A Collection Of Writings: poem

Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Stare Out at the Sea

Like a wet bench on a lonely boardwalk
As the sun begins to set low
You and I, we barely talk
And empty is the love we knew
So long ago.

So I wander down the boardwalk,
I sit here on the bench.
Stare out into the bay
Wondering if I’ll ever find my way.
Are you happy to be gone
Right there in the room?
I just want
To find my way back to you.

The division is sharp like a knife,
I’m not going to plea.
You and I, you were my life
Now rejection is the message
You send me.

So I wander down the boardwalk,
I sit here on the bench.
Stare out into the bay
Wondering if I’ll ever find my way.
Are you happy to be gone
Right there in the room?
I just want
To find my way back to you.

We drifted apart and now
I cannot find the bridge to you.
You and I, I think we are gone.
I lay here alone and wonder
What will I do?

I get up and wander down the boardwalk,
I sit here on the bench.
Stare out into the bay
Wondering if I’ll ever find my way.
Are you happy to be gone
Right there in the room?
I just want
To find my way back to you.

I stare out at the sea,
I stare out at the sea,
Wondering if you will ever want
To find your way back to me.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Waiting and Waiting

Counting and counting,
as if that will help the time pass.
The waiting and waiting
makes me just want to get up
walk away and not return -
But I have to stay and find out.

Pacing and pacing,
as if my walking will bring the answer.
Figiting and figiting
doesn't solve anything.
I'll just have to be patient.
This will all be a memory one day.

The Last Remaining Aster Flower

The Last Remaining Aster Flower

Posses me like the very last flower
For one gentle, fleeting hour.
When my beauty is vivid and clear,
Smell the fregrance while I'm near.

Then when time takes me away,
Let your tears fall on that day.
Steal away to mend and heal
Grieve the loss, the pain you feel.

When the clock has ticked once more
Let your feet then find the floor.
Walk one step, then two, and three.
Restore your heart, but remember me.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Unexplained, She's Just Gone

I lay in bed sleepless tonight
As I ache for my love lost.
A love that was my very world,
And now I can find her nowhere.

The air tonight is restless,
Upsetting leaves and small twigs,
Battering them against my window,
Making certain I don’t slumber.

Then I hear a kindred soul,
A coyote in the dark and distance;
A long, low, lonesome call
Searching for his lost love.

I can see it now; the rain last month
Caused a mudslide as she hunted.
Her last thoughts were of him,
Then the soil burried her - just gone.

Is that the same for me, I wonder.
Where is my woman, my lover?
Fear floods me. Is she hurt, is she dead?
Our last touch was tender and sweet.

For two weeks now we've searched
I don't recall the last time I ate.
I'd be out there now, but exhaustion
Melts the marrow from my bones

"Why can't we find her?" I ask my pillow.
I loved that woman from deep inside my soul.
Brother beyond, I wish I could join you
In that long, lonesome, grieving howl.

Monday, April 13, 2009

A Line-Storm Song

The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift.
The road is forlorn all day,
Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift,
And the hoof-prints vanish away.
The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee,
Expend their bloom in vain.
Come over the hills and far with me,
And be my love in the rain.

The birds have less to say for themselves
In the wood-world's torn despair
Than now these numberless years the elves,
Although they are no less there:
All song of the woods is crushed like some
Wild, earily shattered rose.
Come, be my love in the wet woods, come,
Where the boughs rain when it blows.

There is the gale to urge behind
And bruit our singing down,
And the shallow waters aflutter with wind
From which to gather your gown.
What matter if we go clear to the west,
And come not through dry-shod?
For wilding brooch shall wet your breast
The rain-fresh goldenrod.

Oh, never this whelming east wind swells
But it seems like the sea's return
To the ancient lands where it left the shells
Before the age of the fern;
And it seems like the time when after doubt
Our love came back amain.
Oh, come forth into the storm and rout
And be my love in the rain.

Robert Frost

Monday, March 09, 2009

Sandman Girl

shhhhh... I'm creeping in so slow
into your dream-state
into your room
into your heart
into your head
into your soul
to see if you know
how much I love you

I'm telling you so soft
whispering your name
telling you the same
as I did last time
that you are mine
all the time

I'm touching your face
watching your breath
it comes, then goes
my lips on yours
I breathe for you
go into your soul
into your heart
to see if you know
how much I love you

I'm telling you so soft
whispering your name
telling you the same
as I did last time
that you are mine
all the time

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Handful of Hopes

Jacob filled out one of those forwards that kids send around to each other asking trivial questions like what's your favoirte color, who were you named after... that kind of stuff. One of the questions was "Where were you born?" He said, "My body was born in Nampa, Idaho, but my heart was born in the snow-covered hills of Alaska."

Handful of Hopes

I have the day off today
Sitting in the barracks, I rest
Till I am called out again
To fight this war and give my best.

My make-shift home, a tent
Where I live, sweat, wake and sleep.
Plywood floor, wind blows hot,
Lonely hour, then day turns into week.

I sit outside the tent door flap
And sift the sand with my hand.
I pick it up and let it fall
Imagining I am home again.

