Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

s

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

.

y

o

u

.

will

never

–

–

again

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

never

again

feel

.

t

h

a

t

.

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

glow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

glow

–

–

called

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

s

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

.

y

o

u

.

can

.

n

o

.

longer

fill

.

t

h

e

.

hole

.

i

n

.

your

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

s

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

t

o

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

although

.

y

o

u

.

try

.

t

o

.

hide

behind

.

a

.

soothing

smile

.

o

f

.

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

see

.

i

t

.

in

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

.

c

a

n

.

see

.

i

t

.

in

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

the

starshine

.

h

a

s

.

died . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ Yes,

.

t

h

e

.

starshine

.

h

a

s

.

died

–

–

from

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ from

behind

.

t

h

e

.

days

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

were

wild,

.

a

n

d

.

prized,

.

a

n

d

.

alive

.

w

i

t

h

.

fire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pumping

.

w

i

t

h

.

pride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ from

behind

.

t

h

e

.

days,

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

were

delighted

.

b

y

.

desire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

otherwise,

.

f

o

r

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

such

.

a

.

happy,

.

a

n

d

.

kind,

–

–

carefree

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ then,

.

f

o

r

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

.

w

e

r

e

.

such

.

a

.

happy,

.

a

n

d

.

kind,

–

–

carefree

guy

–

–

who

smiled . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

laughing

.

a

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

laughing

.

a

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

laughing

.

a

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

mile,

–

after

mile,

–

after

mile,

–

after

mile,

–

after

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

line,

–

after

line,

–

after

line,

–

after

line,

–

after

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

rolling,

.

a

n

d

.

riding

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ rolling,

.

a

n

d

.

riding

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

flying

high

.

a

n

d

.

flying

blind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wild

.

a

n

d

.

alive

.

w

i

t

h

.

fire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

speeding

.

w

i

t

h

.

desire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

future

–

–

raced

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

future

–

–

raced

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

future

–

–

raced

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

.

w

a

s

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you

.

a

l

l

.

that

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

who

.

w

a

s

.

then

.

f

o

r

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

such

.

a

.

happy,

–

a

n

d

–

kind,

–

–

carefree

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

living

a

life

–

–

still

filled

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

future

–

–

which

could

.

h

a

v

e

.

been

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ which

could

.

h

a

v

e

.

been

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

.

y

o

u

.

ask . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ yes,

now

.

y

o

u

.

ask . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

over

eyes

.

o

f

.

wine,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

line,

–

–

after

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

f

–

–

–

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

e

.

same

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ if

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

e

.

same

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

ten

years

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ if

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy

.

w

i

t

h

.

starshine

.

i

n

.

his

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ if

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy

.

w

i

t

h

.

starshine

.

i

n

.

his

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

I

gazed

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

sky . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

.

y

o

u

.

were

still

.

t

h

e

.

raging

fire

.

o

f

.

delight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

.

y

o

u

.

were

still . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

.

y

o

u

.

were

still . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

guy

.

s

o

.

fine,

.

h

e

.

burned

.

u

p

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

e

r

e

.

still

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

e

r

e

.

still

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

e

r

e

.

still

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

smiled

.

i

n

.

my

reply . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

I

lied.

Reflection:  

Written in reflection of someone who used to be a star entertainer at nightclubs back when he was in his early 20s and continued down that path many years later. I pondered what that path might have done to him over the years. Hence, I began the poem with: “Did you go so far down that road,” and then just let it take its own path. The remainder of the poem is not necessarily a reflection of him but perhaps someone who went down the wrong path for many, many years . . .

I used to song “Wild Time (Rough Trade Session)” by Weyes Blood to play repeatedly in the background at 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.

