With all this furor over emails
And the debating who, is right
How can anybody question
That we all face a real plight?

Our political persuasion
Or position, rich or poor
Should not, make a difference
We should all, try to do more.

The ice is disappearing
And the oceans on the rise
Drought and crops are failing
And less ozone in our skies.

Caused by Man or Nature?
Greenhouse effect from CO2?
From El Niño or La Niña?
Could they all be lies, or true?

It’s beyond comprehension
Some think, we don’t leave our brand
With our burning fossil fuels
As we desecrate the Land.

We pollute our precious water
Fish our oceans to the brink
Don’t worry as the Polar Bear
Is about to become, extinct.

Big polluters fight the change
Because, they don’t really care
Their bottom line is all that matters
They don’t want to do their share.

It’s the almighty dollar
Which will rule, in this fight
Unless the people of the World
Demand, we all do, what’s right.

It surely won’t hurt anything
If we at least, try to change our fate
Though, it might not make a difference
Because, it may already be too late.

Del “Abe” Jones
12.11.2009

Some say we should send more
There’s those say, we shouldn’t
Some think we can win this war
And others say, we couldn’t.

Eight years in, too many killed
Without any success, shown
Back at square one, where we started
Something, we should have known?

The plight of Women an excuse
To give them rights and dignity
While we have our own here at home
Who still aren’t completely free.

The children are another reason
To feed them and send to school
With all the kids on our own streets
Hypocrisy?  Wonder who we fool ?

Our Troops walk past the Poppy fields
And it just doesn’t seem quite fair
While here at home, we put in jail
Folks, who use those drugs from there.

Do they really want their freedoms
Will it last, when we have gone
Can we really change their ways
Or will their hate for us, live on?

Can we actually stop the terrorists
If they are determined, will they fear
Our wrath, there in their mountains
When they can cross our borders, here?

Every time we kill or capture one
There are many more waiting in line
To be martyrs, for all those virgins
Who think their death, will be divine.

Corruption in their government?
What difference does it really make
When we have our own politicians
Who like them, are on the “take”?

Of course, it would be so nice
To stop this awful human scourge
But those animals won’t go extinct
With just, another senseless surge.

No matter, how much they spin it
And ask us, once more for our trust
Can we believe it’s the best way
And the loss of precious life, is just?

We should spend all those dollars here
And save some lives at the same time
Try, getting our own house in order
And instead of war, try some peacetime.

Del “Abe” Jones
12.04.2009

Almost forty-three hundred killed
Since we invaded in two thousand three
Thirty two thousand plus, wounded
But maybe, with an end in sight, to see.

There’s so many hurting families
Whose lives have changed forever more
Sons and Daughters who lost Parents
To the cruel, ravages of war.

Since our Country was founded
One and one quarter million lost
In all of those many battles fought
It’s sad, what our Freedom has cost.

We have this one day to Honor them
All of those Heroes who gave their all
Who rallied ’round our Countries Flag
As they answered, our Nations call.

War has always been the human way
(You would think we had more sense)
Sometimes used for man’s aggression
And sometimes used for his defense.

If we ever hope to have a future
On this small planet where we live
We must all learn to live together
And find more compassion to give.

We build those monuments to war
And for all of those who died
Someday, we could build some for Peace
If we, really, truly tried.

But, looks like there’s not much hope
Unless we change our minds and ways
And we’ll always mourn more lost
On too many, Memorial Days.

Del “Abe” Jones
05.20.2009

Men and Women buried here
Who gave their all for you and me
In Iraq and Afghanistan
So that, others, might be Free.

Row after row of headstones
Where friends and families grieve
They pay respects and say a prayer
There’s some, don’t want to leave.

Some will place a memento
For their Hero, neath the ground
And far too often, during the day
Hearing “Taps”, a mournful sound.

The white stones bear their Name
Rank and Branch and conflict Served
The dates of Birth and Death
And the Citations, they deserved.

Maybe, a symbol for their Faith
Something, etched above their name
But no matter what, their beliefs
They’re all treated just the same.

Once, Comrades in Battle
And now, resting neath that stone
Forever with, those other Heroes
So, they will never be alone.

Section Sixty, just a small part
Of this sacred, hallowed ground
But, each plot a special place
Where, a Hero may be found.

They all are in good company
Two hundred sixty thousand souls
Buried here at Arlington
Some young, with unfulfilled life goals.

All Served our Country selflessly
And they all deserve our praise
We should, remember them and thank them
Not just, only on, these holidays.

