Character Counts; growing up

Growing up, we were taught to respect our elders no matter who they were.
Every time we sat down to eat, we would take turns saying the blessing. Once
when it was my turn, I tried to be cute and got slapped out of my chair.

Thank you for our daily bread,
Thank you for what we are about to eat;
Now that the thank you's are over,
Can someone pass me the meat;

Over the years I have noticed that respect and morals continue to decline. I composed
the following in hopes of restoring respect for others, especially in our youth. I hope that
I'm not fighting a losing battle. But; I know I'm not, because the youth of today still have
their hopes and dreams.!

Moral Character
By L. Donald Oliver

Education, experience, perseverance,
Are the paths to one's goal;
Compassion, charity, tolerance,
Are the avenues to one's soul;

The responsibility is upon ourselves,
To believe in that which we can achieve;
With accountability, discipline, self control,
We can achieve that in which we believe;

Considering how others feel,
Insults we must never coddle;
Treating others with respect,
"The Golden Rule" is the model;

Doing everything within our power,
To provide for the common good;
Understanding, cooperation, respect for authority,
Are the prerequisites to be understood;

To succeed in the game of life,
All must play by the rules;
By preparing an even playing field,
Caring, sharing, equality, the tools;

Have forgiveness for wrongs others do,
Be considerate and show that we care;
Be grateful for what we have,
And always be willing to share;

Trusting in the honesty of ourselves,
To accomplish that in which we apply;
Believing in family, friends, and country,
Will make better citizens of you and I;

The Ten Morals; growing up

When I was growing up we were taught moral values
by our family, the school system and the media. In the
ensuing years I've witness this nations loss of many of
its moral values.

The following poem was printed in our
local newspaper on September 10, 200l.
On September 11, 2001 tragedy struck
our nation. At the time I authored this, I felt
then as I feel now, there was a lack of morals
in our society, due to the conflict between
"church and state". In my opinion, this has been a
lucrative cash cow for both sides. The following
was based on the "Ten Commandments" and
I worded it so it wouldn't offend anyone. It's not
intended to replace the Ten Commandment; but,
to supplement it!

The Ten Morals:
By L. Donald Oliver

It is morally right to have,
Faith for what you believe;
It is morally wrong to worship,
Symbols that others conceive;

It is morally wrong to assail others,
Even the words we speak;
It is morally right for all to,
Rest one day of each week;

It is morally right to honor parents,
Even should there be strife;
It is morally wrong and illegal,
To take another's life;

It s morally wrong and illegal to take,
That which doesn't belong to you;
It is morally right to be honest,
To the one you're committed to:

It is morally wrong to utter untruths,
It always leads to distress;
It is morally wrong to be jealous,
Of what others may possess;

I've aways lived by the "Golden Moral",
Of everything that I perceive;
"To always do for others,
What I wish them to do for me"

The Hunt; Growing up in Jacksonville

When I was growing up, I would go hunting with a guy across the street from where
we lived. His idea of hunting was sitting under a tree for hours waiting for the squirrels
to appear. When they did come out, he would raise a shot gun and kill two or three
of them with one shot. I not against hunting as long as hunters eat what they bag. I'm
against those who kill for the sport of it, take only a trophy and leave the carcass to rot!
To me that's not a sport, that's braggadocio! However, I did allow my wife to mount a
10 pound bass she had caught! But; that was her thing, not mine!

The Hunt.
By L. Don Oliver

My abduction from reality,
By an unforeseen source;
Abhorrent desires instilled,
Upon my selfish course;

Tracking unsuspecting prey,
Pursuing through their domain;
Eventing upon their misery,
With eternal sleep or pain;

Desirous of a trophy prize,
Reluctance to devour at all;
Extolling that creatures head,
When mounted upon my wall;

The Lanterns Glow, Growing up in Jacksonville

When we were young and would go for a drive we would pass a cemetery and our
dad would always ask the question. "Why do they build a fence around a graveyard"?
Before we could answer, he would answer his own question. "Because people are
dying to get in". One night when driving by a local cemetery I saw a light among the
tombstones. I knew it was an eternal light that someone had erected. I remarked to
my wife that it probably was grave robbers. She said no, it's an older woman who had
lost her husband several years ago and she goes to his grave site and sits and
talks to him. That really touched me, so when I got home I wrote the following.

