairly then I say to all,
That no judgment you will find.

But my senses do reflect,
Thus now I must use intellect,
To remedy my senses’ call,
And give another their respect.

Each we must persist you see,
To find our commonality,
Or least we suffer some great fall,
The loss of our humanity.

Warily ponder what you know,
How is it that these facts are so?
Is it truth or veil or shawl,
Evidence is not your foe.

Weigh well the given circumstance,
Is there due significance?
When you take in what is all,
Life will surely be enhanced.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Play I Now In Winter's Snow

Sweet succulent childhood days,
Buoyant hair swept by the summer breeze,
Imagination delighted by countless fantasies,
Experiencing new things a thousand different ways.

You left me long ago,
And did not stay to play,
Instead, you simply, ran away.
Alone I wandered life’s stark show.

Now as time draws nigh,
And I face my time to go,
You come back to me, rightly so,
To ease my journey passing by.

Sweet dreamy childhood days, quite old I am but now I know,
That you were waiting patiently to play in Winter’s snow.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Mantra of the Missing Mussing: Chastising the Censor

Phantom creeper full of rage,
Why’d you steal my poetry page?
Was it caused by misplaced fear,
Did I touch on something dear?

Should a poet be the sleuth,
And figure out when not to goof,
Or should they speak out from the heart,
And hope to goodness they don’t – uhmm – smart.

As a poet I stop shames,
By making sure I don’t name names,
So if per chance my lines ‘bout you,
I swear I certainly meant not to.

I speak in general of time’s bodes,
Not about some silly toad,
If I happen to offend,
I’d wonder ‘bout you, really friend.

Take a chill you silly ones,
Ego makes you not have fun?
Lighten up or so they say,
And learn to love, It’ll make your day!

by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Dreams of America VI: A Tribute To Our Teachers

She looks out on the class room wide,
Bringing hope from deep inside;
For every soul, in every seat -
“Please keep their spirits from defeat.”
For those she’s lost, she has cried.

Bright young faces full of dreams,
Smiling like intense sun beams.
Challenges ‘fore her she must meet,
Not to loose them to the streets.
A daunting task, it sometimes seems.

Throughout the day and into night,
Passionately working to make things right,
Through winter’s chill, and summers heat,
She must protect, she won’t be beat.
Their future weighs on her foresight.

Though pay is poor and tributes few,
She knows her efforts will début,
By stopping tragedy’s harsh repeat,
Some lives saved; her prayers’ entreat.
Failing dreams can live anew.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Dreams of America V: Dan's Dispair Turned Strength

Dan was a tradesman who worked by the hour,
Like thousands of others his job did go sour,
The changing times caught him in its wave,
Now there are new paths that must be paved.
He is not one to whimper and cower.

A family to feed and rent to pay,
Dan works two jobs, one night and one day.
What extra money there is to save,
Can not be had, least the budget be shaved.
He knows he must find a much better way.

Training for new work, difficult at best,
What time he does have, is taken from rest.
He knows he must, be strong and be brave,
Or spend life working as somebody’s knave.
So weary he can’t see, he takes his next test.

He is one of America’s strengths,
Like countless around him, he strives at great lengths,
Life, liberty, and happiness are craved,
Through centuries of stark change, spirits unstaved.
Vast are the millions who wish to give thanks.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Dreams of America IV: Tea Time Dispair

The chatter of ladies filled up the air,
Tea was in plenty and nothing was spared,
Posh was the hotel, all things were neat,
Exquisitely placed on Potomac’s seat.
Wit and good manners, words craftily cared.

“Oh my, good gracious. Have you not heard?”
“The polls are now showing the other’s preferred!”
“How do you think that they managed that feat?”
“The Congress, now Senate, they’re up by one seat!”
The ladies continued fore now they were lured.

“Why must they put on such a great fuss?”
“They were not born here. They’re nothing like us.”
“Did you see Dee Dee, her dress is quite sweet,”
“But haven’t we seen those shoes on her feet.”
No one paid heed to the staff who did bus.

“I think I’ll go to Barbados to shop,”
“Wednesday is good, it’s just a short hop.”
“Thank you but please don’t save me a seat,”
“William and I are gone on retreat.”
You’d swear you heard Nero fiddle non-stop.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Dreams of America III: Jay's Dispair

Jay fills another form out for a job,
From McDonalds to Wendys and then on to Bob’s,
His feet have been hurting from walking the roads,
He used to make autos, now hunger bodes.
They hocked all their jewelry, even Dad’s fob.

“Hush now my babies, Dad is not far,”
“We will be fine if we stay in the car.”
“Just snuggle in blankets to keep out the cold,”
“Take the quilt there, the one that I sewed.”
“Here are some peaches.” – ‘From our last jar’.

Jay returns head down, no one will hire,
They have no insurance, it has expired.
All of their money went to what was owed,
Finally evicted, “Return not.” they’re told.
Homeless with wife and children he sired.

‘My parents and theirs made me believe,’
‘A job in the plant would be good indeed.’
‘I have no skills but to lift and to load,’
‘Now I have nothing, I paid what was owed.’
Another lost family, passed through the sieve.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Dreams of America II: Johnny's Dispair

Johnny works steady, he toils the earth,
Bringing forth food from the place of his birth,
Often long hours, an non-ending rite;
His future lay ‘fore him, the Heartland, his might.
Hard work, he’s told, will give him his worth.

Dinner is lain, by Sue with good care,
He and his family sit down for a prayer;
“Please Lord deliver us, from our bad plight,”
“We always are thankful and do things just right.”
The bankers still hound, to their despair.

Father before him, and Dad’s father too,
From a long line of farmers, of which now are few,
Wheat fields and corn stalks reach far out of sight,
Folks and their children start working first light.
“I hear there are migrants coming, of which we should rue.”

Mothers are worried, the kids do not stay,
“We used to have family, it’s no longer this way.”
“The Heartland is changing, our budgets are tight,”
“Big business has robbed us like thieves in the night.”
Family run farming is passing away.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Dreams of America: Jesus's Dispair

Jesus lives simply, a soul of the streets,
Staying in shadows and looking to eat;
Life is not easy, in fact it is hard,
From countless places, often he’s barred.
Never he knows who next he might meet.

Scavenging trash bins just to survive,
Somedays he feels just barely alive;
Scars cross his cheek, slightly they mar,
The child who once played out in the yard.
He longs for his family from which he was rived.

Sleeping by parapets, a bridge or a door,
Sometimes good fortune allows him a floor;
By officers stick, often he’s jarred,
“Come back whenever you get a green card.”
From abuse that he’s suffered he often wakes sore.

Jobs come quite paltry, often for naught,
Afraid to steal something in case he gets caught;
He’s never had the chance to get fired,
No one will take him, he never gets hired.
“This land is not the life that I sought”.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater

Forever Here To Stay

I place my kisses on the wind in hopes they will find you,
Through thickly wooded dale and broadly open sea,
When they find you, you will know, that they came from me,
As they gently caress your lips, know my heart be true;
And never will I love another true as I love you.

There’s a star I know you see when looking out at night,
I reach my hand out to it hoping your hand touches mine,
Transcending the known universe to share a place and time,
And hold you in my arms until the early morning light,
Knowing our love’s meant to be and always shall be right.

Stay well my love as you travel through your journey’s way,
Please let my spirit’s presence guard you from unknown foe,
And give you strength to carry on wherever you may go,
Always keeping you from harm throughout your distant days,
Until you come back to me love, forever here to stay.


by Rodney Alan Crater
Copyright ©2007 Rodney Alan Crater