I’ve decided to let you guys in on one of my many passions in life…
I have been writing poetry since I was little and I don’t usually let anyone read them but I have decided that whats the point in writing it if no one is ever going to get to enjoy it…
Anyways, here is a few I wrote over my teenage years…There not in any specific order so they may not make sense if you think of them as being writting one right after another because they weren’t…
Winter Roads
I cannot speak for all who stem
‘Long roads less traveled as their way
Nor question choices made by them
In days long past or nights long dim
by words they spoke and did not say.
Each road is long, though short it seems,
And credence gives each road a name
Of fantasies sun-drenched in beams
Or choices turned to darkened dreams,
To where each road wends just the same.
From North to South, then back again,
I followed birds like all the rest
Escaping nature’s snowy den
On roads I’ve seen and places been,
Forsaking roads that traveled West.
This journey grows now to its end,
As road reflections lined in chrome
Give way to roads with greater bend
And empty signs that still pretend
They point the way to home sweet home.
But all roads lead to where we go
And where we go is where we’ve been,
So home is just a word we know,
That space in time most apropos
For where we want to be again.
For even home, it seems to me,
Is still a choice we all must face
From day to day and endlessly,
To choose if home is going to be
Another road – or just a place.
Let it Fall
One more anti-hero to worship
from the depths
of some enigmatic fool
that left the suburbs
for the open fields
of post modern flight from hell.
No, not from the quakes
or the rumblings of racism,
that stench we all tend
to want to get rid of,
but the fact that there
were just too many things wrong.
So off I went to the last
journey of my youth,
through the pubs and alleys
of Ponca City that serves
many nights of reckless talk
and the establisment be damned.
There goes happy house, scream
and all those open up at 10 pm
party houses, where you paid 5 bucks
to drink yourself to life,
and walk out Saturday morning at 6 am
like the kind demons we were.
And dance the pain that we has
kept for the week
and wonder what 30 would be like
and if the Virgin Prunes
were right about
“If I die I die”.
But then, that love in your soul
the one that makes you write
and pour out those false indignities
that caress your heart and mind
for after all we’ve been through
stars have their moments and then they die.
In times of
My soul drifts aimlessly in times of hopelessness
It searches tirelessly for meaning and truth
Yet finds no direction
My hearts bleeds quietly in times of loneliness.
It yearns to find warmth and happiness…
Yet it somehow eludes me.
My eyes seek out visions in times of want.
They gaze endlessly through the blackness that envelops them…
Yet they cannot see the light.
My ears listen earnestly in times of silence.
They search for familar sounds to comfort and console…
Yet they cannot penetrate the darkness that surrounds me.
My arms reach out frantically in times of despair.
They seek strength and compassion to enfold me…
Yet they find nothing substantial to enwrap.
My mind cries out desperatly in times of solitude.
It poses intence questions that demand answers…
Yet there are none to be found.
***
My hand reaches out earnestly in these times of confustion.
It dials the number of a familar and calming voice
And gratefully, my lifeline to sanity…remains intact.
Drifting
I sometimes find I’m drifting
Through this life without effect;
I often wonder if I’m truy
Worth what I’ve been blessed
I search through days that have been hard,
To try to understand,
The many trials that I have known,
The life that I have had.
You see me in my daily gring,
So confident and strong;
Yet when I am along, I question
Just where I belong.
I often try too hard I find,
To analyze and guess,
To scrutinize, investigate
My life I will confess.
For somewhere deeper, there must be
Some meaning to this life,
Some way to make a difference,
Give a reason for this strife.
Is there some hidden meaning?
Some agenda to be found>
A greater purpose waiting
If I care to hang around?
It teases and it taunts me,
Always slightly out of sight;
A hazy vision out of reach,
Where darkness hides the light.
I struggle to bring clarity
To what awaits me there,
And yet this weak illusion
Always fades before my stare.
It seems the harder that I try,
To focus through the haze,
Just serves to add more questions,
Through my endless, tired gaze.
Perhaps I’m trying just too hard,
To understand it all,
For can we ever truly know
Just what we have in store?
Each incident, each moment passed,
Just adds upon the next,
But in the end, will I find truth…
Or will I be perplexed?
Perhaps I make it harder
Than it has to be sometimes,
But will my searching bring to me
My meaning over time?
Or will it leave me broken,
And confused as I feel now,
While questions bring no solitude,
To this, my wrinkled brow.
Anyways, I’ll perodically post more of my poetry for us guys. Let me know what you think of it.