Was

.

i

t

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road

–

–

with

nowhere

–

–

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

was

.

i

t

.

the

brand

–

–

new

start

.

o

f

.

a

future

–

–

that

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ of

some

future

–

–

that

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

raw

undergrowth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

fast

.

a

n

d

.

slow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

highs

.

a

n

d

.

lows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

valleys

below

–

–

where

.

t

h

e

.

echoes

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ beyond

.

t

h

e

.

valleys

–

–

where

.

t

h

e

.

echoes

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Well,

.

i

t

.

only

depends

.

o

n

.

the

vision

.

y

o

u

.

hold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

only

depends

.

o

n

.

the

seeds

.

y

o

u

.

sew . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

what

.

y

o

u

.

believe

–

–

when

meeting

.

t

h

e

.

unknown . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ what

.

y

o

u

.

believe

–

–

when

meeting

.

t

h

e

.

unknown . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

even

though

–

–

there

.

a

r

e

.

those

–

–

who

will

–

–

say

this

.

i

s

.

this,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

.

i

s

.

so . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ this

.

i

s

.

this,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

.

i

s

.

so . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

there’s

.

n

o

.

more

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

there’s

–

–

nowhere

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there’s

nowhere

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

only

because . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ only

because . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Was

.

i

t

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road

.

w

i

t

h

.

nowhere

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

was

.

i

t

.

the

brand

–

–

new

start

.

o

f

.

a

future

–

–

that

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Well,

.

i

t

.

only

depends

.

o

n

.

the

vision

.

y

o

u

.

hold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

o

n

l

y

.

depends

.

o

n

.

the

seeds

.

y

o

u

.

sew,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

what

.

y

o

u

.

believe

–

–

when

meeting

.

t

h

e

.

unknown.

Reflection: This was an inspiration/hope-themed poem I wrote back in February of 2021 about how important perceptions and beliefs are with respect to the life one ends up creating and experiencing. I played the song “Wild Time (Rough Trade Session)” by Weyes Blood 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.

Snow

.

f

a

l

l

s

.

slow

.

upon

.

t

h

e

.

snow,

–

–

upon

.

t

h

e

.

cold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

.

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone,

.

.

o

n

.

.

the

road

.

t

o

.

all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

used

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

used

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wrapped

.

i

n

.

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

homes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ wrapped

.

i

n

.

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

homes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

which

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

only

.

h

o

s

t

.

haunting

echoes

.

a

n

d

.

vacant

souls . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

.

n

o

w

.

only

.

h

o

s

t

.

haunting

echoes

.

a

n

d

.

vacant

souls . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

used

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Snow

.

f

a

l

l

s

.

slow

.

upon

.

t

h

e

.

snow,

–

–

upon

.

t

h

e

.

cold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

.

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone,

.

.

o

n

.

.

the

road

.

t

o

.

all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

use

.

t

o

.

go.

Reflection: This was a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote back in February of 2021 where the contemplator looks back on certain special people he or she shared warmly, wonderful moments with but is no longer in his/her life for whatever reason – leaving behind a deep, somber void which nobody else can fill. I used the haunting song “Good Love” by Zola Blood playing in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for this poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

You

.

c

a

n

.

spin

.

t

h

e

.

gloating

.

a

n

d

.

the

greed

–

–

into

dancing

dreams

.

a

n

d

.

fantasies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

c

a

n

.

plaster

.

y

o

u

r

.

walls

.

w

i

t

h

.

plasticine

prestige

.

a

n

d

.

seeming

celebrity . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

c

a

n

.

paint

.

a

n

d

.

set

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

these

stately,

–

–

sparkling

scenes

.

f

r

o

m

.

sea

.

t

o

.

sating

sea . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ presenting

each,

.

a

n

d

.

all,

.

a

n

d

.

every

.

o

f

.

these . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

t

o

–

–

–

the

grandest

.

o

f

.

deeds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ into

.

t

h

e

.

greatest

.

o

f

.

opportunities . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

c

a

n

.

do

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

this

–

–

with

such

–

–

selfish

ease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

c

a

n

.

do

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

this

–

–

without

losing

–

–

your

peace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

c

a

n

.

do

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

this

–

–

without

caring

–

–

what

.

t

h

e

.

future

brings . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

c

a

n

.

do

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

this . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

c

a

n

.

do

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

this . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

much

better

.

t

h

a

n

.

me.

