Category Archives: Poetry

Patient (A poem)

Could you ever know,
How patient I have been?
Waiting in the line of life,
Trembling with anticipation,
Feeling the lost grasp but knowing still its possibility.
I trust where I am going.

Though beautiful it may be,
The flesh only excites the surface of me.
I seek the core where light is born,
The space where you truly exist,
Not singing human praises to human ears,
But whispering solemn hymns, known in parts of me that only know the sacred chants of love.

Yes, these fingertips wish to draw on you,
Raise bumps of sheer delight from your soul,
This heart wishes to touch your own,
Hear rhythm ringing through the ether like a drumbeat,
Calling out your name,
Hearing you echo in return.

I don’t miss the sand between my toes,
I have the view of thousand of steps before my eyes,
Come see it with me, like a stairway to heaven,
And know that you are found,
Alive in safety, alive in love, alive in truth,
Seeking the flame that lights the way.

I desire, and I have waited.
You may never know how patient I have been,
Stepping lightly around the potholes,
Sweetly jumping over the crevices on this path,
Resting on the jagged boulders that line the way.
Knowing that soon…

The Tale of a Life Well Lived

The world so viewed,
Through eyes unseen,
A trinity before your god was born,
Beholden to nothing, but owed so much,
Just a babe, a basket, in a stream.
The love so held,
In longing, empty arms,
Absent all their melancholy,
Yet full of such despair,
Youth begotten in the prongs of Satan’s fork.
A darkness so strong,
Dismissed by the faintest light,
A love with rage so nullified,
A rage with love so forgotten,
A torch that guides the way.
A shadow speaks through remembered whim,
Forgotten as it plays outside the lines,
Life born, birthed by a single flame,
So living has passed by this aged shell,
Old age, a flame dimmed but still burning strong.
A light diminished, a lamp now turned to ash,
Still burns in the embers left behind,
Footsteps carved in well-hewn sand,
Once-kissed lips left to sing the song,
Abandoned memories too alive to be forgotten.
Thus the tale of life well-lived,
Death sure to come in the living prose,
The pages worn but given life eternal,
The bindings frail but the story bound forever,
The climax of a song that truly has no end.
For there was a time when you imagined me,
And I imagined you,
Where love was not made save on the fabric of our minds,
Woven tapestry left crumpled on the floor,
The truth set free by a lover’s courage.
Then we danced together in the snow,
Sharing pictures as we twirled,
Gazing into love’s own eyes,
As I entered, as you let me in,
Never leaving, even when the aged light when dim.
In that final breath, in the sincerity of our eternity,
I see those footprints in the sand,
A traveler once wandered aimlessly,
A Bedouin with ancient sand between his toes,
Now sees those footprints led to you.
Thus the tale of a life well-lived,
Love sure to cradle life in his arms,
Life sure to taste love on her lips,
A man discovered life in a woman,
A woman discovered love in a man.
Thus, the story told…

In A Dream

There is a place where I can fly,
Where my voice remains in tune,
Where my thoughts are pure and my mind intact,
Asleep under the Harvest Moon.

Here I can do anything,
There is nothing I cannot withstand,
I can face the end of all that is,
I can even hold your hand.

The heart-shaped clouds of yesterday,
Now seen by a mountain stream,
The visions of all that ever was,
Are found living in a dream.

There is a place where we can roam,
We dance among the stars,
The mission of our greatest love,
Was born within our scars.

Here we bask in love’s sweet glow,
Destiny, our only guide,
For what we found in each other’s eyes,
Is the truth we found inside.

The urban sounds of yesterday,
Replaced by nature’s sacred screams,
For the song we now sing as one,
We first discovered in a dream.


photo by: Tatiana_0000

In My Blindness Once (A Poem)

I remember, in my blindness once,
It’s amazing what you can hear when you are no longer focused on the lust of the eyes,
When you are no longer driven by the thrust of curiosity.
The world shrinks, like a star collapsing upon itself.
I suddenly could hear every sound,
The machines surrounding me, sure to warn of my impending doom,
The footsteps of care making their way, screeching across the tiled floor,
The sounds of a lover sleeping gently somewhere just beyond my reach.
I could hear the moans of suffering from beyond a door I could not see,
And hear the subtle voices of concern from those surely worried about an end.
Pleading for something else,
Searching for just one more chance to say “good morning.”
I could hear the ticking of a clock,
Yet I remained unsure if that clock was hanging dutifully on a wall,
Or somehow lived within me,
Counting, silently in a circle that one day would run out of time.
I could hear the sounds of my own heart beating,
Defying the odds yet again, warning me that I had not finished,
“There is more to do, so much more to do,
Keep hearing, listening to the sounds within you, and you will find your path.”
Too often we are told, that listening means hearing yet another,
And we listen to the point where we can no longer hear ourselves,
Stand! do not fail to hear that voice that beats inside you,
Obey not them, but the magic that lives within you.
I remember, in my blindness once,
It’s amazing what you can hear when you are forced to finally listen.
When you are no longer distracted by the image of the flower,
You can actually hear it sing its song.
photo by: Bea Serendipity

