About Rawclyde!

I have employed a few pen names throughout the years ~ Rawclyde with an exclamation mark (!) is the one too sticky to go away...

dust devil dance

by rawclyde



Slap happy

grand pappy

snappy shirt

stupid flirt

don’t wanna hurt

whistling dirt

dust devil swirls



bully man curls

the dumb bell

william tell

shoots an arrow

at the sparrow

& misses


deep-end blue

from you

never got one

my only fun


your fermenting






for clyde

glorious glance

it’s the dust devil dance



miley cyrus


ned buntline



copyright clyde collins 2020


fighting for sophia



by Fred Pratt Green



Of all the Spirit’s gifts to me,

I pray that I may never cease

to take and treasure most these three:

love, joy, and peace.


The Spirit shows me love’s

the root of every gift sent from above,

of every flower, of every fruit,

that God is love.



The Spirit shows if I possess

a love no evil can destroy;

how ever great is my distress,

then this is joy.


Though what’s ahead is mystery,

and life itself is ours on lease,

each day the Spirit says to me,

“Go forth in peace!”


We go in peace, but made aware

that, in a needy world like this,

our clearest purpose is to share

love, joy, and peace.




Copyright 1979 Hope Publishing Co.

found in The United Methodist Hymnal

art 1

statue of athena

greek goddess of war & wisdom

art 2

kali and the virgin by james roderick








Yin n’ yang

hot dang



fart n’ spout

read all about

& abovely

without gout

ye teach us great

& regulate

manners o’ sublime

not a mate

a renegade pal

a workin’ gal

lots o’ sign

lots o’ snow

lots o’ glow

happy valentine





(copyright clyde collins 2020)

pass it on

by kurt kaiser


it only takes a spark to get a fire going

and soon all those around can warm up in its glowing

that’s how it is with God’s love once you’ve experienced it

you spread his love to everyone, you want to pass it on



what a wondrous time is spring when all the trees are budding

the birds begin to sing, the flowers start their blooming

that’s how it is with God’s love once you’ve experienced it

you want to sing, it’s fresh like spring, you want to pass it on



i wish for you, my friend, the happiness that I’ve found

you can depend on him, it matters not where you’re bound

i’ll shout it from the mountain top, i want my world to know

the Lord of love has come to me, I want to pass it on



text found in

the united methodist hymnal






divine love

by sister juana ines de la cruz …………………………………………………………………………………


There’s something disturbing me

so subtle, to be sure,

that though I feel it keenly,

it’s not hard to endure.


It’s love, but love, for once,

without a blindfold ~ whence

whoever sees his eyes,

feels torture the more intense.


It’s not from their terminus a quo

that my sufferings arise,

for their terminus is the Good;

it’s in distance that suffering lies.


If this emotion of mine

is proper ~ indeed, is love’s due ~

why must I be chastised

for paying what I owe?


Oh, all the consideration,

the tenderness I have seen:

when love is placed in God,

nothing else can intervene.


From what is legitimate

it cannot deviate;

no risk of being forgotten

need it ever contemplate.


I recall ~ were it not so ~

a time when the love I knew

went far beyond madness even,

reached excesses known to few,


but being a bastard love,

built on warring tensions,

it simply fell apart

from its own dissensions.


But oh, being now directed

to the goal true lovers know,

through virtue and reason alone

it must stronger and stronger grow.


Therefore one might inquire

why it is I still languish.

My troubled heart would reply:

what makes my joy makes my anguish.



Yes, from human weakness,

in the midst of purest affection,

we still remain a prey

to natural dejection.


To see our love returned

is so insistent a craving

that even when out of place,

we still find it enslaving.


It means nothing in this instance

that my love be reciprocated;

yet no matter how hard I try,

the need persists unabated.


If this is a sin, I confess it,

if a crime, I must avow it;

the one thing I cannot do

is repent and disallow it.


The one who has power to probe

the secrets of my breast,

has seen that I am the cause

of my suffering and distress.


Well he knows that I myself

have put my desires to death ~

my worries smother them,

their tomb is my own breast.


I die (who would believe it?)

at the hands of what I love best.

What is it puts me to death?

The very love I profess.


Thus, with deadly poison

I keep my life alive:

the very death I live

is the life of which I die.


Still, take courage, heart:

when torture becomes so sweet,

whatever may be my lot,

from love I’ll not retreat.



translation by alan s. trueblood

 a sor juana anthology