Del “Abe” Jones
05.23.2009

“Mankind’s greatest accomplishment is not the revolution of technology it is the evolution of creativity ” copyright Del “Abe” Jones 1984

I could see the flash of cannon
Over the ridge of the hill
Could hear the shots over my head
As I lay deathly still.

I looked up at the twinkling stars
Through the haze of the gunsmoke
And I could hear my comrades
Whispering as they spoke.

There was a quaking in their voice
That betrayed their mortal fear
And as I gazed into the sky
I asked, “What am I doing here?”

I thought of all those buddies
Killed on this foreign shore
And of loved ones back home
And then, I knew, “What for!”

To fight for God and Country
Is a calling, most will heed
To keep freedom safe from those
Who would plant an evil seed.

I lay there in my foxhole
Gripped by the numbing cold
But then, felt a warmth, from inside
Like I was held in the “fold”.

I felt my best friend touch me
And couldn’t believe he said,
“No need to call the corpsman,
‘Cause he’s already dead!”

And then my head felt light
As I looked down below,
Whispered, “I’ll see ya’, Bros
Because it’s time for me to go!”

© Del “Abe” Jones

Terror In The Heartland

It’s come to the heartland
The terror and the dread
In one explosive moment
Our innocence has fled
Oh yes, it has come home!

There isno understanding
There’s only disbelief
Was it our own countrymen
Who brought down all this grief?
Oh yes, it has come home!

Our voices cry for justice
Our hearts cry out in pain
For family, friends, and loved ones
Never to be, seen or held again
Oh yes, it has come home!

Then, there are the children
Withouttheir lives to live
Now the world will surely miss
The gifts they had to give
Oh yes, it has come home!

The images of heroes
Burned deep into our mind
People helping people
Shows we are a special kind
Oh yes, it has come home!

In the twisted steel and concrete
Through the day and dark of night
We watch the tireless effort
Of the rescuers fight.
Oh yes, it can come home!

How can a human being
Harbor such demented hate
To bring upon their own kind
Such a cruel fate
Oh yes, it has come home

Though most of us view from afar
It could have been mine or yours
But we must grieve and then go on
Not hide behind locked doors
Even though, it has come home!

There are no easy answers
When our hearts are torn
But from healing words of promise
Each new hope is born.
Oh yes, it can come home!
Oh yes, it will come home!
It has come home!

Del “Abe” Jones
04.22.1995

One Hundred And Sixty-Eight Seconds

One second for each victim -
On this anniversary -
But a lifetime of sorrow -
For surviving friends and family.

A small tribute to them -
‘Midst the sadness and the tears -
Remembering happy times -
Of all those by-gone years.

We have all learned a lesson -
From the people of that city -
To go on and persevere -
But, isn’t it a pity?

That we must learn such lessons -
With such a price to pay -
With sadness in heart and mind -
On this observance day.

Just want to send condolences -
To all of those concerned -
And hope those responsible -
Will in Hell, be burned.

Del “Abe” Jones
4-19-97

The Death Of Innocence
(Columbine)

Fourteen more young wasted lives
And one teacher who gave all
And once more the questions
Why, no one heard the call.

Why, two young minds and hearts
Were filled with so much hate
Why, they took it on themselves
To seal, all those others fate.

There is no answer, that makes sense
No way to sort it out
And we should all, ask just what
We, really are about.

Why, the future is no more
For all of those young souls
Why, no more hopes and dreams
No chance to reach their goals.

Why, with all our expertise
And, our technology
Why, we can’t stop the madness
In our “great” (?) society.

There is no answer, that makes sense
No way to sort it out
And we should all, ask just what
We, really are about.

Why, our children can get guns
Make bombs to kill and maim
Why, parents think, “No, not mine!
(Don’t play, that deadly game.)

Why, we say every time
“It shouldn’t happen here!”
Why, we don’t take it serious
And shudder with fear.

There is no answer, that makes sense
No way to sort it out
And we should all, ask just what
We, really are about.

4-22-99
Del “Abe” Jones

Although the origin is uncertain
It’s thought, in Fifteen eighty-two
In France, a reformed calendar
Changed, when the year was new.

It used to start on April First
When it was, the old Julian
But, it was changed to January
With the new Gregorian.

Back in those days of yore
The news travelled so slow
For some, it would be years
Before, they would even know.

Some people didn’t like it
And to change it, they’d refuse
They liked that old calendar
So, that’s the one they’d use.

All the rest of the people
Used them for the butt of jokes
And it became a pastime
To, play pranks on those folks.

