Clay Walker – Streetlight Protest [Poetry]

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Blue, the color of peace
But not tonight.
Tonight, blue is screaming
“Stop!”
Only to fall on deaf ears.
Anger has smothered peace
Mixing blue with red
The color of vengeance–blood.
Confusion has stirred the hatred
Which rests like the Punxsutawney Groundhog.
Tonight, there was a shadow.
So much for spring.
Brave leaders are in hiding
Evading their own motorcade targets
Leaving today’s hopeless
With less hope than yesterday.
When will change ever stand resolute?
Why can’t the sin of hate be washed
With the same cloth that has washed
The heads of those from generations past
And generations to come?
Are not we all crawling toward the same light?
The one that comes when our eyes are closed.
Are not we all questing for love?
The kind that is labeled indiscriminate.
Are not we all filled with the same truth?
The one that offends some
While binding many others.
The one that is deeply rooted
Producing generational fruits.
The one that shared beliefs shun
Yet shared believers inadvertently hone.
The truth, that we’d all rather hate
Because to love is to forgive
And to forgive is to lose your voice.
So hating perpetuates the fight
Keeping our voices heard–loudly!
Until the day the opponent concedes.
Unfortunately, the opponent is self
And no one’s self is willing to lose.
Hence the reason blue lights are screaming
And no one is listening.

©2014 Clay Walker. All Rights Reserved.

 

Welcome to My Blog!

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Many people have asked me, “How do you manage a fulltime career while pursuing your dreams?”

Well, this blog will answer that question, and more. It is designed to inspire the “9-to-5 Dreamer.” Do you have any dreams that you’d like to pursue? What are they?

Sound off in the comments and please share this post.

Respectfully,

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My Cure for Writer’s Block

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Some authors retreat to their writer’s corner in their home or local coffee shop, but as for me, I retreat to the room that surprises most, my guest room. 

The neutral energy resting within the room which traditionally is reserved for visitors accords me the opportunity to transcend into the colorful, dramatic, and, often, overwhelming world of writing.

In this room I feel safe. Safe to be vulnerable.  Safe to dream big.  And, safe to explore … darkness.

In this room my characters are free to roam around uninhibitedly. Have you met Christion, Sebastian, Simone, or Damien?  Each of them are awaiting to make your acquaintance.

My guest room is my cure. What’s yours?
Sound off in the comments section below.

 

Respectfully,

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When it All Started: the Day I KNEW I Wanted to be a Writer

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In 2008, I was driving up Highway 101 headed back to my duty station when a voice said to me, “Look left.”

I immediately obeyed, and as I did, I witnessed high waves crashing into the coast line.  As I marveled at the strength of the Pacific Ocean, I then got the revelation that one day I would write a book and that my protagonist would come to this very location to seek refuge.   As soon as I returned my eyes back to the road, I noticed a sign that read “Refugio State Beach.”  It was then I knew my life had been changed.

Do you remember the day your life-changing moment occurred?
I’d love to read your reply below in the comments section.

Respectfully,

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The First Time I Smiled

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On July 3, 2010, I smiled with glee for the first time in my adulthood.  I had completed my first manuscript.

It was not perfect, but it was complete.  I had poured out 55,000 words from my heart, and I was ready to share it with the world.

I remember feeling like I could conquer anything at that moment.  I’m smiling NOW just staring at this photo.  :)

 

 

Respectfully,

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