The Lantern's Glow
By. L. Donald Oliver

Comes a light through the forest,
Preying nocturnal creatures there;
The eerie shadows are dancing,
But she does not seem to care;

In the city of the vaulted,
Where specter and goblin roam;
A place that one someday,
She will call her home;

The glow from her lantern,
Upon her journey each night;
Through the maze of the departed,
Extinguishes her darkened fright;

Many dreams have come,
Many dreams have gone;
And through all the years,
He was the only one;

She treasures all the moments,
Together they held past;
Alas life is so fleeting,
Pleasured moments never last;

Silent words are spoken,
Unto her cherished one;
Soon she'll be with him,
When her task is done;

The snow gathers around her,
But deep in her heart she knows;
Nothing seems to fray her,
As the cold wind blows;

The winds begin to dwindle,
The snow turns to frozen rain;
The only truth that sustains her,
That she will be with him again;

Tobacco Time; growing up in Jacksonville

When I was seven and my brother was almost nine, we were put on a bus
to a small town in South Georgia where we would be free labor, no matter
how small it was. I guess our parents felt that a little taste of what they had
to endure when they were growing up would be beneficial to both of us. For
me it was. I decided at that time there was no way I would ever become
a farmer.


Tobacco Time!
By L Don Oliver

When I was just a little shaver,
Brother not much older in rhyme;
Both, in a dusty Georgia field,
During tobacco picking time;

In that I was the youngest,
I drove the tobacco sled;
And those who were older,
Picked tobacco til they bled;

Brother got mad that I was,
Guiding "Old Bob" down a rut;
He took out his slingshot,
And hit "Old Bob" in the butt;

"Old Bob" took to flight,
Flinging me to the ground;
They searched for several miles,
Before "Old Bob" was ever found;

Our uncle was down right indignant,
He wasn't in a forgiving mood;
He retrieved a tobacco stick;
And whacked my brother good;

Willie Mae; growing up in Jacksonville

During shrimp season, when the shrimp boats would come in, we would try
to make a little money from depriving the fresh caught shrimp of their heads.
For the older people it was part of their lively hood. Willie Mae was one
of them. Many times when there were no more shrimp, I would push the
pile I had left over to Willie Mae so she could make a few pennies more!

Willie Mae!
By L. Don Oliver

The shrimp boats are coming,
Down to Trout River we would go;
When I was only eight years old,
To watch the fresh shrimp snow;

It was in a very long building,
Upon a table laid end to end;
A penny a pound was paid,
That's when we would begin;

There was an old black lady,
Willie Mae was her name;
Beheading six shrimp at a time,
She would always win the game;

Raking in more than we could behead,
Much more than we could withstand;
Willie Mae would take her board,
And whack you across the hand;

With a crowning confident smile,
Amassing all that she could scoop;
No one ever complained at all,
For it was her bowl of soup;

Dependency; growing up in Jacksonville

This is about my alcoholism that I eventually developed from an early age. After I realized
what I was doing to my family I quit over fourteen years ago and I have not missed
it at all! Self denial that we have a problem fuels our dependency!

A Path Chosen!
By L. Don Oliver

On a path of least resistance,
No matter where it may lead;
Aware of only the moment,
Never caring what I would seed;

Life was in the fast lane,
Spiraling out of my contain;
Easier to fault everyone else,
Never to accept any blame;

Of those who really cared,
Mattered not much to me;
A one way path to destruction,
Is where I chose to be;

I Have kissed the devil,
Experienced the false desire;
Dwelt in the canyons of hell,
Consumed by the raging fire;

No thought of pain caused,
Dismissed the wise man's cry;
Doomed to eternal solitude,
Questioning the reason why;

I had heroes; growing up in Jacksonville

Mama had to quit school after the fifth grade to help out on their farm. Daddy had
to quit after the third grade to also help on their farm. Both were tenant farms in
south Georgia. After they were married and had three of us, Mama was pregnant
with our baby sister when we moved to East Fifty Sixth St. To help ends meet, Mama
began washing and ironing for our more prosperous neighbors. Our most dreaded times
was when Mama went in the hospital and Daddy took charge. We knew we were going
to get a steady diet of baloney sandwiches and a can of soup for every meal until
Mama came back home.

