I

remember

.

t

h

e

.

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

I

chased

–

–

wave,

–

–

after

wave,

–

–

after

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

chased

–

–

wave,

–

–

after

wave,

–

–

after

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

the

swirling

–

–

L.A.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

chased

–

–

wave,

–

–

after

wave,

–

–

after

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

the

swirling

–

–

L.A.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

came

back

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

came

–

–

back

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

came

–

–

back

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

came

–

–

back

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

play,

–

–

after

play,

–

–

after

play . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

page,

–

–

after

page,

–

–

after

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

escape,

–

–

after

escape,

–

–

after

escape . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

face . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

a

.

gaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

a

.

name . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

face . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

a

.

gaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

a

.

name . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

came

–

–

back

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

came

–

–

back

again . .

–

–

–

.

.

I

came

–

–

back

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

chased

–

–

wave,

–

–

after

wave,

–

–

after

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

chased

–

–

wave,

–

–

after

wave,

–

–

after

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

chased

–

–

wave,

–

–

after

wave,

–

–

after

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

the

swirling

–

–

L.A.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

chased

–

–

wave,

–

–

after

wave,

–

–

after

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

the

swirling

–

–

L.A.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

came

back

again.

Reflection:

I wrote this poem about a recent visit to Los Angeles where the “vibe” I observed wasn’t anything close to what it was like on previous occasions – years ago. Several of my favorite places were no longer there – many of which were vacant. On the one hand, I was very thankful I got to experience as much of it as I did over the years and had a wonderful time doing it. On the other hand, I was disappointed that all of that vibrant energy seemed to fade and felt a bit sad for the people of today that would never experience it or know what all of that was like.

So, the primary message of this poem is to participate in (and make the most out of) experiences as they unfold in life before they pass. I’ve had several experiences like that in my life and am happy I took the time to experience them while they were new, vibrant, and exhilarating. And I encourage you to do the same because I would never trade those memories.

They

only

–

–

beat

.

a

n

d

.

strike . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

beat

.

a

n

d

.

strike . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

till

tears

–

–

fill

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

beat

.

a

n

d

.

strike . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

beat

.

a

n

d

.

strike . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

stone

pride

–

–

does

.

n

o

t

.

cry.

Reflection:  I heard the lyric “They only hit until you cry” in Suzanne Vega’s song “Luka” and this was such a powerful lyric that it inspired me to write this short, simple poem.

I

woke

.

u

p

.

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

woke

.

u

p

.

far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

miles

–

–

ahead

stretched

.

l

o

n

g

e

r

.

along

.

t

h

e

.

road

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

breath

.

o

f

.

time

began

.

t

o

.

s ~ l ~ o ~ w . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

there

were

.

l

o

n

g

e

r

.

miles

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

all

along

–

–

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

.

t

h

e

.

breath

.

o

f

.

time

began

.

t

o

.

s ~ l ~ o ~ w . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

.

t

h

e

.

breath

.

o

f

.

time

began

.

t

o

.

s ~ l ~ o ~ w . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

blow

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

blow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

shadows

swallow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

shadows

swallow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

you’re

.

d

o

w

n

.

so

deep . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

you’re

.

d

o

w

n

.

so

low . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

shadows

swallow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

shadows

swallow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

blow,

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

blow,

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

blow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

have

.

t

o

.

fight

.

f

o

r

.

every

mile

.

o

f

.

that

relentless

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Blow,

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

blow,

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

blow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

have

.

t

o

.

hope

–

–

even

when

–

–

time

begins

.

t

o

.

s ~ l ~ o ~ w . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

have

.

t

o

.

fight

.

f

o

r

.

every

mile

.

o

f

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

hope

when

–

–

time

begins

.

t

o

.

s ~ l ~ o ~ w . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

find

.

y

o

u

r

.

way

.

b

a

c

k

.

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

find

.

y

o

u

r

.

way

.

b

a

c

k

.

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

blow,

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

blow,

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

blow.

