I

.

s

a

w

.

today

–

–

just

.

a

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

–

–

faraway

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

s

a

w

.

just

.

a

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

–

–

faraway

place,

–

–

baked

.

i

n

t

o

.

a

.

laced,

–

–

cinnamon

glaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now,

nothing

.

c

a

n

.

replace

.

t

h

a

t

.

tantalizing

taste . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

nothing

.

c

a

n

.

replace

.

t

h

a

t

.

chronic

crave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

nothing

.

c

a

n

.

replace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

n

o

r

–

–

–

take

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Nothing

.

c

a

n

.

replace,

.

.

n

o

r

.

.

take

away

.

t

h

e

.

memory

.

o

f

.

the

dancing

–

–

reign

.

o

f

.

yesterdays,

–

–

lost

in

.

t

h

e

.

grace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

lost

in

.

t

h

e

.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

lost

in

.

t

h

e

.

careless

plays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

yesterdays

–

–

lost

in

.

t

h

e

.

grace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

lost

in

.

t

h

e

.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

lost

in

.

t

h

e

.

careless

plays

.

o

f

.

distant

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ distant

days

–

–

lost

.

i

n

.

careless

plays

–

–

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

s

a

w

.

today

–

–

just

.

a

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

–

–

faraway

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

s

a

w

.

today

–

–

just

.

a

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

–

–

faraway

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

s

a

w

.

today

–

–

just

.

a

.

trace

.

o

f

.

that

–

–

faraway

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

baked

.

i

n

t

o

.

a

.

laced,

–

–

cinnamon

glaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

baked

.

i

n

t

o

.

a

.

laced,

–

–

cinnamon

glaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now,

nothing

.

c

a

n

.

replace

.

t

h

a

t

.

tantalizing

taste . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

nothing

.

c

a

n

.

replace

.

t

h

a

t

.

chronic

crave.

Reflection: This was a forgotten but powerful personal struggle-themed poem where the affected party struggles with the torturous tease and tantalizing aspects of an addiction/compulsion he or she is seeking to permanently overcome. I played the wonderful gem of a song “Jumbo Jet” by Shout Out Louds 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.

A

stream

.

o

f

.

maybes

–

–

wanders

aimlessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

seeking

promise

.

a

n

d

.

possibility . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ seeking

promise

.

a

n

d

.

possibility . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

day,

–

–

after

day,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

week,

–

–

after

week . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

play,

–

–

after

play,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

street,

–

–

after

street . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

That

one’s

.

t

o

o
.

green,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

t

o

o

.

peach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

That

one’s

.

t

o

o

.

salty,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

one

.

t

o

o

.

sweet . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

everything

.

i

s

.

either

–

–

out

.

o

f

.

reach,

.

.

o

r

.

.

in

between . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ out

.

o

f

.

reach,

.

.

o

r

.

.

in

between,

.

f

o

r

.

maybe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Maybe

wanders

aimlessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

seeking

promise

.

a

n

d

.

possibility . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ seeking

promise

.

a

n

d

.

possibility . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

day,

–

–

after

day,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

week,

–

–

after

week . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

play,

–

–

after

play,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

street,

–

–

after

street . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dream,

–

–

after

dream,

–

–

after

dream,

–

–

after

dream,

–

–

after

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

each,

.

a

n

d

.

all,

.

a

n

d

.

every,

–

–

racing

ahead . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ racing

ahead

.

a

t

.

such

speed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

to

be

–

–

forever

out

.

o

f

.

reach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

be

–

–

forever

out

.

o

f

.

reach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

far

beyond

empty . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ far

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

bankruptcies,

–

–

fed

.

b

y

.

the

hopes

.

a

n

d

.

dreams

.

o

f

.

those

attempting

.

t

o

.

cash

out

–

–

their

fantasies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

those

attempting

.

t

o

.

cash

out

–

–

their

wandering

streams . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ their

wandering

streams

.

o

f

.

maybe.

Reflection: This was a popular personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in November of 2020 where the affected party is scattered by having too many possibilities and too little focus to be able to capitalize on much of any of them. I heard a song that sounded like it had lyrics that said “maybe drives” and liked the use of the word in that context – so that idea helped create the poem.

