Clouds without water in a thirsty land
The promise of life for barren sand
Intense longing from a thirsty sky
Expectation has left us dry

Our fruitful valley the world does feed
But now it's US who are found in need
Of life-giving water from high up above
Show us a sign...show us the love

The hope and longing are the hardest part
A promise in the clouds where the rain would start
The dark sky is threatening, the thunder it rolls
But the ground is dying...thirst all that it knows

The seeds they look up, and the branches do too
At clouds without water...who pass right on through
Begging for moisture, life-giving to bring
Drought in its soil...hope in its cling

David Kettler

Notes: This thought came to me after reading the line "clouds without water" in the book of Jude.

Like a dead little bird, alone on the ground
No open window, no entrance was found
The light in his eye slowly burns out
No riding the wind-no flying about

The rude awakening of glass that was there
Transparent the wall itself to lay bare
So inviting the room seemed so inside
So fatal the secret the room had to hide

The bird now is helpless to flee from its plight
Enemies circle and wait for the night
Once free and alone on the wing of its flight
The sad little bird is a sad little sight

Beware little one as you flutter about
Of things transparent...that leave little doubt
Much better the wing on the wind to be found
Than a dead little bird...alone on the ground

David Kettler

Notes: One morning we were startled by a loud bang on our window. After looking outside,
we saw a beautiful Red breasted Robin lying on the patio while taking its last few breaths. We
were very sad and almost bemoaned our crystal clean windows that faked the poor thing out!

I’m a poet locked in a time-clock jail, just yearning to be free
A jailbird stuck with no money for bail, scheming of ways I could flee
Day after day in a dead-end gig, and the years are passing me by
Will I ever say good-bye to this brig, or am I just too weary to try?

Doing my time in a uniform stripe, we all look alike, you would know
I listen to all the prisoners gripe or spin their sad tales of woe
“They’re guilty!” those who look on will say, and often they’re right on the mark
We all have done deeds for which we must pay, locked up in a room that is dark

A small window above I see in my cell, and the sun will sometimes shine through
Its comfort and warmth I know oh so well, though the moments are fleeting and few
The poet wakes up- his cell mates all stir… parole is a possible thing!
In those moments of hope the mind is a blur, with a future that freedom could bring

All in a line we march on in time, to punch our own time-clock in jail
With final resign, we know we won’t climb, to the heights or the oceans will sail
Cons all around me will die behind bars, their dreams all un-realized
With no more chance to reach for the stars, their fate sadly is finalized

I as a poet, write from my cell, some classics they get snuck outside
I know this fact, and yes, oh-so-well… that some won’t be read till I’ve died!
My tune is well known, the inmate’s lament, it is sung time and time and again
The past is all past, as though set in cement, the future “oh what might have been”

So thank you for reading this writing of mine,   
on your 10 minute break or at lunch
And now I must close with this last little line…
I do have a time-clock to punch!

David Kettler
 1/25/11
I wrote this almost four years ago so my sentence is that much shorter! Actually, for the most part I enjoy my
daytime gig. I think we all dream of doing something that we really love though. I would love to write for a living,
or make sculptures out of metal and wood. I have made tables, fountains and

 

          Create

A piece of metal on its own
sitting in the garage at home
Doing nothing for itself
laying useless on a shelf

In my mind a plan concocts
using metal wood and rocks
By themselves they useless be
but together you will see

Wheels turning can create
something of their empty state
Maybe useful or sublime…
or beautiful in their own time

To be remembered more than naught
something new of which was wrought
The metal had to feel some pain
sawing goes against the grain

Breaking of the rocks must be
for convergence of the three
So together they will stay
in a new and different way

Transformed and changed
by hand of fate
All brought about…
when I create

David Kettler, 10/05/10

In October of 2010 I drove to San Jose to attend a battery convention. Having miss-read the web-site, I thought the expo opened at 8:30AM, however, it did not open until noon! Rolling into town about 8:00, I suddenly found myself with four empty hours! I remember Jim Rohn asking his audience, “why would I buy an empty book for twenty five dollars?” His answer was, “to go searching for something more valuable than twenty five dollars to put in it!” So now I had to go searching for something of value to put in my newly found four empty hours in San Jose California! I started walking downtown and ended up at the beautiful Fairmont Hotel. After securing a wonderful cup of coffee, I made myself at home in the vast lounging area where there was a beautiful grand piano at which I stared at longingly! Not having the guts to go over and play it, I started writing. I wrote out a number of my goals both in personal and business life, and then I started looking at the pictures in my phone. The first two pictures were of my newly created “planter” that sits in the entryway of our home. The next picture was of my newly created dinning room table which now sits in our breakfast nook area. I thought about how just a few weeks before, they were only sticks of metal sitting on a shelf at Jim’s Supply Co. and a sheets of plywood sitting on the shelf at Home Depot. Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoyed my four hours in downtown San Jose and will remember what I put into them for many years. The battery expo was nice too. I saw a few old friends that I have known in my industry for years. The technology has changed but the faces remain the same!