Did you ever try to return to a place you once loved, thinking it would still be as you left it? It’s not always a good idea. The Bible warns against looking back when we should be pressing on ahead for the prize. The temptation comes to all of us at some time, and on such an occasion I wrote a few lines as a warning to myself not to try it again…



The place I’ve missed

Does not exist Nick

It’s on no list

It’s not a statistic

(Copyright © Nick Fisher)




Well, the neighborhood bully, he’s just one man
His enemies say he’s on their land
They got him outnumbered about a million to one
He got no place to escape to, no place to run
He’s the neighborhood bully

The neighborhood bully just lives to survive
He’s criticized and condemned for being alive
He’s not supposed to fight back, he’s supposed to have thick skin
He’s supposed to lay down and die when his door is kicked in
He’s the neighborhood bully

The neighborhood bully been driven out of every land
He’s wandered the earth an exiled man
Seen his family scattered, his people hounded and torn
He’s always on trial for just being born
He’s the neighborhood bully

Well, he knocked out a lynch mob, he was criticized
Old women condemned him, said he should apologize.
Then he destroyed a bomb factory, nobody was glad
The bombs were meant for him. He was supposed to feel bad
He’s the neighborhood bully

Well, the chances are against it and the odds are slim
That he’ll live by the rules that the world makes for him
’Cause there’s a noose at his neck and a gun at his back
And a license to kill him is given out to every maniac
He’s the neighborhood bully

He got no allies to really speak of
What he gets he must pay for, he don’t get it out of love
He buys obsolete weapons and he won’t be denied
But no one sends flesh and blood to fight by his side
He’s the neighborhood bully

Well, he’s surrounded by pacifists who all want peace
They pray for it nightly that the bloodshed must cease
Now, they wouldn’t hurt a fly. To hurt one they would weep
They lay and they wait for this bully to fall asleep
He’s the neighborhood bully

Every empire that’s enslaved him is gone
Egypt and Rome, even the great Babylon
He’s made a garden of paradise in the desert sand
In bed with nobody, under no one’s command
He’s the neighborhood bully

Now his holiest books have been trampled upon
No contract he signed was worth what it was written on
He took the crumbs of the world and he turned it into wealth
Took sickness and disease and he turned it into health
He’s the neighborhood bully

What’s anybody indebted to him for?
Nothin’, they say. He just likes to cause war
Pride and prejudice and superstition indeed
They wait for this bully like a dog waits to feed
He’s the neighborhood bully

What has he done to wear so many scars?
Does he change the course of rivers? Does he pollute the moon and stars?
Neighborhood bully, standing on the hill
Running out the clock, time standing still
Neighborhood bully



MAY 2012 to JULY 2013 158

(this post is a continuation of the previous one, titled “Throwing paint for the glory of God”)


Dear God, why did you have to make

A thing to look like that?

It seems as though you took some paint

And threw it with a splat

Why did you form the toad, the worm,

They aren’t the least bit pretty

You should have made them all look like

A cuddly little kitty

MAY 2012 to JULY 2013 089

The North Pole was a huge mistake

Why can’t you get it right?

You really ought to know that

There is more to life than white

I’ll bet that when you stretched the sky

You mocked us with your jape

Just miles of empty, boring space

And clouds all nothing-shape

Why make the mountains quite so high

When they are only girt

With plain old white stuff on the top-

And under, rocks and dirt?

MAY 2012 to JULY 2013 049

And what on earth can be the good

Of forest, and the jungle?

It’s clear to me you dumped the leaves

And wood into a jumble

The desert is a pointless thing

It’s hot and such a bore

Just looking at its emptiness

Is nothing but a chore

What were you thinking when you made

That vast expanse of sea?

Just why it’s all so wet and blue is

Leagues away from me

MAY 2012 to JULY 2013 043

No noises you created can

Express a song or hymn

Your birds all twitter out of tune

And water makes a din

So all in all dear God I think

I’ll grade you (and please muse it)

By giving “C” for Tech, but only

“F” for Art and Music

© Nick Fisher, October 18th 2013, including poem and pictures.