The

sadness

.

o

f

.

the

sea

.

i

s

.

all

around

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

khaki

.

i

s

.

the

color

.

o

f

.

the

memory . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ the

memory

.

o

f

.

all

that

.

w

a

s

.

once

.

s

o

.

free

.

a

n

d

.

green . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ of

.

a

l

l

.

that

.

w

a

s

.

once

.

s

o

.

free

.

a

n

d

.

green

.

.

i

n

.

.

the

spring . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ so

free

.

a

n

d

.

green

.

.

i

n

.

.

the

spring . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

was

.

t

h

e

.

all

.

a

n

d

.

everything

.

o

f

.

what

we

–

–

thought

we

–

–

could

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ of

what

we

–

–

thought

we

–

–

could

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

only

–

–

echoes

know

–

–

how

.

i

t

.

truly

feels

.

t

o

.

let

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Only

echoes

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Only

echoes

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Only

echoes

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

how

.

i

t

.

feels

.

t

o

.

let

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

sadness

.

o

f

.

the

sea

.

i

s

.

all

around

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

sadness

.

o

f

.

the

sea

.

i

s

.

all

around

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

sadness

.

o

f

.

the

sea

.

i

s

.

all

around
me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

khaki

.

i

s

.

the

color

.

o

f

.

the

memory,

.

o

f

.

all

that

.

w

a

s

.

once

.

s

o

.

free

.

a

n

d

.

green . . .

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ of

.

a

l

l

.

that

.

w

a

s

.

once

.

s

o

.

free

.

a

n

d

.

green

.

.

i

n

.

.

the

spring.

Reflection: This was a popular, reflective-themed poem I wrote back in October of 2020. The contemplator looks back on a free-wheeling freedom that is no longer present in his/her life.

I used the song “Diamonds and Rust” by Joan Baez which I played in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. The song really seemed to fit. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

The

nighttime

.

s

k

y

.

opens

.

i

t

s

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

nighttime

.

s

k

y

.

opens

.

i

t

s

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

dream

desires

.

a

n

d

.

sweet

delights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

.

w

i

l

l

.

only

.

b

e

.

a

.

little

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

i

l

l

.

only

.

b

e

.

a

.

little

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

this,

.

a

n

d

.

all,

.

a

n

d

.

everything,

–

–

comes

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ before

everything

.

comes

alive

.

tonight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ reaching

far,

.

a

n

d

.

wide,

.

a

n

d

.

deep,

.

a

n

d

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ reaching

far,

.

a

n

d

.

wide,

.

a

n

d

.

deep,

.

a

n

d

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

pouring

.

a

.

fine,

–

–

divine

wine

.

o

f

.

starshine

.

a

l

l

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

twilight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

by,

.

a

n

d

.

by,

.

a

n

d

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ dream

desires

.

a

n

d

.

sweet

delights

–

–

racing

’round

.

a

n

d

.

’round . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

side

.

b

y

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

moment

.

b

y

.

moment . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

mile

.

b

y

.

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

.

c

a

n

.

never

.

b

e

.

enough . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

there

.

c

a

n

.

never

.

b

e

.

enough . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

.

dream

desires

.

a

n

d

.

sweet

delights

.

never

.

g

o

.

out

.

o

f

.

style . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

.

t

h

e

y

.

never

.

g

o

.

out

.

o

f

.

style . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ calling

.

a

l

l

.

night,

–

–

every

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again,

.

a

n

d

.

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ every

moment

.

racing

against

.

t

h

e

.

haze,

.

o

f

.

a

.

haze,

.

o

f

.

a

.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ racing

against

.

t

h

e

.

haze,

.

o

f

.

a

.

haze,

.

o

f

.

a

.

haze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

vague

.

rush

.

o

f

.

speedways,

–

–

chasing

.

t

h

e

.

faraways . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ chasing

.

t

h

e

.

faraways

.

t

h

a

t

.

still

remain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

collect

.

t

h

e

.

days,

.

u

p

o

n

.

days,

.

u

p

o

n

.

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

yesterdays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yesterdays

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

yearn

.

a

n

d

.

merge

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

burn

.

o

f

.

the

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

merge

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

burn

.

o

f

.

the

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

blur . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

nighttime

.

s

k

y

.

opens

.

i

t

s

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

nighttime

.

s

k

y

.

opens

.

i

t

s

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

nighttime

.

s

k

y

.

opens

.

i

t

s

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

dream

desires

.

a

n

d

.

sweet

delights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time,

–

–

after

time,

–

–

after

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

mile,

–

–

after

mile,

–

–

after

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

collecting

.

t

h

e

.

days,

.

u

p

o

n

.

days,

.

u

p

o

n

.