My Heroes!
By L. Don Oliver

Many times when I was young,
Needing someone to care;
When I would stumble and fall,
They would always be there;

I had heroes in my life,
Having neither fortune or fame;
I had heroes in my life,
Who never called me names;

Never to hit a winning home run,
Or to even score a touchdown;
Who never hit a free throw,
Or kicked a soccer ball around;

I had heroes in my life,
Lifting me when I was sad;
I had heroes in my life,
My Mom and my Dad;

Going fishing; growing up in Jacksonville

On Trout river there was a crab plant where they cooked and picked crab
meat to make crab cakes. Along side and adjacent to the plant was a dock
where the crab shells were thrown into the river. The mullet would scavenge
these crab shells. We would take cane polls with a three pronged gig hook
attached and snatch all the mullet we could carry. This was one way to
supplement our meager diet.

Going Fishing!
By L. Don Oliver

Going down to the Crab Plant,
Going to catch a mess of fish;
Going to butter them all up,
Going to get my very wish;

Mama works at the Crab Plant,
Making up those crab cakes;
They toss the shells in the river,
Going to get all the fish I can take;

There comes the hungry mullet,
Dining on those crab shells;
Poking my line in the water,
Don't mind those fishy smells;

Snatching up most of the mullet,
Like picking grapes from a vine;
Going to saute them all up,
More tastier than foreign wine;

The Jacksonville Zoo;

When I was growing up, the section we lived in was called Panama Park. I don't
know what this section is now called. We didn't have air conditioning and slept
with the windows opened. Some mornings we were awakened, when the wind
was blowing out of the north to lions roaring from the Jacksonville Zoo. Many times
we would ride our bicycles or row a boat across the river to the Zoo. That is,
until the owner of the boat wised up and removed the oars. Of course, we began
bringing our own oars. Soon the boat was gone!

A Special day!
By L. Don Oliver

Fishing upon the bank,
Of a lazy flowing stream;
No thoughts of tomorrow,
Relaxing within my dream;

An old cracked cane pole,
Resting gentle upon my knee;
Thoughts of the now,
Lost in my reverie;

The ripple upon the stream.
There by a gentle breeze;
Sun dancing upon the water,
The moment mine to seize;

Sounds of a singing wren,
Bass splashing with delight;
A solitary soaring eagle,
Upon it's effortless flight;

A greenish blue crab,
Drifting with the tide;
A turtle upon a fallen tree,
It's there it will abide;

A fish beneath the water,
Swimming swiftly upon it's way;
Saying to no one in particular,
You'll not catch me today;

Time passes oh! so quickly,
In life it will never wait;
Guess its time to go,
For I forgot the bait;

The descending sun is yawning,
The moon soon will be high;
Time to gather my things,
And tell my friends goodbye;

My first bicycle,growing up in Jacksonville

It was prior to my eighth Christmas and never having one, I wanted a
bicycle. Our family wasn't able to afford a new one. A neighbor family
had just bought their son a new bicycle and threw his old one in a
trash pile.

How Far is Heaven
By L. Don Oliver

On the road to a moment of truth,
There in a pile of use to be;
I espied an old rustic disclaim,
One day again I would see;

Negativism of those who doubt,
Is forever in their thought;
Who equate happiness with,
Things that must be bought;

Those who surrender their all,
To the ones they love the most;
In our heart will always live,
Until we give up the ghost;

Not among the prosperous,
The poorest in the realm;
Our father was the captain,
And he controlled the helm;

With no thought of himself,
He toiled late into the night,
Hearing the sounds of his efforts;
To insure that he got it right;

Upon that annual morning,
Sneaking quietly as could be;
A shiny refurbished bicycle,
Next to the Christmas tree;

The Coin, By Ollie Owl

Children don't do this at home!

