To live in a country and be able to write, to be free to write and free to publish what you have written is true freedom of thought and expression. With this freedom comes a responsibility to give to others the fruits of this freedom that they may enjoy with you the written word.  May we celebrate together for I am grateful to live and write in the United States of America and live as an American author.

"Life is like a roller coaster ride; A steep first incline best shared with friends where lots of energy is expended to get to the top of the highest point, the view is exhilarating but it last only for a moment and then the drop. From there the momentum carries you through lots of smaller ups and downs. A ride with a heart throbbing, head pounding rush for having taken the risk to be there. Ending with a smooth finish that leaves you with something to talk about for ever. A ride that only those who have been there can understand.  A ride to be repeated often while the park is still open and you are there for it." SJC 6/19/2010

Poems By Samuel Colton, Sr. and more.

 

06-26-2024 For All The Children

A Poem by Samuel Colton Sr
American Author

For All The Children ©

For all the children who were born today

For all the children who will love to play

For all the children who will sing the songs, from their heart

For all the children who were held in a mother’s arms

For all the children who went to school

For all the children who have dreams like me, and like you

For all the children who wished upon a star

For all the children who want to travel far

For all the children who have a father’s love

For all the children that come from above

For all the children that we once were

For all of the children, for all the children, for all the children

Let us all return to the child we were before

Before we forgot.

That only children enter through heaven’s doors.

 

A COVID POEM: COVID WINS, AGAIN?
BY Samuel Colton-American Author /12-03-2020

You do know,
COVID’s got to go?
You do know,
COVID’s not a show ?

You do know,
COVID’s no friend of mine ?
You do know,
COVID’s no friend of time?

You do know,
COVID’s a killer?
You do know,
COVID’s no thriller?

You do know,
COVID’s a thief?
You do know,
COVID’s spelled GRIEF?

You do know,
COVID’s a virus?
You do know,
COVID desires US?

You do know,
COVID’s not for them?
You do know,
COVID’s going to win?

You do know,
why COVID will win?
Because your a mask less,
COVID friend.

For COVID’s end! Wear your mask.

#covid #motivation #success #inspiration

 

09/14/2020

A poem by Samuel Colton. American author.

written at the ranch house Kearny Arizona 9/14/2020

All rights reserved

Going Back Forever

Going back forever
To unwind the hands of time
Progress onward forever
Means going backwards together

To a time before time
To the time we have forgot
When people lived peacefully together
Never not knowing when not

To our first parents
To our first sisters and brothers
To when Earth was our mother
To the time we have forgot

Going back forever

Back before that first evil deed

When a brother took the life of another

Back to the before time

To when we all loved one another .

 

Going back forever together

Leaving our vengeance behind

Holding fast again to each other

Remembering we are always 

 

Each other’s sister and brother

 

 

 

Father's Day a Year Ago©
By Samuel Colton American Author
6-19-2011

Father's Day a Year Ago
Where has the time gone?
My children, little to big you are
All in one year it would seem
The time between a dream

Seems only yesterday
I held your little hands
I lived to see your smiles
To hear the words
I love you, te quiero mucho

The days and weeks are
Memories now
It's the autumn of my life
My fiancé, my lover, my wife
You, our children my guiding light

A year ago I was young
Or was it two or three
Father heard less, now Grandpa more
There is an Old man living here
Who is this stranger in my home?

A new generation is living in spring
I must learn to love the fall
I cannot turn back time
My spring moments have given way
I watch the autumn leaves fall

Fall is autumn, so winter soon must be
Grandpa is my new name and identity
No turning back the hands of time
So save a hug and a kiss
For your dad

What more can he ask for?
On this his special day
Children who love him
A wife who gave them to him
Today is Father's Day!

Father's Day a Year Ago
Or has it been two
Or has it been three.
You were my little children once
Now I am yours

 F (x)

 By Samuel Colton 4/18/02

 

The Language of mathematics

Is the poetry of the constants

And the variables

Accented by exponents

Acting with

The give and take

Of negative or positive

Integers

As they act one

Upon another.

Always searching

For enlightenment

As they seek

The true solution

For the unknown.

Poetry unlike

Mathematics’

Has no rules.

Finding truth by

Feel.

 

 

 

 

The Dreamer Lives

By Samuel J. Colton

 

The Dream Lives Because the Dreamer Dared Dream It.

The Dreamer Lives By Keeping The Dream Alive.

When The Dream Dies So Does The Dreamer.

Keep Your Dreams Alive and Live.