Reflection:  Sometimes, when I travel, I reconnect with various music artists of the past. For some reason, Bruce Springsteen kept coming up on the Portugal trip I took in early-to-mid 2024. Much of his music has an honest reflective but melancholy vibe to it. That’s part of what I have loved about his music. I below poem came to me while listening to some of his music. I wrote it sort of as a tribute to Bruce.

While on my trip to Portugal, I was listening to various musicians I hadn’t heard in a while. One of those was Bruce Springsteen – I had forgotten how moving his music and lyrics were. So, I thought I’d try to write a second poem as a tribute to him while playing some of his songs in the background at low volume. The primary ones that I played to inspire the writing of this poem were: “Downbound Train” and “One Step Up.” I played these songs in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to these songs at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I

still

recall

the

.

f

a

l

l

.

of

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it

was

the

.

f

a

l

l

.

of

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

your

eyes

–

–

burned

so

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

your

eyes

–

–

burned

so

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

with

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

another

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Your

eyes

–

–

burned

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Your

eyes

–

–

burned

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Your

eyes

–

–

burned

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

with

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

another

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

still

recall

the

.

f

a

l

l

.

of

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

still

recall

the

.

f

a

l

l

.

of

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

still

recall

the

.

f

a

l

l

.

of

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

that

.

w

a

s

.

the

last

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

that

.

w

a

s

.

the

last

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

saw

–

–

your

eyes

–

–

burn

.

s

o

.

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

with

a

smile.

Reflection:  This poem was written about a fading romance and the sinking feelings that can come with it. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “Your Worst Song is Your Greatest Hit” by The Reds, the Pinks and Purples which I played in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

 

I

remember

feeling . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

remember

feeling

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

felt

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

I

fell

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

f

e

l

l

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

screamed

behind

.

t

h

e

.

door . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

screamed

behind

.

t

h

e

.

door . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

could

.

n

o

t

.

rise

above

.

t

h

e

.

roar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

could

.

n

o

t

.

rise

above

.

t

h

e

.

roar . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

I

continued

.

t

o

.

fight

.

t

h

e

.

war . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

continued

.

t

o

.

fight

.

t

h

e

.

war . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

I

stand

upon

–

–

a

distant

shore . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

stand

upon

–

–

a

distant

shore . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

blisters,

–

–

burns,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

blurs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ far

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

whispered

words

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

hurts . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

arguing

.

f

o

r

.

less

than

.

m

y

.

worth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

for

more

–

–

than

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

argued

.

f

o

r

.

less

than

.

m

y

.

worth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

for

more

–

–

than

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

was

–

–

more

than

–

–

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

was

–

–

more

than

–

–

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

was

–

–

more

than

–

–

I

deserved . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

I

was

.

a

t

.

my

worst . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

remember

feeling . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

remember

feeling

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

felt

.

t

h

i

s

.

way

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

I

fell

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

 I

.

f

e

l

l

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

screamed

behind

.

t

h

e

.

door.

Reflection:  This poem largely reflects an ongoing, internal struggle – from some kind of trauma that was experienced previously. It continues to resurface and the anxious sufferer senses another episode is on the way. Many people who have either experienced trauma or who have helped others in these regards will probably relate strongly to this poem.

I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “No End to Love” by Orlando Weeks which I played in the background to create the “moodset” for the poem, and inspire the writing of the poem. So, if you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Can

.

y

o

u

.

feel

it?

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

the

–

–

first

touch

.

o

f

.

sunshine,

–

–

felt

.

i

n

.

a

very

–

–

long

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

first

touch

.

o

f

.

sunshine,

–

–

felt

.

i

n

.

a

long

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Can

.

y

o

u

.

hear

it?

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

the

soothing

song

–

–

that

makes

.

y

o

u

.

smile,

.

a

n

d

.

sing

along . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

soothing

song

–

–

that

makes

.

y

o

u

.

smile,

.

a

n

d

.

sing

along . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Can

.

y

o

u

.

see

it?