The sand becomes a snowfall
That I saw there just last year.
Riding snowmachines in the hills,
Who ever imagined that now I'd be here?

I let myself go back there for a ride.
In my mind's eye I see the snow
Clinging to the exact leafless shape
Of every other tree along the road.

The rest are evergreens, holding piles
Of snow like a Christmas card scene.
Those memories and hopes to return
Are the contents of my each and every dream.

The dry, brisk cold of the air
Invigorates my skin and burns my eyes.
I plow thorough deep drifts of snow
Riding on trails that I have memorized.

The beauty of the landscape grips me.
The temperature, now minus 10, no breeze
Looks like someone carelessly cast diamonds
On the ground and in the trees.

Dashing back to the winter cabin,
My brothers and I, we race.
We head inside, take off our gear,
See the smile on my mom's face."

Hey guys, d'ya see moose along the trail?
Was it cold? How was the ride? "
Putting aside her book she asks,
"Who's up for hot chocolate, soup or pumpkin pie?"

The whistle of mortars brings me back.
Dashing to protect from shrapnel rain,
Instinct kicks in - I drop my handful of sand
And I become an American soldier again.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

Yesterday, I Was a Child

Yesterday, I Was a Child

Yesterday, I was a child
But it's my first day of Jr. High.
Lockers, boys... and I look different.
Will they make fun of me as I walk by?

I'm scared to do this alone.
Won't you please hold my hand?
Into this place,
Afraid to show my face.
Go with me, Go with me.

Yesterday, I was a child.
Next month I'm having one of my own.
Diapers, bills, him looking up to me
Will I be strong enough or let him down?

I'm scared to do this alone.
Won't you please hold my hand?
Motherhood,
Doing what I should.
Go with me, go with me.

Yesterday, I was a child.
Today I will watch my aging mother die.
The pain of the process weathers my face.
Will I ever get over the loss of her in my life?

I'm scared to do this alone.
Won't you please hold my hand?
Memories
Of her praying on her knees.
Go with me, go with me.

Yesterday, I was a child,
I think as I close the door,
Leaving behind 25 years of marriage
And a man who doesn't love me anymore

I'm scared to do this alone.
Won't you please hold my hand?
Abuse and rage;
Time to turn the page.
Go with me, go with me.

Yesterday, I was a child,
"And that's ok," to myself I say.
This moment is a gift God's given me.
What will I do with this precious day?

I won't be doing this alone
Because He always holds my hand.
Love so dear,
He's always near,
Go with me, go with me.

Let all this maturity count for something,at least.
Don't let the pain be in vain.
Use it, Dear God, to help a hurting soul
Letting the hope of yesterday's child remain.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

UNWANTED

UN-WANTED it said
Proudly displaying the head
Of the woman in town
Who'd been more than around.

UN-WANTED, the display
Portrayed her in the worst way.
Before she came clean
And began chasing worthy dreams.

UN-WANTED it called
To passers-by who stalled
To glance at the thing nailed
Displaying the dame frail.

UN-WANTED, indeed.
Folks so tired of her need.
Tired of her shame
Having to utter her name.

UN-WANTED she knew,
Yet not sure why it was true.
Feeling hate in every glance,
Grimacing at the force-kind dance.

UN-WANTED, how she tried,
Though, in this town, she can't hide.
Found to her dismay in this place
There was no thing of grace.

UN-WANTED, no promises to keep,
She walked to the highest peak,
Filling the hopes of all in town,
She would soon no longer be around.

UN-WANTED, eager for peace,
Begged God for forgiveness, at least,
"Pray something wants me," she finished in a hush,
"Down at the bottom lying in dust."

UN-WANTED she thought
But then embrace of Peace He brought
As He taught her of His love and care,
Of His grace despite opinions around there.

UN-WANTED no more
After a season of healing for sure
She searched sweet faces of the haunted
For the curse of the UN-WANTED.

“You are NOW WANTED,” she announced
To all the hurting girls in other towns.
“Like He freed me, He'll free you too.
Now come to Him to be renewed.”

UN-WANTED parchment hung on tree -
Now there for month three.
Someone asked about her one day.
"Think she left a fortnight ago," one did say.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Young Family's Dismay

"Hey there, how's it going?"

I asked him on the phone.

"Yah, we're doing good.

We've sure missed you while you've been gone."

I wondered if he was coming back

Or if he was long gone.

That ache I held inside was black,

I just couldn't share with anyone.

But I couldn't let him see it

Or plead with some desperate sound.

It would do nothing but drive him away

I wasn't going to chase him down.

"Are you still at the mill there?

How's the work there day to day?"

That's where I stopped, but wanted to ask,

"Honey, how long will you be away?"

Just then our son ran in,

He saw me on the phone.

"Mom! Isth that Daddy?

Wenth he comin' home?"

"Hi Daddy! Thif ith Mark.

How long will you be away?

Did you know that I got on base

And 'most caught a groundball today?!

"Mom says your job there's done

Maybe nest month or two.

When you get home dad, we'll go fithin',

You know, just me and you."

The question still hung there in the air

Long after I hung up the phone.

