Together

.

w

e

.

waltz

into

.

t

h

e

.

serene

tease

.

o

f

.

a

.

smooth

.

a

n

d

.

soothing

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

for

.

a

.

moment

believe

.

w

e

.

might

never

.

n

e

e

d

.

to

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

might

.

never

.

n

e

e

d

.

to

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Anticipation

burns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Passion

breeds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Memory

blurs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

conscience

bleeds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

within

.

t

h

e

.

private

rooms

.

o

f

.

margarita

moods

.

a

n

d

.

reminiscent

views . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Cartoon

colors

bloom . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pleasing

images

brew . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

brew

.

a

n

d

.

confuse . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

brew

.

a

n

d

.

confuse . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

brew

.

a

n

d

.

confuse . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wanted

illusions

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

truth.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in May of 2001 in reflection of some of the exploratory, romantic adventures I had in my earlier years. They were brief but passionate, exciting experiences that I would never trade.

So

sad

.

t

o

.

see

.

y

o

u

r

.

playful

youth,

–

–

subdued

.

a

n

d

.

consumed

.

b

y

.

the

tattoos

.

o

f

.

abuse . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

try

.

t

o

.

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

try

.

t

o

.

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

behind

.

wallpaper

designs

.

o

f

.

posed

pride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

What

color

.

w

i

l

l

.

suit

.

y

o

u

r

.

mood

tonight,

.

.

a

s

.

.

you

begin

.

t

o

.

lead

.

y

o

u

r

.

new

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

five

.

f

i

n

e

.

flavors,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

two

.

dimensions

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ five

.

f

i

n

e

.

flavors,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

two

.

dimensions

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

iced

.

w

i

t

h

.

fake

promises

.

a

n

d

.

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

day,

–

–

after

night,

–

–

after

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

night,

–

–

after

day,

–

–

after

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

h

o

p

e

.

before

.

t

o

o

.

long,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

come

.

t

o

.

realize,

.

.

h

o

w

.

.

much

better

.

i

t

.

felt

.

t

o

.

live

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

within

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

o

f

.

those,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

could

.

o

n

c

e

.

rely . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ within

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

o

f

.

those,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

could

.

o

n

c

e

.

rely . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

used

.

t

o

.

move . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ You

used

.

t

o

.

move . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

between

.

t

h

e

.

moods

.

o

f

.

smooth

.

a

n

d

.

soothing

afternoons . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

used

.

t

o

.

bloom

into

.

t

h

e

.

laughter

.

a

n

d

.

charm,

.

.

o

f

.

.

brewed

cartoons . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

.

y

o

u

.

cannot

.

f

i

n

d

.

refuge

.

f

r

o

m

.

even

.

t

h

e

.

addictions

.

y

o

u

.

selectively

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ from

even

.

t

h

e

.

addictions

.

y

o

u

.

selectively

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

welcome

to

.

t

h

e

.

barbecue,

–

–

where

we

.

c

a

n

.

view

retreating

.

y

o

u

t

h

.

accumulate

.

t

h

e

.

dues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

accumulate

.

t

h

e

.

dues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

accumulate

.

t

h

e

.

dues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

accumulate

.

t

h

e

.

dues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

retreating

youth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

you

.

helplessly

move

.

f

r

o

m

.

low

.

t

o

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

from

side

.

t

o

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

ever

mesmerized

.

b

y

.

the

whirling,

–

–

winding,

–

–

hypnotic

.

ride:

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

can’t

.

g

e

t

.

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

can’t

.

g

e

t

.

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

can’t

.

g

e

t

.

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

can’t

.

g

e

t

.

off.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in May of 2001 where the affected party flirts with temptation and repeatedly gets drawn into the depths of the darkness and chaos it brings – being addicted to the “ride.” It becomes a lifelong, all-consuming struggle – and it seems the affected party will never be able to escape the forces of temptation, addiction, and compulsion. The struggle can represent any form of temptation, addiction, or compulsion: drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, obsessions, etc.

I

get

.

t

h

e

.

feeling

.

y

o

u

.

have

.

n

o

t

.

smiled

.

i

n

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

get

.

t

h

e

.

feeling

.

there’s

.

m

u

c

h

.

more

inside,

.

.

t

h

a

t

.

.

you

deny

.

t

h

e

.

world

outside . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

although,

.

I

.

know

.

y

o

u

.

might

.

a

t

.

times,

–

–

feel

confused

.

a

n

d

.

lost

between

.

t

h

e

.

midnight

aisles

.

a

n

d

.

dawn’s

.

unforgiving

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

.

h

o

w

.

it

feels

.

t

o

.

hide

.

b

e

h

i

n

d

.

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

hide

.

b

e

h

i

n

d

.

the

.

hollow

disguise,

.

.

o

f

.

.

laughing

eyes

.

t

h

a

t

.

would

.

m

u

c

h

.

rather

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

.

h

o

w

.

it

feels . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

.

h

o

w

.

it

feels

.

t

o

.

live

.

w

i

t

h

o

u

t

.

being

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ how

.

i

t

.

feels

.

t

o

.

ride

.

t

h

e

.

highest

highs,

.

.

i

n

t

o

.

.

the

.

deepest

dives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

.

h

o

w

.

it

feels . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

So,

.

let’s

.

m

a

k

e

.

today

.

t

h

e

.

day

.

w

e

.

laugh

.

a

n

d

.

dance

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

.

carefree

joys,

.

.

w

e

.