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

yesterdays

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

yearn

.

a

n

d

.

merge

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

merge

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

burn

.

o

f

.

the

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

blur.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in October of 2020 where the affected party becomes addicted to the whirlwind excesses of the disco age – and the days and nights get consumed into a blur. I played the songs “Boogie Nights” by Heatwave and “Love to Love You, Baby” by Donna Summer in the background 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 first drafted an initial poem to the Donna Summer song, drafted a separate poem to the Heatwave song, and then merged the two poems together playing the Heatwave song for the remainder of the process.

I

search

.

t

h

e

–

.

alleys

.

a

n

d

.

skid

row

–

–

streets

.

t

h

a

t

.

scream,

.

a

n

d

.

bleed,

.

a

n

d

.

soundly

defeat . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

even

though

–

–

I

know

.

y

o

u

.

would

never

–

–

travel

.

t

h

e

s

e

.

alleys

.

a

n

d

.

streets

.

f

o

r

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

love

.

i

s

.

love

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

offers

.

n

o

.

in-betweens . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

love

.

i

s

.

love

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

moves

.

w

i

t

h

.

steady

ease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

through

even

.

t

h

e

.

snow

.

a

n

d

.

sleet . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

I

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ yes,

now

–

–

I

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

travel

.

a

n

y

.

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

carry

.

a

n

y

.

load . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

.

w

i

l

l

.

carry

.

a

n

y

.

load . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

love,

.

i

s

.

love,

.

i

s

.

love,

.

i

s

.

love . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

has

.

a

.

reach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

offers

.

n

o

.

in-betweens . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

simply

feeds

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

n

–

–

–

memories . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

simply

feeds

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

n

–

–

–

memories . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

how

things

–

–

used

.

t

o

.

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

how

things

–

–

used

.

t

o

.

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ yes,

love,

.

i

s

.

love,

.

i

s

.

love . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

simply

feeds

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

n

–

–

–

memories . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

glimmers

.

a

n

d

.

glows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

even

.

t

h

e

.

palest

.

o

f

.

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

even

.

t

h

e

.

palest

.

o

f

.

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

I

.

c

a

n

.

find

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

I

.

c

a

n

.

find

you

–

–

out

there . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

someway . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

somewhere . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

someday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

along

.

t

h

a

t

.

raw

.

a

n

d

.

rugged

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

I

.

c

a

n

.

find

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

I

.

c

a

n

.

find

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

along

.

t

h

a

t

.

raw

.

a

n

d

.

rugged

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

somehow

bring

.

y

o

u

.

home.

Reflection:  This poem was written in reflection of those we deeply love but who tend to struggle in life. We might strongly believe in them and see great potential, and would do anything to help them to find a more positive path – because we know they could do well in life if they could only find the path.

I used the wonderful song “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” by The Hollies to play repeatedly in the background at low volume as 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.

In

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

o

f

.

dancing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

in

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

o

f

.

dreaming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

everything

.

came

.

s

o

.

easily . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

everything

.

came

.

s

o

.

easily . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everything

.

s

o

.

easy,

–

–

in

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

o

f

.

dancing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

in

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

o

f

.

dreaming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Instant

cash

.

a

n

d

.

instant

success . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Instant

flash

.

a

n

d

.

instant

press . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Instant

begins

.

a

n

d

.

instant

ends . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Instant

sex

.

a

n

d

.

instant

regrets . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

s

a

w

.

you

.

o

n

c

e

.

by

.

t

h

e

.

sea,

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

i

t

.

was

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

i

t

.

was

.

we . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

i

t

.

was

.

three . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

then

.

i

t

.

was

.

three . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

might

.

h

a

v

e

.

been

.

t

h

e

.

daring

.

a

n

d

.

dazzling

fantasy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

might

.

h

a

v

e

.

been . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

might

.

h

a

v

e

.

been

.

t

h

e

.

tease

.

o

f

.

drugs

.

a

n

d

.

drink . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

might

.

h

a

v

e

.

been . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

now

.

i

t

.

seems . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

now

.

i

t

.

seems

we’re

.

merely

drifting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we’re

.

merely

drifting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

no

longer

.

sailing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we’re

drifting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

no

longer

.

sailing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

days

.

o

f

.

dancing

.

a

n

d

.

dreaming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

now

.

i

t

.

seems

.

we’re

drifting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

no

longer

.

sailing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

days

.

o

f

.

dancing

.

a

n

d

.

dreaming . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

has

.

t

h

a

t

.

ship

.

o

n

c

e

.

boldly

steaming,

–

–

–

.