The Coin!
By L. Don Oliver

Hearing the mourning of a train,
Before it rounded the bend;
Standing next to the tracks,
Waiting for it to descend;

Walking up to the tracks,
Placing a nickel upon the rail;
Raising up to an erect position,
Then hauling my adolescent tail;

The engineer blows his whistle,
Waves as he goes flying by;
Trying to find the errant nickel,
I will give it a yeoman's try;

Finally finding the nickel,
Mashed to a large flat,
It was my only nickel,
Why did I do that;

Faded Portrait.

Faded Portrait, by L. Don Oliver
Category: Life

Faded portrait on the wall,
Of someone held so dear;
If you listen very closely,
There's a voice you can hear;

Whisper of forever memories,
Of the happy times gone by;
Love of the ones touched,
And what made them cry;

Faded portrait on the wall,
Of someone sweet and kind;
Who will never be forgotten,
By those who were left behind;

When we gather together again,
When God gives his call;
We will discover very soon,
That portrait is not faded at all;

Potrait of a Poem, By Ollie Owl.

In words there is music,
Of what the writers feel;
Whether it be mere fantasy,
Or whether it be for real;

A beautiful Portrait painted,
By the artist's loving hand;
Offers reasons to the meaning,
Of all that in life will demand;

The poem is a portrait,
That is a work of Art;
With words instead of colors,
It tends the broken heart;

Creating nothing from nothing!

Fractional Banking is nothing more than a Ponzi Scheme!

In fractional banking, what do you get when you create nothing from nothing?
Billions of dollars in profits for the National/International banking interests and
trillions of dollars in losses for the tax payers. The losses in the housing market is one of
the latest excuses that the Ponzi Schemers are using for the current failing economy!

The Economy Balloon:

The economy balloon is filled with false assets created by fractional banking.
Before the balloon bursts, the financial interests sell their inflated stock at a previous
set cap. The same stock they bought for pennies during a previous economic downturn.
Once the balloon is full and ready to burst, the Financial interests skim the profits
from the top. After the balloon has been opened the invented assets begin disappearing
and the average investors lose billions of dollars. Soon that balloon is empty; but the
original depositors money is guaranteed by the tax payers. The profits that were skimmed
are sent overseas to secret bank accounts. Eventually the stocks go down and are
worth only pennies again. The financial interest then goes to the government for a
bailout, in which they use to buy up the cheap stocks and to buy out their competitors!
(They will never use their own money).

Suddenly, the economy begins to go up, depositors start putting money into their
savings accounts and fractional banking kicks back in creating assets out of thin air.
And the process for the Ponzi Schemers begins again to reap huge profits at the
tax payers expense. You can't go to the government because; in my opinion, their
part of this scheme!

In that the Congressional feeding trough is empty where does the bailout money
come from? Why it's borrowed from the same financial interests that have already
ripped off the tax payers. Putting this nation farther and farther in debt. thus, the
financial interest will collect billions of dollars through interest on the National Debt!

Politics 1001. How to become a succcessful politician

Once elected, immediately begin collecting funds for your reelection campaign!

Never let your left hand (the voters) know what you're right hand is doing ( receiving Gifts? from
the PACs, Corporations, Special Interest Groups)!

Lie as if there is no tomorrow, if you don't you may not have a tomorrow!
You may not get reelected.

When you can't attack the message, attacked the messenger!

Tell the voters everything they want to hear and then deliver nothing!

If you are a new member, read the book "The Art of Back Scratching"!

Be fluent in the language of lawyerese!

Get the getting while the getting is good from the lobbyists. Maintain the
attitude that if you don't, they'll just buy someone else off!

Set up a secret offshore banking account!

Sign on to every law that you know has no chance of ever being passed!

If that law you signed onto comes up for vote, be absent that day!

Learn to sleep with your eyes open during the day because you'll be
up late many nights passing laws to benefit the special interests groups before
the voters can become aware of what you're doing! Later you can explain to the
people that you had a momentary lapse! they're gullible and will believe you!

Remember above all, that the PACs, Corporations and Special Interest groups
own you. If you expect a high paying job with them after your political career is
over, you'll have to dance to their tune!