They called them “April fish”
For, a young fish is easily caught
And sometimes a paper fish
Stuck on their back and they knew not.

April First became the day
To play those jokes and pranks
And it spread around the World
For this, we owe the French, our thanks.

In Scotland, known as “Taily Day”
It brought the first,”Kick Me” sign
With butts of jokes known as “Gowks”
That brought, the “Cuckoo Bird” to mind.

In England, no pranks, after Noon
That was thought to be unlucky
Played on someone called a “Noodle”
Or on a “Gob” or “Gobby”.

In Rome, on March Twenty-fifth
It’s known as “Roman Laughing Day”
But, to most all of the World
It’s just known as, “April Fools Day”.

At the expense of one another
It’s just a time to have some fun
And to celebrate the springtime
Here on this day of, April One.

Del “Abe” Jones
April 1, 2009

This year is about to end
And a New, about to start
The past, just memories
Some, that hurt the heart.

Our brave Troops are still dying
Far too many Families grieve
And those wounded coming home
Deserve more, than they receive.

Some of them are coming back
With wounds that do not show
Without any help, or support
Nowhere to turn, nowhere to go.

We’ve two wars we’re waging
One, brought about by lies
Told, they want us over there
While the truth shows in their eyes.

Our schools are failing our kids
Our infrastructure is shot
Healthcare costs, outrageous
For those who can pay, most cannot!

Our economy is in shambles
As the poor bail out the rich
Our leaders (?) have all fallen
For the con men and their pitch.

Families put out, on the street
By those orders of evictions
While those who did the crime
Not indicted, no convictions.

Some folks have lost everything
They had saved, for their old age
While we let it, go on and on
Where’s our anger, and outrage?

Our middle class may be doomed
To join the classes of the poor
While we buy those foreign goods
And send our good jobs out the door.

We leave our borders wide open
They come and go as they may
They get free healthcare and welfare
While we pay, and pay, and pay!

We still depend on fossil fuels
Shipped here from across the seas
Where we spend our treasure
In some, unfriendly, countries.

Oil companies here at home
Want to “Drill, baby, drill!”
Instead of trying other ways
(It looks like, they never, will!)

Some Rights from our Constitution
Taken away, without a fight
To protect us all, they tell us
That, only they know, what is right!

Torturing is on the table
And, renditions in secrecy
People imprisoned without charges
By, the Land of the Free!

One day, it just may be you
Should you choose, to speak out
Say something, which you believe
They don’t want to hear about.

But, we have a New Year coming
A new President, for change
Let’s hope, for the good of the People
Are the things, he’ll rearrange.

He can’t do it all by himself
He needs us, each and every one
If we hope to change our Country
We must all help, to get it, done!

Just maybe, “Auld Lang Syne”
(Translated, “days gone by”)
Will just be, a bad memory
As we tell the past, “Goodbye!”

Del “Abe” Jones
12.30.2008

Warring nations can call a truce
Or they can ask for a cease-fire
Try something, like an armistice
To bring an end, to wartime ire.

The guns may stop the shooting
While the bombs no longer burst
The din of war may quiet down
And the Troops may be dispersed.

The body counts may be totaled
The wounded, sent home to heal
Newspapers proclaim, “War Ends!”
To most, war’s horror, seems unreal.

Things may return to normal
The feuding people go their way
Out of sight and out of mind
It’s just another ordinary day.

For most of us, memories dim
It just becomes part of the past
If it didn’t touch us directly
It’s doubtful any pain will last.

But, for so many Troops returning
It’s a different World, for sure
Wounded deeper than the flesh
For some, there will be no cure.

With images burned in the mind
And the sounds of death and pain
The guilt of another life taken
Having been to the edge of, sane.

With some, a look into their eyes
Will show you, a different being
Not the one, you knew before
That you looked forward to seeing.

War opens a new dimension
That most of us will never see
The World they had left behind
Will now, forever, cease to be.

Sometimes, they’ll speak about it
But, for most, it’s held inside
And sadly, for far too many
There’s that pain, they cannot hide.

When those folks return to us
From where, most will never know
We must try to understand them
When they let other feelings show.

They all have Served their Nation
For that’s what, Soldiers are for
Each deserve our praise and thanks
Although not all, have gone to War.

Each knows there is the chance
That, any time of day or night
They may be called upon to deploy
And be sent somewhere to fight.

All Veterans who have served us
Through long hours with little pay
Should be respected all the time
Not only, just on, Veterans Day.

Del “Abe” Jones
11.08.2008