 

Only In Our Dreams

Does The Promise Of A Better World Exist

Because Of Our Dreams,

Our Today’s Have Meaning.

 

Tomorrow May Never Be Ours.

But Our Dreams Let Us Live Tomorrow Now.

Till That Day When My Dreams Come True

I will Dream My Dreams.

 

As Long As The Dream Lives,

The Dreamer Will Never Die

May Each Generation Dream The Dream

I Have A Dream.

 

 

My Friend By Samuel Colton 2/18/2007

 

My Friend

You did not choose me

 

My Friend

You are mine because

 

My Friend

I don’t want anything

 

My Friend

I give to you

 

My Friend

You are free

 

My Friend

You are free to be ….

 

My Friend

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Anvils Song

Writen Sunday, January 14, 2007

 

Clang, clang, clang

Ring, ring, ring

Tap, tap, tap

Clang, ring, tap, clang

Ring, tap

Clang, clang

 

Clang, clang, thud

Thud, tap, ring

Ding, ding, rap

Thud, clang, cling, ring

Ring, tap

Clang, clang

 

So goes the song

The Anvils song

Fire and Iron together they sing

From the Forge to the Anvil

Hammer strikes fast

Then slow.

 

The Anvil its song sing’s

 

Clang, clang, clang

Ring, ring, ring

Tap, tap, tap

Clang, ring, tap, clang

Ring, tap

Clang, clang

 

Clang, clang, thud

Thud, tap, ring

Ding, ding, rap

Thud, clang, cling, ring

Ring, tap

Clang, clang

 

Hot or Cold the weather may be

Like the hearts of men

The Anvil knows its song to sing

The iron hot the iron cold

Iron, Anvil and Hammer together

They sing

 

From such have nations been forged

From such a song nations will fall

The plowshare made

The pruning hook done

The sword of the mighty

Sings first on the Anvils face

 

By the hand of the Master

Such things are made

By the hand of the Master

The Plow, the Hook, the Blade

The fate of the world

Rest here in this place

 

 

The place where the Anvil sings.

 

 

 

 

 

Death Of My Ride
by Samuel Colton, Sr
6/17/06
Copyright protected all rights reserved


Death of my ride
December 14th 2005
Death of my ride
Traffic. cut off
Black car
Options?
Brake hard
Sliding, sliding
Option, options
Guard rail, NO
Cut off from other lane
Sliding, sliding
Skidding, skidding

Going down, going down
Better than hitting chrome?
Chrome, black car
Down, down
Sliding, sliding
Helmet fits good
Helmet good
Helmet sliding
Head in Helmet
My Harley-Davidson helmet
My son bought it for me
Good day to have it on
Thank you son

Sliding stops
Cars take off
No help, man down
Try to get up
Leg broken, BAD
My ride, oh my ride
My beautiful ride
Bent, bleeding fluids
Damage, damage
I'm ok, I'm ok
My ride
Help my ride up

Sir we have to go
The Ambulance
No. My ride first
Officer! take care of my ride
Mr. The other cars?
No one stopped
Your hurt
My ride, my ride
My freedom
My stress releif
My day off companion
My pride, my joy
My ride
My ride died
Beyond repair

I touch the scars
Feel the pain
Bad memory? No
I think of my ride
My ride died
I lived
Someday I will ride again
But I miss my ride
Who can understand?
The joy of the ride
The joy of the night ride
The joy of the ride in the rain
The joy of the ride in the morning sun
The joy of the ride at sunset
The joy of the wind
The joy of the heat
The joy of the ride
Who can understand?
My ride died
Someday I will ride again
Someday I will ride again!
Someday I will ride again!!
Someday I will

 

 

 

 

 

Viajar Peru
by Samuel Colton
Copy right all rights reserved
6/12/06

What began in the L.A. dawn
Ended at night a world away
The long, long, long
Trans continental flight.

From out of the dark lights by the sea
The lights of Lima what a wonder to me
From the coast the Andes jump straight up to the sky
The plane is on the ground, time for hellos and goodbyes

Hussle along to the immigrations control
Hussle along to the customs control
Hussle along to see if my friends are in sight
This will be my first Andean Lima night.

