Stories of the Current Times

Recent Poetry


Thomas Theodore Welborn






Hard Lessons


Yesterday God saw the faces of yet more children killed

Motionless “collateral damage”

As if all asleep, but eyes open and bodies ruined.

Their future, their dreams, extinguished by fire.

By death for sale in ‘free markets’

Where mountains of ‘capital’

Accumulate…Soaked in blood.

Blood soaked mountains of money.  Blood money.


  And the ‘mountain men’ of ‘capital’

Sit in sanitized plush villas by the sea

Trying to think of ways to increase the conspicuousness

Of their wanton consumption, and of better ways to kill…

They cannot help keep a big smile from crossing their faces –

As they watch Israel try to

“Teach them (Hamas) a lesson”

And as Hamas responds in kind… because both are going to need

More weapons now…more missiles, more rockets, more bombs…

That smile keeps getting bigger…But God is not smiling

And when God looks at the Capitalist in his sanitized villa

He sees a blood soaked villain…

A despicable wretched foul servant of Satan,

 Consuming the flesh of children,

drinking their blood from wine bottles.

God see them as they are,

And once long ago His child spoke to them a warning:

“It would have been better to had never been born

Than to harm one hair on the heads of children”.


 Thomas T. Welborn                                                                                                                      






When I was six years old

By the teacher I was told

To “pledge allegiance to the flag”

And so I said those words

Each day…”liberty and justice for all”                                                                          


I was your average boy

Back then I didn’t think too much about it                                                                                                    


Even images of Vietnam

Of torn, bleeding boys in soldier uniforms

On the TV news

Did not disturb me then –

We went out and ‘played’ army 

We ‘played’ at killing

Cause we were raised to know unquestioned

That’s what Americans do! 

And we were raised to know Americans

“work hard!”,  though

They now allowed us a ‘mere’ 40 hour week

In the land of opportunity

With that daily recital of “Liberty and Justice…”


And as I grew I learned how generously

They gave us the Bill of Rights

Guaranteed as long as those rights don’t interfere

With their pursuit (or hold)

Of/on power and wealth


I didn’t even know at the time who

Martin Luther Kings Jr. was

Or how truth and justice

Could be twisted, even reversed


When JFK was killed I remember everyone crying

In my second grade class

We were crying because they killed our President

We should have been crying for ourselves.


Thomas Theodore Welborn                                                         




The Road Not Taken


Yesterdays a memory

Tomorrows but a dream

Today we chose the road we take

With nothing in between


We can’t go back and change it

No matter how we try

In our minds we re-arrange it

But that is just a lie


So we’re stuck with going forward

As still as we may stand

We are traveling through the universe

To a far and distant land


On a journey to the future

That emerges from the past

How we got here we can know not

But it seems we have a task


To become that which has brought us

From the slime to mortal man

By such ancient evolution

According to the plan


Not by accident we flounder

Toward a light dimly perceived

Nor is it any wonder

How we’re easily deceived


For the gift of free will’s freedom

Means it’s up to us to choose

Between what’s truly good and evil

When there’s everything to lose


Through the doors of possibility

We open with our mind

We can find the way to freedom

If we’re loving and we’re kind


For the secret we’ve been missing

Is the key to heaven’s door

Cause you know if ‘ere we find it

There will be peace forevermore


But it’s not within the treasures

Here on earth that we all hoard

It’s the way of truth and brotherhood

It’s by love we’ll be restored


To that garden where it all began

A heaven that’s endured

If we take the road that leads us home

Our happiness assured


You see the reason we were put here

Was to become our very best

But to be it you must see it -

Only then we pass the test –


And from our journey we can rest.