.

knew

.

a

s

.

girls

.

a

n

d

.

boys . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ back

when

.

w

e

.

never

.

h

a

d

.

to

worry

.

a

b

o

u

t

.

being

.

g

o

o

d

.

enough

.

t

o

.

make

.

t

h

e

.

grade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

about

temptations

.

t

h

a

t

.

might

lead

.

u

s

.

astray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ back

when

.

w

e

.

never

.

h

a

d

.

to

worry

.

a

b

o

u

t

.

misconceptions

.

a

n

d

.

false

impressions . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

stereotypes

.

a

n

d

.

hierarchy

climbs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

social

acceptance

.

a

n

d

.

repentance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ back

when

.

w

e

.

never

.

h

a

d

.

to

worry

.

a

b

o

u

t

.

being

.

g

o

o

d

.

enough . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ good

enough

.

f

o

r

.

love . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

get

.

t

h

e

.

feeling

.

y

o

u

.

have

.

n

o

t

.

smiled

.

i

n

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

.

I

pray

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

somehow

fade

.

t

h

e

.

weight

.

o

f

.

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

weight

.

o

f

.

shame

.

t

h

a

t

.

dims

.

t

h

e

.

starshine,

–

–

where

.

y

o

u

r

.

playful

spirit

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

resides.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in May of 2001 where the contemplator is deeply affected by a solemn soul who repeatedly struggles with love, sadness, loneliness, and acceptance, and tends to get drawn into the depths of darkness and despair where he/she withdraws to struggle alone.

My

eyes

implore

.

t

h

e

.

eyes

imploring

mine . . .

.

.

.

smile,

.

solicits

smile,

.

solicits

smile,

.

solicits

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Two

.

m

e

n

.

burn

.

f

o

r

.

ecstasy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Two

.

m

e

n

.

entertain

fantasy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Two

.

m

e

n

.

presented

.

a

s

.

straight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Two

.

m

e

n

.

experimentally

gay . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

really

.

j

u

s

t

.

stage

play . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it’s

really

.

j

u

s

t

.

a

.

chess

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Night,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

night,

.

.

I

.

.

force

.

t

h

e

.

kings

.

o

f

.

manly

ways,

.

.

t

o

.

.

positions

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

stalemate

reigns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

positions

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

stalemate

reigns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

they

wait . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Wouldn’t

.

y

o

u

.

agonize,

.

.

t

o

.

.

be

.

t

h

e

.

man

.

i

n

.

my

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Wouldn’t

.

y

o

u

.

compromise,

.

.

t

o

.

.

be

.

t

h

e

.

man

.

i

n

.

my

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

My

eyes

implore

.

t

h

e

.

eyes

imploring

mine . . .

.

.

.

smile,

.

solicits

smile,

.

solicits

smile,

.

solicits

smile.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in October of 2000 in reflection of tentative, exploratory, forbidden, romantic encounters – with two very attractive men (not at the same time) who were supposedly straight. They were brief but very passionate, exciting experiences for me.

Reflection:

I wrote this poem back in October of 2000 for a friend who shared with me some of the things that happened to him when growing up at home and I could really relate to that – having similar kinds of experiences. So, I wrote this poem as a gift to him and to show that I could really relate to him.

Well, after I gave it to him, he criticized it and said it was not even close to capturing what he had gone through in his life. Then I didn’t hear from him for a while. 

He later reconnected with me and thanked me for writing the poem saying that it had deeply affected him but initially made him feel uncomfortable because he felt exposed and that I had seen right through him. He hadn’t met anyone who could do that right after learning about someone’s childhood history. 

I also intentionally misspelled a word because I’m big on rhythm when writing poetry so I shortened the correct, tedious word “lingeringly” to “lingerly” and it seemed to work.

Here’s the poem which comes from my book Burning . . . Burning Blue: https://brighterdayslifecoaching.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/The-Boy-You-Never-Knew.pdf

Reflection: This poem captured a special memory of a wonderful, warming experience that can only live in memory. In the late 1990s and early 2000s I had a lot of fun times, wonderful experiences, and memorable adventures, and this one ranks high on that list.

Here’s the poem which comes from my book Burning . . . Burning Blue: https://brighterdayslifecoaching.com/wp-admin/upload.php?item=18849

Reflection: I wrote this poem back in September of 2000 as a reminder to myself. I had a habit at the time of working a lot of overtime, carrying too many worries, and pursuing too many things at once outside of work. I didn’t realize at the time how all of the things I would worry about would never actually happen and how too many pursuits would create such a stressful life. I’m glad those days are over.

Here’s the poem which comes from my book “Burning . . . Burning Blue:” https://brighterdayslifecoaching.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/To-Be-Alive.pdf

Reflection:  I wrote this poem back in July of 2000 in the attempt to help inspire people to live happier and create warmer surroundings for the benefit of all, everyone, and everything they come into contact with. So, I suppose I was a bit of a life coach and philosopher – even years prior to my life-coaching days. 

Here’s the poem which comes from my book “Burning . . . Burning Blue:” https://brighterdayslifecoaching.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/Wandering-Echoes-Lost.pdf

Reflection: This was a popular personal struggle-themed poem I wrote back in July of 2000 as a reminder to myself. I had a habit at the time of working a lot of overtime, carrying too many worries, and pursuing too many things at once outside of work. I didn’t realize at the time how all of the things I would worry about would never actually happen and how too many pursuits would create such a stressful life. I’m glad those days are over.

Here’s the poem which comes from my book “Burning . . . Burning Blue:” https://brighterdayslifecoaching.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/The-Lone-Shadowed-Aisles.pdf

Reflection: I wrote this poem back in June of 2000. It was yet another reflection bearing witness to the technology and engineering workforce machine and a much needed, constant reminder to not get consumed by it the way so many others had. It was a real problem back then (and it continues to be).

Here’s the poem which comes from my book “Burning . . . Burning Blue:” https://brighterdayslifecoaching.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/Clutter.pdf