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

the

warm

tears

.

o

f

.

hope,

–

–

when

you’ve

–

–

traveled

alone

.

a

n

d

.

wandered

far

–

–

from

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you’ve

–

–

traveled

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you’ve

–

–

traveled

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you’ve

–

–

traveled

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

wandered

far

–

–

from

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

begin

.

t

o

.

recognize

–

–

a

friendly,

–

–

familiar

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

recognize

–

–

a

friendly,

–

–

familiar

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Can

.

y

o

u

.

breathe

it?

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

i

s

.

the

warming,

–

–

welcome

scent

.

o

f

.

the

place

.

y

o

u

.

used

.

t

o

.

go

.

t

o

.

slow,

.

a

n

d

.

let

your

–

–

spirit

show . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

place

.

y

o

u

.

used

.

t

o

.

go

.

t

o

.

let

your

–

–

spirit

show . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Each,

.

a

n

d

.

all,

.

a

n

d

.

every

–

–

type

.

o

f

.

warmth

.

a

n

d

.

kindness

–

–

left

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

remains

.

w

i

t

h

.

you

.

a

l

l

.

the

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ every

warmth

.

a

n

d

.

kindness

–

–

left

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

remains

.

w

i

t

h

.

you

.

a

l

l

.

the

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

feel

it . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

hear

it . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

see

it . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

breathe

it . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

every

warmth

.

a

n

d

.

kindness

–

–

left

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

every

warmth

.

a

n

d

.

kindness

–

–

left

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

every

warmth

.

a

n

d

.

kindness

–

–

left

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

remains

.

w

i

t

h

.

you

.

a

l

l

.

the

time.

Reflection: I played the wonderful gem of a song “Cold Comfort” by STRFKR in the background to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

When

you

–

–

have

fallen

.

t

o

.

the

floor,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

then

you

.

f

a

l

l

.

some

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you

–

–

have

lost

.

i

t

.

all,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

are

crushed

–

–

against

.

t

h

e

.

wall . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

everything

–

–

once

firm

–

–

begins

.

t

o

.

blur,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

you

feel

.

n

o

.

longer

sure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you

–

–

want

.

s

o

.

much

.

t

o

.

die,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

just

need

.

a

.

hopeful

sign . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

can

–

–

look

right

.

a

n

d

.

slightly

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

there

you

.

w

i

l

l

.

always

find,

.

t

h

e

.

outline

.

o

f

.

a

face

–

–

you

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

will

–

–

always

find

–

–

a

face

–

–

you

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

ready

.

t

o

.

heave,

.

a

n

d

.

lift,

.

a

n

d

.

pull

.

t

h

e

.

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

shine

.

a

.

smiling,

–

–

warming,

–

–

guiding

light . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

through

all

.

o

f

.

the

dust

.

a

n

d

.

dirt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

through

all

.

o

f

.

the

twists

.

a

n

d

.

turns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

through

all

.

o

f

.

the

harms

.

a

n

d

.

hurts . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

even

those

–

–

that

still

–

–

haunt

.

a

n

d

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ even

those

–

–

that

still

–

–

haunt

.

a

n

d

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

can

climb . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

can

dive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

can

–

–

roll

.

a

n

d

.

whip

–

–

f

r

o

m

–

–

side

.

t

o

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

there

will

–

–

never

.

b

e

.

too

wide

.

a

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

too

deep

.

a

.

decline . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

me

.

t

o

.

let

go

.

o

f

.

that

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

will

–

–

grip

.

i

t

.

tight,

–

–

with

.

a

l

l

.

my

might . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

will

–

–

hold

.

t

h

a

t

.

line,

–

–

until

.

t

h

e

.

end

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

will

–

–

hold

.

t

h

a

t

.

line,

–

–

until

.

t

h

e

.

end

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

when

you

–

–

come

out

.

t

h

e

.

other

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

just

need

.

a

.

hopeful

sign . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

can

–

–

look

right

.

a

n

d

.

slightly

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

there

you

.

w

i

l

l

.

always

find,

.

t

h

e

.

outline

.

o

f

.

a

face

–

–

you

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

will

–

–

always

find

–

–

a

face

–

–

you

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

ready

.

t

o

.

heave,

.

a

n

d

.

lift,

.

a

n

d

.

pull

.

t

h

e

.