Another world exist way down under
Another world of people like no other
Like no other, Lima, the Andes, Peru
Its more than they ever taught me in school

People, people they are everywhere
People, people I can only stop and stare
Not like the postcards or Internet sites
These are modern people with ancient rights

A mystic presence is everywhere
From the North to the South
You feel it in the air
The mystic is there

The desert coast the highlands green
The selva or jungle its all like a dream
Where do they come from these Andenos?
Cuzco they say, they always were here

Ancient ways live side by side with new
Ancient ways will be here when others are threw
Ancient ways are time tested true
Ancient ways are Peru

Its not the land
Its not the sea
Its not Machu Pichu
Its not any of these things

The gold that fills the Andes rich
The gold that makes one take such a trip
The gold that will always be part of me
The gold is my memory of the people
Peru, Peru, Peru.

 

 

 

Coffee
By Samuel Colton
Copyright protected all rights reserved
6/14/-06

Oh the evil bean
The one that makes
The morning bright
The evil bean
That makes the day
light
From the long night
The morning bright

The evil bean
That perks up the house
That gets the brain
The kidney
The everything
Working

Oh the evil bean
The one that brings
People together to
Chat
Coffee shops
And all that
Oh the evil bean
Whats wrong with
That?

 

 

 

Don't Fence Me In
By Samuel Colton, Sr.
6/13/06 Copyright

Fence me in
Make my politics safe
Fence me in
Makes my nation great
Fence me in
Others needs are so many
Fence me in
My libery is at stake
Fence me in
Keeps me free?
Fence me in
Your needs I won't see
Fence me in
Others are a threat
Fence me in

Fence you out
You must go
Fence you out
Visit but don't stay
Fence you out
We have ours
Fence you out
Your needs are yours
Fence you out
Dream of the stars, not ours
Fence you out
Our dream is not yours
Fence you out
Hunger makes you want to come
Fence you out

Fence us in
Together we will be
Fence us in
Together in liberty
Fence us in
Our world our lives are one
Fence us in
The Americas are one planet
Fence us in
Liberty for ALL
Fence us in
Together success
Fence us in
Our cause is just
Fence us in

Fences no more
Immigrant nation
Fences no more
Immigrant nation

My Star Spangled Banner
by Samuel Colton, Sr
6/27/06
Copy right protected All rights reserved

My Star Spangled Banner
I am so proud to see it wave
My country tis of thee
Here my fore fathers
Lie peacefully in thier graves

Whose broad stripes
Have allowed me to reach for the stars
Long may it wave
Until I like my fore fathers
Lie peacefully in my grave

But oh say can you still see
That I have much work to do
To keep my country free
For Me, For Them, For You
Past the dawns early light
Keeping watch into the night
May I and mine remember
To fight the good fight

The bombs are bursting everywhere
Haters of Freedom
Fight US with rockets red glare
Our duty here is clear
Our duty there is clear
Build our American dream
So others can have one

My Star Spangled Banner
Long may it wave
My Star Spangled Banner
Long may it wave
Ore the Land of the Free
Home of the brave
With liberty
And Justice
For All Mankind

Awake The Morn to Mourn No More

By Samuel Colton, Sr

Writen 2/13/07

I shrunk to hear the news today

The world of terror

The evil at play

That I should from my home leave to be

Exposed to so much human misery

But with the drive that the living displays

I left my home and went on my way

And ventured out for sustenance

In a world that starves for want of such

For want of such, more good than bad

In so going an ounce of courage did I take?

That I might somehow my return voyage make

To be with family

And warm my heart at the hearth

Rejoicing that the news today

Did not my ended life display

The news at five o’clock

Did mirror the morning news at seven

So many souls damned

So many gone to hell

So many gone to heaven

But I am here where it all began

The world news my only clue

Of the hazards faced by me and you

Safe behind the locked door strong

Safe behind the locked door strong

I shrunk to hear the news today

The world of terror

The evil at play

That I should from my home leave to be

Exposed to so much human misery

But with each faltering step I take

As the world from slumber wakes

To the terror others make

To lend myself as does the gurgling spring

So goodness may triumph ore evil make

For my family, For My children

For mankind’s sake

That no more mourns await when I awake

Awake to the good morn 

The terror but a dream never to return

 

 

 

 

The Gift

By Samuel Colton, Sr.

7/30/2004

There are many things

In life a man or a woman

Could desire.

So many things to have

And to hold

That surely the

World’s envy would inspire.

But of all the things

That one could possess.

The thing’s to keep

Or give away.

Nothing compares to the

Promise of love You give one another

On your wedding day

But always remember

You have been fairly warned.

Tis far better to give

Than to receive

So bless your lives

With daily gifts

And always in each other Believe

Sonrisa Dos Mundos

By Samuel Colton, Sr

2/10/2005

Crossing the border to my other life

I am the side of the line I ‘m on

I am Mexican

I am American

I am both

I am nothing.

