Arthur C. Ford

BIO-SKETCH OF Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet

Arthur C. Ford,Sr. was born and bred in New Orleans,LA..(www.thepoetbandcompany.yolasite.com)(wewuvpoetry@hotmail.com) He earned a Bachelor of Science Degree from Southern University in New Orleans,where he studied creative writing and was also a member of the Drama Society. He has visited 45 states in America and resided for two years in Brussels,Belgium(Europe).He presently resides in Pittsburgh,PA.

His poetry(lyrics) and prose have been published throughout America,Canada,etc.He spent 30 days(July,2011) doing missionary work and travelling throughout the country of India.

Please consider publishing my original creations.

Yours in words,

arthur c. ford,sr.

AT LEAST HALF

At least half of WWII Vets' daughters and sons

fought the Vietcongs

Proving history repeats itself,

wrong begets more wrong.

At least half of Vietnam Vets' daughters and sons

were sent to the Far East

Proving mankind eats mankind

our children are our feast.

Persistency in dying

through generations of daughters and sons.

while ma's and pa's at home are crying

and spouses carry burdens in tons.

Fathers' daughters wait for their sisters and brothers.

Kids weep for their dear moms and dads.

Boyfriends write letters to lassies,

girls friends pensively want their lads.

The blood just takes on surnames

traditions just don't care

count the daughters and sons of WWI Vets

in WWII, at least half were there.

My daughters, my daughters, my sons, my sons

embrace your daughters and sons

for they are going, even though many have been,

we know not what their plight maybe or what war they will fight in.

My daughters, my daughters, my sons, my sons,

I know not what war means,

I only feel it will never cease,

Until Jesus intervenes.

By: Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet/editor

www.thepoetbandcompany.yolasite.com

wewuvpoetry@hotmail.com

ENTERTAINMENT!

Immortal ones need not entertain

Mortal ones should,

The British has royalty

We have hollywood.

By: Arthur C. Ford,Sr.

For Whitney Houston

(1963-2012)

Wayward ways are in us all,

Home is where we're bounded.

In prayer we find our piece and peace

Time is love, that's founded.

Never to be forgotten

Every note you knit octaves

Yesteryears, can not be paved.

BY: Arthur C. Ford,Sr.,poet/editor

www.thepoetbandcompany.yolasite.com

wewuvpoetry@hotmail.com