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

shine

.

a

.

smiling,

–

–

warming,

–

–

guiding

light . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

might

.

b

e

.

the

quiet

type,

–

–

b

u

t

–

–

I

have

.

a

.

watchful

eye . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

have

.

a

.

watchful

eye . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

listen

.

f

o

r

.

the

faintest

slight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

listen

.

f

o

r

.

the

faintest

slight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

those

who

fly

–

–

too

wide

left

.

o

r

.

too

wide

right,

–

–

might

.

b

e

.

surprised

.

t

o

.

find

–

–

they

are

.

o

n

.

the

wrong

side

.

o

f

.

that

fight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

might

.

b

e

.

surprised

.

t

o

.

find

–

–

they

are

.

o

n

.

the

wrong

side

.

o

f

.

that

fight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

a

smile

–

–

draws

tight

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

the

eyes

ignite . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

smile

–

–

draws

tight

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

the

eyes

ignite . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

against

the

–

–

wrong

side

.

o

f

.

that

fight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you

–

–

have

fallen

.

t

o

.

the

floor,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

then

you

.

f

a

l

l

.

some

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you

–

–

have

lost

.

i

t

.

all,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

are

crushed

–

–

against

.

t

h

e

.

wall . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

everything

–

–

once

firm

–

–

begins

.

t

o

.

blur,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

you

feel

.

n

o

.

longer

sure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

you

–

–

want

.

s

o

.

much

.

t

o

.

die,

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

just

need

.

a

.

hopeful

sign . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

can

–

–

look

right

.

a

n

d

.

slightly

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

there

you

.

w

i

l

l

.

always

find,

.

t

h

e

.

outline

.

o

f

.

a

face

–

–

you

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

will

–

–

always

find

.

a

.

face

–

–

you

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time.

Reflection:

This was an important poem for me to write. I was out one night when the title flashed in my mind and many of the words flowed immediately after, and I realized I had a lot to say about this.

For those who have special people in their lives that remain by their side time after time no matter what happens or how bad things get, please realize that many people in life never get to experience that. So, my hope is this poem will inspire you to warmly appreciate those wonderful people in your life who always go the extra mile, who always cheer you on no matter what happens, and who you can always rely on. Because such people are rare, and this poem was written for them but also for you. May this poem inspire you to recognize and warmly appreciate the wonderful people in your life who remain by your side no matter what happens in life.

I have been that person for certain others in my life, and others have been that person for me. So, I’ve been very fortunate.

I wrote most of this poem by listening to “The Impossible Dream” by Jack Jones which I played in the background to create the “moodset” for the poem. I also used “Adeline” by Alt-J, “Brothers in Arms” by Dire Straits, and “Goodnight Saigon” by Billy Joel to help fine tune the poem. So, if you listen to either (or all) of these songs at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