Reflection: This was a reflective-themed poem I wrote about those who can seemingly go through life doing whatever they please without worrying about who they hurt or what the impact might be. I wrote this poem using a much-loved song (“Statuette” by Emily Haines). I played this song in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” while writing this poem and the repeating lyrics “better than me” really hit me in a haunting sort of way and caused me to think – even though the context within the song was a bit different from the way I used it in the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I

could

have

–

–

lived

a

life

–

–

–

much

brighter

–

–

than

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

could

have

–

–

lived

a

life

–

–

–

much

better

–

–

than

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

so

often

I

ride

–

o

n

–

the

low

side

–

o

f

–

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

ride

–

o

n

–

the

low

side

–

o

f

–

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

pages

–

–

fly

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

pages

–

–

fly

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

I

realize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes

then

I

realize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

all

–

t

h

e

–

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

that

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

could

have

–

–

lived

a

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

could

have

–

–

lived

a

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

much

brighter

–

t

h

a

n

–

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

life

–

–

much

better

–

t

h

a

n

–

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

so

often

I

ride

–

o

n

–

the

low

side

–

o

f

–

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

ride

–

o

n

–

the

low

side

–

o

f

–

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

pages

–

–

fly

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

pages

–

–

fly

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

pages

–

–

fly

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

I

realize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

all

–

t

h

e

–

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

that

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

–

a

l

l

–

I

would

write

–

–

–

would

only

–

–

ever

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

this

–

w

a

s

–

my

life.

Reflection:  This was a reflective-themed poem I wrote. I saw an Album by Marilyn Manson titled “The High End of Low” and played with the words which drove me to write “the low side of high” and those words drove the remainder of the poem. 

You

.

a

r

e

.

that

guy,

–

–

with

.

t

h

e

.

beautiful

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

.

a

r

e

.

that

guy,

–

–

I’ve

wanted

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

fine,

–

–

white,

–

–

bright,

.

.

s

h

y.

.

.

smile,

–

–

kind

.

o

f

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

filled

.

w

i

t

h

.

sunshine

.

a

n

d

.

summertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ filled

.

w

i

t

h

.

sunshine

.

a

n

d

.

summertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

reflected

within

.

t

h

e

.

aisles,

–

–

upon

aisles,

–

–

upon

aisles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

hopeful,

–

–

wanting

eyes,

.

.

n

o

w

.

.

dimming

within

.

d

a

y

s

.

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

sunshine

.

a

n

d

.

summertime

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

wines

.

a

n

d

.

dines

.

b

y

.

candlelight,

.

.

m

y

.

.

each

.

a

n

d

.

every

dream

.

o

f

.

delight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ my

each

.

a

n

d

.

every

dream

.

o

f

.

delight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

night,

–

–

after

night,

–

–

after

night,

–

–

after

night,

–

–

after

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

aisles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ in

.

t

h

e

.

aisles

.

o

f

.

hopeful,

–

–

wanting

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

you

.

a

r

e

.

that

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

a

r

e

.

that

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

a

r

e

.

that

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

with

.

t

h

e

.

.

beautiful

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

.

a

r

e

.

that

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’ve

wanted

.

a

l

l

.

the

while.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in January of 2021 about a strong infatuation I had with someone I barely knew and only came into contact with occasionally. I used the haunting song “Another Thing” (and several other songs on the same album) by Homeshake playing in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for this poem. If you listen to the song(s) at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn,

–

–

long

beyond

–

–

where

.

t

h

a

t

.

road

.

h

a

d

.

gone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ long

beyond

–

–

where

.

o

l

d

.

dreams

.

h

a

d

.

run,

.

.

s

o

.