No More Heart to Give

In the solace of my silent moments,
She asks me…
Are you leaving me?
A star explodes in the instant,
An unkindness takes to flight in the distance,
Dancing as ravens will, blocking the supernova,
Keeping me at bay.
I have never left you.
Though I’ve tried,
To play on fields not to my full liking,
To hear the song too noisy for my ears.
I have never left you,
It seems an impossibility.
For when you call me I shall come,
And when you need me you shall hardly need to whisper my name.
Then I ask of you,
Are you coming, dearest one?
Are you willing to walk through time and space,
Never wondering again?
I have never left you.
And though I walk to that other place,
You know the one…
My body heads for the valley below,
Though my heart remains with you at the summit.
I shall never leave you,
Unless it is you who fails to arrive.
For try as I might I cannot lie,
I have no more heart to give.

I Love You (A Poem)

I softly want to remind you,
That I love you.
That to touch you is my desire,
To care for you is my hope,
To kiss you is my mountaintop,
To see you free is my dream.

I’d like to kindly tell you,
That I love you.
That to support you would be my pleasure,
To hear you laugh my joy,
To carry you when tired my strength,
To extend a hand when you have stumbled, my want.

I’d like to show you,
That I love you.
That through the moments when the storm clouds come,
And the rains pour, the hail pummels our surroundings,
You will not ride the storm alone,
We’ll both be soaked to laugh when the Sun returns triumphant.

Because it’s true…all of it.
I love you.
My heart, my soul, the sweat from my aging brow,
Is yours when you come needing my arrival.
My mind, my moments, the remnants of my aging scars,
Bow to your presence, and the empty space you fill.

Beautiful (A Poem)

She is beautiful,
Distracting, from the mountain landscape,
Stopping my breath as I forget I need to breathe.
Stealing the Sun from my view, I absorb her upon the horizon.
She is beautiful,
Mixing with the fragrance of flowers that line our trail,
I hear her voice, silencing the songbirds in awe,
To feel her touch is to feel the hand of God Herself.
She is beautiful,
The mixture of rain and dirt has birthed such wonderful fruit,
Her tears uniting with the ether to spawn such exquisite virtue,
The stars can only hold her in such high esteem.
With her, I am beautiful,
A man whose folly has led him to such repose,
A soul who’s lived in sweet expectation,
A heart shattered to expose the truth beneath.
In her, I see the world, beautiful,
The air crisper, the sky more blue,
The waters flow clean, effortlessly down the way,
I bend my lips to drink from her recovery.
There, beside me still, beautiful
She lives either in hope or memory,
A whispered promise, a tempered prose,
I spring alive in my aloneness, found.
And it is beautiful,
A man not living on their bread alone,
A soul recognized in the heap of his distraction,
In her, that empty space that knows her name.
photo by: James Jordan

My Destination Still (A Poem)

He’d heard something,
On his way to Long Bay,
Something in the tides,
Of the summer breeze,
Had changed.
He’d felt something,
On his way to her sandy shores,
A subtle shift, a wave of ecstasy,
A bit of rum left glistening,
Her lips betrayed a pirate’s treasure.
Alas, a ship moored to her pier,
Her winds softly poking at my sails,
Her waves gently lapping in my mind,
My compass points to her horizon,
But where the Sun set this bow may never kiss.
Gone forever in the raging sea,
A simple star, a sail unfurled within my passion,
Pressed upon by my desire,
Driven onward by a twist of fate unknown,
She remains my destination still.

The Magnificent Goddess

She’s beautiful, like a spring forest,
I am unable to speak in her visage,
Fumbling for words, am I,
My own thoughts betray my stoic form.

Soft, like the snow brushed softly on my winter’s canvas,
She’s there, in my soul written through my hand,
I can taste and touch but I cannot feel,
For close though she is, the distance divides us still.

My heart bleeds upon these pages,
Profuse as am I, inconsolable in their desire,
The Magnificent Goddess I cannot embrace,
Yet cannot seem to let go of.

I Heard That You Loved Me

I heard that you loved me,
It may have come from the whisper in my ear,
As you spread your breath throughout the Universe,
Kept me spellbound with the comma that you used.

I heard that you loved me,
It may have come from a word or two you've written,
As the ink you poured from your soul,
Streaked upon the stained paper of my mind.

I heard that you loved me,
It didn't come from what you've done,
In your absence I only heard your fear,
As you fought one destiny with the sword of another.

Because though I heard you loved me,
My reality is different from that dream.
As I lay my head to rest in the the pasture,
I only share myself with blades of grass that save me from the grave. 

Yes, I heard that you loved me,
Perhaps it was an echo from some oath once spoken in a cave,
Or some twinkle from a star burned out so many years ago,
A man wobbled in his humanity, seeking balance in the shade.

For I lived when I heard that you have loved me,
And died in the moment written by an empty, outstretched hand,
No more to call your name for now I am shouting against the wind,
Deafness comes especially harsh to those who wish to hear.

Now, I heard that you love me,
With every crunching of the stones beneath my feet, 
As I head west, and you stay east, 
The Sun now setting, but it surely will rise again.