To

climb

–

f

r

o

m

–

the

deepest,

–

–

darkest

decline . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

To

try

–

–

even

when

–

–

badly

beat

–

a

n

d

–

barely

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

To

fight

–

f

o

r

–

every

inch

–

o

f

–

each

merciless

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

To

raise

–

–

a

head

high

–

i

n

–

the

daylight

–

–

w

i

t

h

–

–

a

strong

sense

–

o

f

–

pride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

This

–

i

s

–

the

life

–

I

–

will

ignite . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

This

–

i

s

–

the

life

–

–

that

will

–

b

e

–

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

life

–

–

built

beyond

–

t

h

e

–

relentless

plight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

life

–

–

created

–

b

y

–

supreme

sacrifice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

life

–

–

fueled

–

b

y

–

determined

drive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

won’t

–

b

e

–

denied . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ No, I

won’t

–

b

e

–

denied . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

To

climb

–

f

r

o

m

–

the

deepest,

–

–

darkest

decline . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

To

try

–

–

even

when

–

–

badly

beat

–

a

n

d

–

barely

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

To

fight

–

f

o

r

–

every

inch

–

o

f

–

each

merciless

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

To

raise

–

–

a

head

high

–

i

n

–

the

daylight

–

–

w

i

t

h

–

–

a

strong

sense

–

o

f

–

pride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

This

–

i

s

–

the

life

–

I

–

will

ignite . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

This

–

i

s

–

the

life

–

–

that

will

–

b

e

–

mine.

Reflection:

There is a classic song that I just love (musically speaking) but I hate much of the lyrics (it’s a bit too blindly patriotic for my tastes). I thought, gosh, so many more people could relate to this song if the lyrics were changed – so, I took it upon myself to do just that. And the overwhelming positive response I received after publishing this poem resulted in it being one of my best loved poems of all time.

I felt that this poem was a very important poem for me to write. It had a lot of significance for my life but was more importantly written for those who struggle again and again in life. Victory is assured for those who stand firm and endure – it is only a question of focus, strength, and determination. May this poem inspire those who struggle to keep fighting.

I used the music from the song “The Impossible Dream” (I like both the Jack Jones and Frank Sinatra versions of this song – musically speaking), at low volume, to create the “moodset” while writing this poem. So, if you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I

achieved

–

–

my

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

achieved

–

–

your

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

it’s

not

nearly

–

a

s

–

sweet

–

a

s

–

initially

seemed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

not

nearly

–

a

s

–

sweet . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

not

nearly

–

a

s

–

sweet . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

not

nearly

–

a

s

–

sweet

–

a

s

–

initially

seemed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

I

am

here . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

are

there . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

accum

ulating

time

–

a

n

d

–

distance

between . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time

–

a

n

d

–

distance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

distance

–

a

n

d

–

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

were

all

–

–

the

rewards

–

w

e

–

would

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

all

–

o

f

–

that

romance,

–

a

n

d

–

rapture,

–

a

n

d

–

rhyme . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time

–

a

n

d

–

distance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

distance

–

a

n

d

–

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dimming

–

t

h

e

–

days

–

–

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dimming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dimming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dimming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

days

–

–

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

all

–

o

f

–

that

romance,

–

a

n

d

–

rapture,

–

a

n

d

–

rhyme . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

–

w

e

–

pursued

–

–

those

dreams

–

i

n

–

our

youth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

not

knowing

–

–

how

much

–

w

e

–

might

lose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ not

knowing

–

–

how

much

–

w

e

–

might

lose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

regret

sings

–

–

relent

lessly,

–

–

the

most

–

–

haunting

tunes

–

o

f

–

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Regret

sings

–

–

relent

lessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Regret

sings

–

–

relent

lessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Regret

sings

–

–

relent

lessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

most

–

–

haunting

tunes

–

o

f

–

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it’s

not

achieve

ment

–

o

f

–

the

goal

–

–

that

fills

–

–

the

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

not

achieve

ment

–

o

f

–

the

goal . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

not

achieve

ment

–

o

f

–

the

goal . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

not

achieve

ment

–

o

f

–

the

goal . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

fills

–

–

the

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

who

–

i

s

–

with

you

–

–

when

–

y

o

u

–

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

who

–

i

s

–

with

you

–

–

where

–

y

o

u

–

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

who

–

i

s

–

with

you

–

–

a

t

–

–

the

end

–

o

f

–

that

road.

Reflection: This poem was largely inspired by the ending of “La La Land” where actress Emma Stone looks at Ryan Gosling playing the piano who both have separate new lives (especially her with a husband and child) and shares a secret smile with him for the times gone by that her husband/child know nothing about. It was a great moment in the movie.