.

.

only

.

b

e

e

n

.

fleeting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ only

.

b

e

e

n

.

fleeting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

slowly

sinking.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem I wrote back in September of 2020 where the contemplator looks back on the early days of a present relationship and ponders where the magic, dance, and dream had gone – and whether he/she will ever be able to bring it back or experience such days again. I played the wonderful gem of a song “Different Now” by Chastity Belt 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.

Did

you

really

–

–

think

today,

–

–

that

–

t

h

e

–

words

you

–

–

would

say

–

–

might

make

–

–

everything

okay . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ might

make

this,

–

a

n

d

–

all,

–

a

n

d

–

everything

–

–

–

.

.

.

g

o

–

–

–

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ make

it

all

–

–

–

.

.

.

g

o

–

–

–

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ make

it

all

–

–

–

.

.

.

g

o

–

–

–

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

all

–

o

f

–

those

hurricanes

–

a

n

d

–

thundering

rains . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ all

.

o

f

.

those

ghastly

grays,

–

–

waiting

–

i

n

–

the

shade

–

o

f

–

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ waiting

.

i

n

.

the

shade

–

o

f

–

rage

–

a

n

d

–

blame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

blame

–

a

n

d

–

rage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

what

could

–

–

have

been

–

–

better

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ those

ghastly

grays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ those

ghastly

grays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

waiting

–

i

n

–

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ waiting

.

i

n

.

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ waiting

.

i

n

.

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

shame,

–

a

n

d

–

rage,

–

a

n

d

–

blame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

what

could

–

–

have

been

–

–

better

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wiped

away

–

a

n

d

–

forever

erased . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

y

–

–

–

only

–

t

h

e

–

words

–

y

o

u

–

say . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

y

–

–

–

only

–

t

h

e

–

words

–

y

o

u

–

say . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

today.

Reflection:  I wrote this poem in reflection of a much-loved song at the time (“15” by Petal). So, if you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

dance ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

dance

inside

.

a

.

dream ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

dance

inside

.

a

.

dream

.

o

f

.

some

flashy,

–

–

flaunting

–

b

u

t

–

fleeting

–

–

feeling . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

where

.

y

o

u

.

might

–

–

rather

be ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

of

some

–

–

guilty

sweet

.

b

u

t

.

sexy

scene,

–

–

where

.

y

o

u

.

could

.

b

e

.

so

free ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ well,

“not me”

.

y

o

u

.

tease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it’s

only

.

s

o

m

e

.

silly

fantasy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it’s

only

.

s

o

m

e

.

seed

.

o

f

.

ecstasy,

–

–

this

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

only . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

only . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It’s

only . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

m

e

–

–

–

moving

memory . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ some

.

.

moving

memory

.

o

f

.

how

things

.

m

i

g

h

t

.

have

been,

–

–

this

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

that’s

.

n

o

t

.

the

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

that’s

.

n

o

t

.

the

way

.

i

t

.

seems . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

even

when

.

y

o

u

.

leave,

–

–

it’s

always

.

within

reach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

even

when

.

i

t

.

breathes

.

a

n

d

.

feeds,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

cannot

.

s

a

y

.

a

.

thing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ you

cannot

.

s

a

y

.

a

.

thing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

you

.

c

a

n

.

never

.

s

a

y

.

a

.

thing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

dance

inside

.

a

.

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

especially,

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

dance

inside

.

a

.

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

me.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem I wrote back in July of 2020 where the affected party cannot escape an addiction or compulsion of some kind – because it is always in the back of his/her mind: taunting, teasing, and haunting. I played the wonderful gem of a song “Particle” by Hundred Waters 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.

Was

.

i

t

.

just

a

honeymoon

–

–

which

brewed

–

–

those

me~s

.

a

n

d

.

you~s

.

a

n

d

.

I

love

you~s

.

i

n

t

o

.

those

wondrous,

–

–

forever

afternoons . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ those

wondrous,

–

–

forever

afternoons . . .

