Ted Sheridan Poems

With the rarest of snows come their prayers for peace
Seen as a miracle to the eyes of the battle weary
Evil freezes still for but the moment
As God speaks to his children in a voice they can all understand….
...

As a hunter one must hide in ambush for the prey
Or be willing to stalk it to the kill…
As a lover one must only declare their desire
And the prey will lie down to be slaughtered willingly…
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I’m always looking for the answer
Never stopping to smell the flowers or the coffee
Because I hate the taste of coffee
It doesn’t mix well with rum
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In all honesty I don’t get along with many people
Especially those who measure time in dog years
Or those who name their cats after cartoon characters
I try to avoid without conflict people who are constantly happy
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I lose everything in the end,
when the lights are turned out and my tongue dries.
Hanging by the skin of my teeth,
I can’t hold onto the rope that twists above the quicksand
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Symbolism over substance is the rhetoric of our times.
Better to feel good than to be good; better to say nice things
than actually being kind to others; better to tell a white lie
when the truth would suffice. Better to behave
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Once a killer, a soldier; a regular mercenary.
His talents were obviously not to be taken lightly. His eyes
let you know he wasn’t joking when he spoke of his enemies.
They were all dead now, but still very much alive in his head.
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He deals with his cancer just like he dealt
with that stupid war back in the Nam; he curses himself
for all those unfiltered cigarettes he smoked in between
lighting up the jungle with tracers so he could see to shoot
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With an I.Q. that is barely high enough
to reach the 800 numbers
of the Dewey Decimal System;
“Literature and Rhetoric”,
...

A recent study of our worldly intelligence quota
reported; we the people are becoming dumber
and it is in direct correlation with the size and growth
of our governments. In other words, the larger the body
...