I love my countries

The land of my birth

The land of my wife’s birth

Her land is my land.

My mother’s people lived in Mexico

Or was it  Texas?

Then USA

But we are not Mexicans, or Texicans

We are Americans.

During the day I am Mexican

The same day I am American

I am Gringo one moment

Pisano another

My children come in different shades of brown

My children come in different shades of white.

We are Mexican

We are American

We are of two cultures

We belong to neither

My son tells me.

“I am myself.”

My Spanish is poor.

My Spanglish is excellent.

Don’t give us special rights.

Just our rights

USA Mi Tierra

That’s How It Is.

By Samuel Colton, Sr.

2/11/2005

Where is she buried?

Your mother, I asked.

So we can take a picture.

She’s not there the reply

Not there.

Then where?

Gone?

Gone where?

We don’t know.

We didn’t have money for the land.

If you don’t pay they take the bones out.

The bones are gone for someone else?

If you don’t buy the land

That’s how it is.

I see the photo of the twins

I didn’t know you had twins.

One he dies when one he is a week old

The other she dies the next week.

They are my angles.

What happened?

They got sick.

What did the Doctor say?

We didn’t go to the Doctor.

You didn’t go to the Doctor?

We had no money.

The lady who knows about these things

She gave them a shot.

But they died anyway.

My Angles

That’s how it is.

It was hot and dusty.

We were so sad.

Like a beautiful bird had died

To sing no more

It was her heart, maybe.

She had pills but they

Stop working.  She died.

No specialist, no second opinions.

Not enough money.

After the prayer and words

Each of us took our turn at the shovel.

The sand covered our Sister.

 My heart was so heavy.

I want to cry but I can’t.

She was young.

But

That’s how it is.

I was so scared, he tells me.

The migra came and sat next to me

I knew not to run.

I ate my Jumbo Jack

And left

It was close. Tengo meido sin papeles.

I have no papers.

My daughter is an American.

My children will be born in this place.

I have work, she has a future.

That’s the way it is.

USA Mi Tierra.

 

A Season For Dying
by Samuel Colton Sr
American Author
01-15-2024

I didn’t know that there was special day, month or time of year for dying.

I didn’t know there’s 365 days available for others to be sad and crying.

I didn’t know that such a big event can happen without trying. This thing that happens to be the season. The season known as dying.

I didn’t know that at anytime of any season has a part that is set aside, for the season known as dying.

I didn’t know that advanced notice isn’t required or perhaps that’s just understood.

You’re in for the season. The one you thought followed the others. But then your out.

Your out of season but your in the the final season. Its called the season for dying.

I didn’t know that dying, is considered part of living. I might not have signed up at all.

Or stayed longer in one of the other seasons. The ones I liked most before the season known as dying. The season thats played in before thats all.

I didn’t know a lot of things, though I thought I knew so much. I guess every lucky dog just somehow; runs completely out of luck.

I didn’t know much about the season for dying. It’s not spring, summer, fall or winter. It’s a season all its own.

I asked around for anyone who knew anything about this season called dying. The season almost no one talks about. Except when they’re crying.

I asked for just such a someone who could explain the reasons for so many people crying.

I found some experts on this and that, like what to wear, what to say, and how to pray. During the season called dying.

I’m sure I’ll understand more when it’s my time. You know, the season called dying.

I hope it’s not a long term thing but then I think I really want it so. Take my time. Just this once let’s be late to the departure gate. I’m ok with finishing last. Just this time.

I wouldn’t want my season to be too much for you and you and you. It’s certainly too much for me, let alone you.

I think I’ll know when it’s my season, or maybe not. It is my season, and I don’t have to have reason. It’s a long shot.

I kinda knew that everyone celebrates their lifes dying season in their own way. Some before and some after. It’s your season to be played. The season known as dying.

It’s not what you think, and it’s not always the same. It’s always very final. The seasons that are always part of life’s end game.

I’m thinking I’ll try my best to get the most extra innings in for each day, of each month, of each year’s seasons. Really trying before the season known as dying.

After all I’m not sure I’ll like this season. The one they named dying.

I think I like the idea of living over and over each of the other seasons. The ones that always come around without hardly trying. A lot better than that season, know as dying.

I’ll give each season my very best performance, and live my truth to the fullest.

After all, I only get to live this once before my personal season.