–

–

where

everything

–

–

seemed

.

s

o

.

new . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

so

easy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

so

true . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ those

wondrous,

–

–

forever

afternoons . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

music

–

–

wrote

.

t

h

e

.

tunes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

whispers

stirred

.

t

h

e

.

moods . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

those

rollaway

rooms

.

o

f

.

moons,

.

a

n

d

.

Mars,

.

a

n

d

.

Neptune . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

making

.

t

h

e

.

moves

.

o

f

.

youth

.

s

o

.

smooth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

made

.

t

h

e

.

moves

.

o

f

.

youth

.

s

o

.

smooth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

every

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

all

afternoon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

made

.

t

h

e

.

moves

.

o

f

.

youth

.

s

o

.

smooth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

made

.

t

h

e

.

moves

.

o

f

.

youth

.

s

o

.

smooth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

made

.

t

h

e

.

moves

.

o

f

.

youth

.

s

o

.

smooth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

me

.

a

n

d

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

rollaway

rooms

.

o

f

.

moons,

.

a

n

d

.

Mars,

.

a

n

d

.

Neptune . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ in

.

t

h

e

.

rollaway

rooms

.

o

f

.

moons,

.

a

n

d

.

Mars,

.

a

n

d

.

Neptune . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

a

honeymoon . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ of

a

honeymoon

–

–

still

.

i

n

.

bloom.

Reflection: This was a popular romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in July 2020. In this poem, the contemplator looks back fondly on an old romance back in the days of youth.

I used the song “When Will I See You Again” by The Three Degrees 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.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me,

–

–

who

–

h

a

d

–

been

whipped

–

a

n

d

–

beat . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me

–

–

who

–

w

a

s
–

forced

–

t

o

–

feel

empty,

–

a

n

d

–

cold,

–

a

n

d

–

weak . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

they

–

–

made

–

y

o

u

–

scream

–

a

n

d

–

bleed,

–

b

u

t

–

did

–

n

o

t

–

feed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was
me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me

–

w

h

o

–

would

offer

–

–

soothing

relief . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ who

would

–

b

e

–

the

one

–

t

o

–

grant

–

y

o

u

–

release,

–

–

from

–

a

l

l

–

they

forced

you

–

t

o

–

feel,

–

a

n

d

–

see,

–

a

n

d

–

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me

–

–

who

freed

–

y

o

u

–

from

all

–

o

f

–

these,

–

m

y

–

sweet . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

those

terrifying

days

–

o

f

–

such

innocent

age

–

a

n

d

–

belief . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

who

walked

–

w

i

t

h

–

blistering

feet

–

–

upon

–

t

h

e

–

fires

–

o

f

–

flaming

heat . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me

–

w

h

o

–

screamed,

–

a

n

d

–

screamed,

–

a

n

d

–

screamed,

–

a

n

d

–

screamed

–

–

against

–

t

h

e

–

bitter,

–

–

bloodthirsty,

–

–

bullet

machines . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

biting,

–

a

n

d

–

blazing,

–

a

n

d

–

blasting

ceaselessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

o

–

–

–

did

bleed

–

u

p

o

n

–

the

barbed

–

–

wire

strings . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wrapping

around,

–

a

n

d

–

around,

–

a

n

d

–

around,

–

a

n

d

–

around . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

–

y

o

u

–

could

–

–

barely

breathe

–

o

r

–

make

a

sound . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

cutting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

choking . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

crushing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

your

every

–

–

want . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

need . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i
t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

I

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

now

I

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

all

those

days

–

o

f

–

pain

–

w

i

l

l

–

never

–

g

o

–

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

–

g

o

–

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

try

–

t

o

–

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

try

–

t

o

–

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

t

–

–

–

all

behind

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

I

can

see

–

t

h

e

–

hurt

–

–

behind

–

y

o

u

r

–

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

can

–

–

hear

that

cry

–

i

n

–

the

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

can

–

–

hear

that

cry

–

i

n

–

the

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

–

i

t

–

may

–

b

e

–

both

–

t

o

o

–

hard

–

t

o

–

remain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

too

hard

–

t

o

–

escape . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

 know

–

i

t

–

may . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

–

i

t

–

may

–

b

e

–

both

–

t

o

o

–

hard

–

t

o

–

change . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

too

hard

–

t

o

–

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

know

–

i

t

–

may . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

let

–

m

e

–

stay . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

help

–

y

o

u

–

turn

–

t

h

e

–

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ let

.