I just didn't know how my heart could take it

... all this being alone.

No touch on my skin, no look in his eye.

No calling me up, just to say hi.

No plans for tomorrow, no hope for today.

What did I do to drive him away?

I pray a new prayer this time

At my bed and on my knees,

"God, I quit asking - I just give him to you

And be my comfort, please.

"Help me have a faithful heart,

Help me be who I need to be

For all those who see me every day

And this precious boy who you've given to me."

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

At Loss for Words

I was just going along
Doing my normal routine one day.
Pain and loneliness began seeking a soul
A frightful visit to pay.

It found me unawares,
Shot right through my body and into my spirit
The news that you would be around no more -
For awhile, I refused to hear it.

Funny that a word-person
Would be at loss for words
To describe something so real;
So tangible that it burns.

Are there words to describe,
Are there words that I know
That can explain this loss that I find
At having to let you go?

Maybe that’s where words are born,
When the body can hold it no more –
The pain inside seemed to explode,
The only escape for emotions to pour.

Or maybe that’s where heartache is born,
When the explosion happens within.
All too much, too soon to process
And the trembling begins again.

Oh, to have had one day with you,
Just you and I alone,
To tell you how much you were loved
And how you’ll be missed when you are gone.

Strange how we’re allowed to love so deep
Then have to let go after a time.
I love you dear, and miss you so much.
I'd rather say any word but "good-bye."

Friday, January 26, 2007

What You Learn

After a while you learn the difference,

Subtle difference,

Between holding a hand and

Chaining a soul.

You learn that love

Doesn't mean leaning and

Company doesn't mean security.

You begin to learn

That kisses aren't contracts and

Presents aren't promises.

You begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes open,

With the grace of an adult,

Not the grief of a child.

You learn to build

All your roads on today

Because tomorrow's ground

Is too uncertain for plans.

After a while you learn

That even sunshine burns

If you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and

Decorate your own soul

Instead of waiting

For someone to bring you flowers.

You learn

That you really can endure.

That you really are strong.

You really do have worth.

Author Unknown

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Music to Me

The piano or organ,
A bug or the sea;
I may be strange,
But all is music to me.

Music comes from
A tuba? A violin?
Or maybe from the fire
As well as any violin.

Some is fun,
Some is more slow.
Your preference is which?
For me, I don’t know.

When I am sad
I like sad songs.
When I’m in the mood
I like bells and gongs.

I also like the rain;
The bass drum – the thunder.
And the string section?
It’s the umbrella I’m under.

Love is the prettiest one.
It’s going on everywhere.
However sweet or sour
By how much you care.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

A Heart Mending Wish

I have a pair of jeans so old.
They've been through many things;
Painting the house, trip by the creek,
Grass-stained picknicking games.

The time when I fell off my bike,
Tore a hole and gashed my leg.
The time when I fought with my husband
and knocked over some dye in a rage.

Used up and torn, ripped, stained;
They need a bit of repair.
I think I shall take the effort now
To sew them here... and there... and there.

Oh to be able to mend the holes like those
That are in my heart so deep.
They don't show like the jeans do
So no one sees the damage I keep.

But the frays tend to make my heart
Lose the function it used to have.
Oh, I wish I could sew it up
Because I have so much love to give.

Like these blue jeans I am feeding
Through my sewing machine
I could patch a spot or two
Reinforce here, and there scrub it clean.

Why does it have to stay broken?
Damaged, injured and scared?
I am a woman in want of love
And refuse to make my heart hard.

By hardening my heart
I know what I'd hide myself from -
The continued barage of damage,
Though true recovery would not come.

I look for hints in your eyes...
Despite my brokenness and pain,
Do you see that I want your love?
Do I dare to approach you again?

You come to me at my machine,
You look into my sad eyes green,
Shyly say, "Dear, could you sew up my heart
Like you're sewing those old blue jeans?"

Saturday, December 09, 2006

The Forgotten Traveler

Headed sure, I was,
Your way one day,
Then sun went down
The cold wind, trees swayed.

I hurried by an empty lot
Familiar in the day’s heat.
Yet this night in deep they held
Such evil I could not repeat.

The darkness there
Loomed such secrets of fright -
I felt I’d come
Between enemies in fight.

Hoping to go unnoticed
I stepped quietly by there,
Then suddenly I heard a noise...
Of me they were now aware.

Instead of letting me pass,
Evil & Evil joined together
To aim their bitter hatred at me,
Though I was not the offender.

Turned quickly then
When I could take no more
And soon lost my way,
No longer headed to your door.

Chasing me deep into the wood,
I ran, not even dressed for going out.
I fell through an icy creek
And had no strength to shout.

The two of evil laughed together,
Spewing clouds of sulfur, they did.
Patched up their wicked fight;
Then they went off as friends…

Looking up from your book
You peered into the night,
Thought of me then forgot again,
Sat and continued to read by firelight.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

George Gray - From the Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters

George Gray

I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me--
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.

In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.

For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.

And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.

To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire--

It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.

A Late Walk, by Robert Frost

A Late Walk

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

Robert Frost

A Collection Of Writings