The season called dying

Magic Grape Juice
By Samuel Colton
Copyright protected. All rights reserved.
7/02/06

It was the 4th of July weekend and Markey and Bryce were visiting their grandma's house with all their family for a special Sunday breakfast. They both were so thirsty and so they began to drink some grape juice. But as they were drinking Uncle Sam warned them that it was no ordinary grape juice, because unknown to them this grape juice was harvested from the magic grape vines of the magic valley in magic land.

The boys enjoyed the delicious grape juice and drank more and more and Uncle Sam warned them to stop because magic grape juice can cause little boys to grow taller and taller with each glass. The boys laughed and drank even more juice. Soon Markey realized that Bryce was growing taller and Bryce noticed that Markey was growing taller. Taller and taller the boys grew until everyone began screaming for them to stop drinking the grape juice.

It was too late as the boys grew faster and taller their heads began to hit the ceiling of grandma's house and then their whole bodies grew so tall and strong that they broke through the roof of the house and their heads and shoulders were high above the house. Everyone ran out front screaming as the boys looked in amazement around the neighborhood. They were so tall from the grape juice and everyone was shouting like little people because they were so small. The boy's didn't know what to do and they were so thirsty they drank all the magic grape juice. Uncle Sam told them that one of the effects of drinking magic grape juice is that when you stop drinking it you will begin to shrink.

Everyone was so happy to know that the boys would begin to shrink but Uncle Sam forgot to tell them that the shrinking never stops until they disappear. Sure enough the boys began to shrink smaller and smaller until they were back inside of grandma's house with the big hole in the roof. Smaller and smaller they grew until they were little little boys. Smaller and smaller the boys grew until they were smaller than an ant.

Just about then a picnic ant came crawling along and before Uncle Sam could get the boys in side a cup for their own protection the ant spotted them and began running after them for a snack. The boys ran screaming and screaming for help and just as the ant was about to eat them both Uncle Sam reminded them that he was only telling a story and immediately everything returned to normal at grandma's house and they were safe.

The End

 

 

 

Pulling The Cart by Samuel Colton.  All Rights Reserved. 

There is this plow horse that isn't flashy or fast but pulls steady when in the harness.  Hitched to a cart he pulls hard, with the same desire to serve as he does in the field plowing furrows.  But when hitched to the cart there are no furrows to follow on each side to keep him plowing straight. 
The plow horse relies on the Farmer to steer him from time to time in the right direction. 

When the direction of travel is one that is familiar the Farmer only needs to encourage the horse from time to time with an occasional word of encouragement.  But when the path is new or not frequently traveled the horse needs guidance and more frequent instruction so that he doesn't plow crooked or when pulling the cart take a wrong turn or tip the cart over.

The plow horse is sure-footed and reliable and loves to be in the harness.  He was born to pull the plow and the cart., always in front, but willing and able to take direction from the Farmer.  His greatest joy is in a field well plowed or how far the cart is pulled. 

Sometimes the harness is chaffing the horse leaving his muscles sore from pulling.  A little rest and a day's grazing restore him to his labor of love.  Pulling the plow and the cart.  As long as the horse is pointed in the right direction he can get many things where they need to go.  The Farmer has so many chores around the farm he doesn't always remember the horse is pulling even when he isn't there to see, but a nudge in the right direction gets him back on track.

The blinders on the horses harness keep him from being distracted from his purpose of plowing and pulling.  He counts on the words from the Farmer to keep him in the paths he should go.  The Farmers words are very important.  If the Farmer say's pull to the right then to the right the horse will go. 

The plow horse is an intelligent creature that keeps his eye on the end of the row so that he can pull straight to the end, looking far ahead he could miss something close by without the Farmers help. 

Working together the Farmer and the horse make a beautiful pair.  Deep long rows of rich earth ready to grow great results.  Heavy carts full of a bountiful harvest ready to be pulled to town for all to see.

When pulling the cart around town the horse counts on the Farmers help in knowing when and how fast to make a turn.  The Farmer's position on top of the cart allows a better view of what comes ahead.  When the horse is in the direction he should go he uses all his strength to get the Farmer where the Farmer wants to go.  The well being of the farm gives so much to so many.  The horse leaves it to the Farmer to decide which crops to plant and how much to grow.  His desire is that the ones that are planted are well cared for and the next field readied for the spring and fall planting.

Sometimes the wind blowing makes it hard for the horse to clearly hear the words of the Farmer. 

Getting together from time to time in the barn where it’s quite helps the Farmer and the horse communicate before going out into the wind.  The horse can always pull the cart home in the worst storm if he knows ahead of time that’s where the Farmer wants to go.