m

e

.

stay . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

help

–

y

o

u

–

turn

–

t

h

e

–

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ away

from

–

t

h

e

–

storming

winds

–

a

n

d

–

rains

–

o

f

–

yesterday’s

hurricanes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ away

from

–

t

h

o

s

e

–

roaring

lanes

–

o

f

–

haste,

–

a

n

d

–

waste,

–

a

n

d

–

raging

hate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ away

from

–

t

h

e

–

fray

–

o

f

–

foreboding

faraways

–

–

where

–

t

h

e

–

heartaches

–

s

t

i

l

l

–

reign . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

.

t

h

e

.

heartaches

–

s

t

i

l

l

–

reign . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

never

fade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

–

m

e

–

stay

–

a

n

d

–

help

–

y

o

u

–

turn

–

t

h

e

–

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let

–

m

e

–

stay

–

a

n

d

–

help

–

y

o

u

–

turn

–

t

h

e

–

page . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

a

new

day . . .

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

not

only

–

a

m

–

I

awed

–

a

n

d

–

amazed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

I

–

s

o

–

appreciate

–

t

h

a

t

–

somehow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

someway . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

–

a

r

e

–

still

–

–

here

today . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

.

a

r

e

.

still

–

–

here

today . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

right

here

–

i

n

–

this
place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

even

though

–

o

u

r

–

time

–

i

s

–

far

–

t

o

o

–

late . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

promise

–

a

l

l

–

along

–

t

h

e

–

way

–

–

that

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

we

–

a

r

e

–

finally

together

again,

–

–

sweet

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

will

–

–

spend

each

–

a

n

d

–

every

day

–

–

that

remains . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

soothing

–

t

h

e

–

pain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

erasing

–

t

h

e

–

hate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

trying

–

t

o

–

make

–

y

o

u

–

feel

loved

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ trying

.

t

o

.

make

–

y

o

u

–

smile

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ trying

.

t

o

.

give

–

y

o

u

–

hope

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

promise

this

–

u

n

t

i

l

–

the

very

end . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

my

sweet,

–

–

precious

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

not

many

names

–

–

who

have

passed

–

y

o

u

r

–

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ not

many

names

–

–

who

have

carried

–

s

u

c

h

–

weight

–

a

t

–

such

a

young

–

a

n

d

–

tender

age . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

have

ever

–

–

been

able

–

t

o

–

break

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ have

ever

–

–

been

able

–

t

o

–

break

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

the

reach

–

o

f

–

that

dark

–

a

n

d

–

dismal

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

dark

–

a

n

d

–

dismal

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

–

t

h

e

–

heartaches

–

s

t

i

l

l

–

reign . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

.

t

h

e

.

heartaches

–

s

t

i

l

l

–

reign . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now,

I

–

w

i

l

l

–

slow

–

t

h

e

–

pace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

try

–

t

o

–

paint

away

–

a

l

l

–

those

shades

–

o

f

–

ghastly

grays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

warmly

try

–

t

o

–

erase

–

–

all

–

t

h

e

–

ways

–

t

h

e

y

–

made

–

y

o

u

–

ache . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

ways

–

t

h

e

y

–

made

–

y

o

u

–

break . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

d

o

w

n

–

–

–

to

–

t

h

e

–

most

stubborn

stain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

d

o

w

n

–

–

–

to

–

t

h

e

–

most

subtle

trace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

all

–

t

h

e

–

hurt

–

y

o

u

–

were

forced

–

t

o

–

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

for

all

–

o

f

–

the

misery . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

hostility . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

daunting

defeat . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

believe

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ believe

me,

–

–

my

sweet

–

a

n

d

–

precious

dear . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ much

more

–

t

h

a

n

–

anything . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

wish

–

i

t

–

was

me.

Reflection:

This was a poem which became popular in a unique way: usually, when I write and publish a poem it usually either catches on right away or it doesn’t. Well, this one caught on somewhat when I first released it – but for some reason got even more attention when people gave it a second look. I’m not sure why that happened, but it became even more popular the second time.

This poem might make you cry. Most anyone who has deeply loved another – especially the innocent who may have suffered in their past – will probably strongly relate to this poem and experience a powerful emotional response to it.

I wrote this poem in reflection of the movie “War Horse.” I used the music from the song “Adeline” by Alt-J, 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.