 Thomas Theodore Welborn                                                      








For My Dad


From here to there- the story of a life

No one knows the reckoning

 The struggles and the strife

No one knows the love that dwells within a heart

But if you’re talking about my Dad

That’s as good a place to start


Fetching water from a well

Coal for heat in cast iron stoves

To the outhouse in the cold

An orange was a treasure trove


Kerosene for lamps at night

Summer’s heat soaked through and through

Sometimes supper was a little slight

Sometimes no money to buy new shoes


His coal miner Father did what he could

He bartered and traded for most of their goods

His Mother’s love was always there

And in simpler times a child had few cares


For despite being  poor, he still could see

That dirt cannot soil a man’s dignity

And ragged clothes   do not express

The character   within one’s chest


The fire within was burning bright

And he always knew he’d be alright

And so he grew into a man

Tall of stature and strong of hand


Within his world he carved his place

“The Big Deal” they called him for his talents on base

For sports were always his love and dream

And but for luck who knows what might have been


But he moved on,  to the factory life

And fathered three kids,  by his first wife

She is my Mother and I their first pup

But after three years their marriage broke up


He joined the army and we moved back home

To be near her parents and raise us alone

He remarried twice (Mom did when we’d grown)

He moved to Chicago, a long ways from home


And that was our life to be from that time on

We’d see him some weekend and then he’s be gone

Seemed nothing could fill the hole that he left

Though we knew that he loved us it was something like death


Each time he would leave, re-opened that hole

In him as well – more than we could know

But he started a new life and fathered a new son

With his Arkansas wife, up near Lake Michigan


And there he lived out his life, seeing us when he can

Thirty-five years in a warehouse took its toll on the man


He retired in his sixties to be Grandfather Curt

Still tall in his stature but far from the dirt

And despite being stubborn and mean now and then

He was the most loving man,  right to the end


For suffering illness took him at seventy one

And none can replace that big son of a gun

He was a good man who gave all that he could

For family was to him what made life so good


And I know  that he knows

that we love him still

That we’ll always remember-

They called him “The Big Deal”.


  Thomas Theodore Welborn                                                                           





Forever My Mother


 For the countless hours you cared for me                                                                                               

For the million times you soothed my woes

For the endless trials and tribulations

I’ve caused you, more than I even know


For the sleepless nights you rocked my cradle

For the long days toils to buy our bread

For the reasons you chose to raise us alone

For the Christian light by which you led


For the gift of a loving, safe, and happy home

For the toys at Christmas we took for granted

For the trips to your parents in Logan County

And the love of the earth that in me you planted


For the care of old Spot when he got constipated

For the freedom to rebel and to find my own way

For my first drum set and the band-room basement

For your patient understanding at the noise when I would play


For our first color TV, air conditioner, car

For never having to haul coal or water from the well

Unlike your parents and you before us

We sure had it ‘swell’


For the heritage of Sandsprings

We are ‘pioneers’ at heart

For the dignity of those called ‘Grise’

There’s no better way to start


For the pain of childbirth you endured

To bring me into the world

For the pains borne of your sacrifices

For your children were your world


For all these things and countless more

These words express my gratitude

That flows up from my very soul

Each time I think of you


For I’ve been blessed among mortal men

An Angel twas my Mother

But more than any words can say

Was her love, a gift, beyond any other


Unconditional, never failing, always there

Complete and perfect was the love she gave

A treasure beyond time and space

So Forever will I honor her


      Forever my Mother, most dear.


                                                  Thomas Welborn





Marta Ann


Can you measure a heart?

When the love within

Belies its external dimensions

When the sum is more than its parts?


That is my sister encapsulated

Part Grise, part Welborn, all heart

A heart so overflowing love

She could not help but spend her life










Uncounted selfless sacrifices

Of charity and kindness

Freely flowing from love and faith

And the hope of giving happiness


Giving happiness and love

To everyone and everything

That beautiful amazing heart touches


That is my sister, Marta Ann



     Thomas T. Welborn                                                    




Photography as Art
Photography as Art 2
Photography as Art 3
Photographs and Memories
Photographs and Memories 2
Stories of Another Time
Stories of the Current Times
Stories of Times to Come
In the Land of Evermore
Indianola Avenue
A Christmas Poem
About the Author/ Artist

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