I

thought

.

o

f

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

smiled . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

wondered

how

–

–

your

life

–

–

had

gone

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while

–

–

you

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

w

a

s

.

surprised

.

t

o

.

find

–

–

how

many

–

–

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs

.

h

a

d

.

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ how

many

–

–

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs

.

h

a

d

.

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

since

.

w

e

.

shined

–

–

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

Springtime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

shined

–

–

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

Springtime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

back

when

–

–

the

days

.

o

f

.

me

.

a

n

d

.

you

–

–

were

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

.

w

e

r

e

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

we

knew

–

–

we

could

.

n

o

t

.

lose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

could

.

n

o

t

.

lose

.

i

n

.

those

restless

days

.

o

f

.

youth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

love

.

w

a

s

.

more

a

mood

–

–

than

a

proof . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

we

could

move,

.

a

n

d

.

pursue,

.

a

n

d

.

do

–

–

whatever

we’d

–

–

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

could

do

–

–

whatever

we’d

–

–

choose . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

those

restless

days

.

o

f

.

youth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

everything

.

w

a

s

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

everything

.

w

a

s

.

new,

.

a

n

d

.

still

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

including

me

.

a

n

d

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

much

time

–

–

passed

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

since

.

w

e

.

shined

–

–

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

Springtime

.

a

t

.

the 

starting

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ since

.

w

e

.

shined

–

–

our

smiles

.

o

f

.

Springtime

.

a

t

.

the 

starting

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

igniting

.

a

n

d

.

exciting

–

–

the

eyes

.

o

f

.

delight

–

–

which

–

–

came

alive

.

a

n

d

.

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles

.

a

t

.

a

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

would

marvel

.

f

o

r

.

miles

.

a

t

.

a

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ those

eyes

.

o

f

.

delight,

–

–

alive

.

i

n

.

our

springtime

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

–

–

the

words,

–

–

the

rhythm,

.

a

n

d

.

the

rhyme

–

–

were

like

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

everything

.

w

a

s

.

fine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

everything

.

w

a

s

.

fine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

could

still

.

g

o

.

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everything

 could

still

.

g

o

.

right

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

we

would

ride

–

–

the

skies

.

o

f

.

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

would

ride

–

–

the

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

would

ride

–

–

the

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

would

ride

–

–

the

skies

.

o

f

.

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

nice,

.

a

n

d

.

bright,

.

a

n

d

.

high,

.

a

n

d

.

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

mile,

–

–

after

mile,

–

–

after

mile,

–

–

after

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

smile,

–

–

after

smile,

–

–

after

smile,

–

–

after

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

we

had

–

–

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

wine,

.

a

n

d

.

candlelight

.

o

n

.

our

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

had

–

–

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

wine,

.

a

n

d

.

candlelight

.

o

n

.

our

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

when

we

shined

–

–

our

Springtime

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

we

shined

–

–

our

Springtime

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

thought

.

o

f

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

smiled . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

wondered

how

–

–

your

life

–

–

had

gone

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

the

while

–

–

you

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine.

Reflection:  This poem largely reflects looking back on a cherished, one-of-a-kind, past romance – and is something most of us have probably experienced in our lives. Romance seemed so much easier in the days of youth when expectations were much lower, and we were less judgmental and more forgiving towards each other.

The opening lines to this poem came to me while I was at New Smyrna Beach. The remainder of the poem came into being a couple of weeks later by the accidental intersection of one of my favorite movies (“Film Stars Don’t Die in Liverpool.”) and an old song on the radio that I had never heard before on the drive back from Daytona Beach (“Come Saturday Morning” by The Sandpipers which was a tiny but catchy echo from back in 1970 – its peak position on the charts was at #17). And although this song was not in the movie, and not much of a hit, it really hit me and fit perfectly with what I was reflecting on and trying to capture.

The song served as the primary inspiration for the poem which took several iterations to write (while playing the song repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem). If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.