.

young

.

a

n

d

.

fun

.

i

n

.

everyone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

that

.

w

a

s

.

beats

before

.

y

o

u

.

came

along . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

.

w

a

s

.

bars

before

–

–

I

started

singing

.

t

h

a

t

.

song . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

even

–

–

brighter

days

.

a

r

e

.

black . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

drowning

.

i

n

.

the

lack . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

there’s

.

n

o

.

going

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

there’s

.

n

o

.

going

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There’s

.

n

o

.

going

back

.

t

o

.

the

days

.

t

h

a

t

.

used

.

t

o

.

smile

.

a

n

d

.

laugh . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there’s

.

n

o

.

going

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There’s

.

n

o

.

going

back

.

t

o

.

the

days

.

t

h

a

t

.

used

.

t

o

.

dance

.

a

n

d

.

clap . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there’s

.

n

o

.

going

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn,

–

–

long

beyond

–

–

where

.

t

h

a

t

.

road

.

h

a

d

.

gone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ long

beyond

–

–

where

.

o

l

d

.

dreams

.

h

a

d

.

run,

.

.

s

o

.

.

young

.

a

n

d

.

fun

.

i

n

.

everyone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I’m

still

–

–

holding

on.

Reflection: 

This poem reflects a personal struggle where the sufferer looks back and broods about a past where possibilities and opportunities presented themselves but were cast aside on the roll of the dice that better, brighter things might come his or her way instead. They never had but there is the hope that the sufferer is still holding on and might better appreciate a future possibility or opportunity that comes his/her way.

I played the wonderful gem of a song “Holding On” by The War on Drugs 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.

I

peered

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

matt

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

f

e

l

l

.

.

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

crack . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

.

.

.

.

.

f

e

l

l

.

.

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

crack . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

bathed

.

i

n

.

black . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

bathed

.

i

n

.

black

–

–

–

.

.

.

u

n

t

i

l

–

–

–

I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

u

n

t

i

l

–

–

–

I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back

.

t

o

.

the

dance

.

a

n

d

.

romance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back

.

t

o

.

the

elegant

.

a

n

d

.

grand . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

could

.

n

o

t

.

come

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

laughed.

Reflection: This was a popular personal struggle themed poem that I wrote back in December of 2020. The sufferer has experienced so many struggles in life that he/she has permanently changed the self and his/her overall life experience. Ultimately, the sufferer embraces the permanent change.

I used the song “Enjoy the Silence” by Depeche Mode playing in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for this poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Is

.

i

t

.

better

.

o

r

.

worse

.

t

o

.

move

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

hurt ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Is

.

i

t

.

better

.

o

r

.

worse

.

t

o

.

blend

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

blur ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

even

though

.

I

.

have

learned

.

t

o

.

lean

.

a

n

d

.

merge

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

twists

.

a

n

d

.

turns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

still

hear

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

words . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

places

where

.

t

h

e

.

candles

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

still

feel

.

t

h

a

t

.

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

places

where

.

t

h

e

.

candles

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

still

remember

.

t

h

a

t

.

allure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

places

where

.

t

h

e

.

candles

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ in

places

.

where

.

t

h

e

.

candles

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

yearn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

turn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

hurt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

blur . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

better . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

worse . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

places

where

.

t

h

e

.

candles

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ in

places

.

where

.

t

h

e

.

candles

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burn.

Reflection: This was a forgotten, but powerful romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in November of 2020 where the affected party struggles to move beyond relationship(s) of the past – because there are certain memories where “the candles still burn,” and select present day encounters which spark those memories and make them continue coming alive. Even when the affected party gets into new relationships, he or she still gets haunted and taunted by the past.

I played the wonderful gem of a song “Deacon Blues” by Steely Dan 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.

I

am

just

–

a

n

–

adventurous

kind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

who

does

–

n

o

t

–

like

–

t

h

e

–

boring

–

a

n

d

–

dry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

do

–

n

o

t

–

like

–

t

h

e

–

boring

–

a

n

d

–

dry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

that

–

w

a

s

–

the

high

–

o

f

–

my

last

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

.

w

a

s

.

the

high

–

o

f

–

the

last

time.

Reflection: This was a reflective-themed poem I wrote in reflection of a post I saw on social media from someone stating: “I hate boring and dry” as a note for the next person he/she would want to have a relationship with. Those words struck a chord and poetic rhythm with me and I then proceeded to write this simple, short poem.