I

still

–

–

recall

the

.

f

a

l

l

.

of

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it

.

w

a

s

.

the

.

f

a

l

l

.

of

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes

–

–

burned

.

s

o

.

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes

–

–

burned

.

s

o

.

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

.

l

a

s

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

that

.

w

a

s

.

the

.

l

a

s

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

saw

–

–

your

eyes

–

–

burn

.

s

o

.

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

with

a

smile.

Reflection:  This was a popular melancholy-themed poem written back in March of 2024 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.

It

.

w

a

s

.

hard

.

t

o

.

tell

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

everything

that

.

w

a

s

.

badly

burned

.

a

n

d

.

buried

.

i

n

.

the

deep . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

w

a

s

.

hard

.

t

o

.

tell

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now,

I

.

c

a

n

.

see

.

a

n

d

.

feel

a

peace

–

–

within

reach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

c

a

n

.

see

.

a

n

d

.

feel

a

peace

–

–

within

reach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

beneath

the

seas

–

–

where

anxiety

sleeps . . . 

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

can

.

n

o

w

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

can

.

n

o

w

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

can

.

n

o

w

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

while

.

i

t

.

still

–

–

newly

breathes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ while

.

i

t

.

still

–

–

newly

breathes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ while

.

i

t

.

still

–

–

newly

breathes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

before

.

i

t

.

begins

.

t

o

.

bleed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

w

a

s

.

hard

.

t

o

.

tell

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

everything

that

.

w

a

s

.

badly

burned

.

a

n

d

.

buried

.

i

n

.

the

deep . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

w

a

s

.

hard

–

t

o

–

tell

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now,

I

.

c

a

n

.

see

.

a

n

d

.

feel

a

peace

–

–

within

reach.

Reflection: This was an inspirational/hope-themed poem which largely reflects the rush of hope and relief a sufferer secretly carrying a heavy burden can experience when he/she is finally able to find someone to share it with. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful song “Hard to Tell You” by Warpaint 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.

Curiosity

crumbles

.

t

h

e

.

walls

.

o

f

.

hostility,

–

–

–

.

.

.

judgment,

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

jealousy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Curiosity

leaps

.

f

a

r

.

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

valleys

–

–

that

blame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

defame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

demean . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Curiosity

celebrates

–

–

every

direction

.

o

f

.

differing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

every

color

.

o

f

.

diversity . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Curiosity

loves

.

a

n

d

.

values

–

–

everyone

.

a

n

d

.

everything . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Curiosity

clearly

sees

.

a

n

d

.

warmly

believes

–

–

that

every

–

–

form

.

o

f

.

humanity

.

i

s

.

free . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Curiosity

clearly

sees

.

a

n

d

.

warmly

believes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Curiosity

clearly

sees

.

a

n

d

.

warmly

believes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Curiosity

clearly

sees

.

a

n

d

.

warmly

believes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

every

life

–

–

that

breathes.

Reflection: This was an inspiration/hope-themed poem. I wrote most of this poem by reflecting on a Yahoo Finance article featuring an interview with Scott Shigeoka – a curiosity expert and author of the new book “Seek: How Curiosity Can Transform Your Life and Change the World.”

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

.

f

e

l

l

.

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

.

f

e

l

l

.

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 was a personal struggle-themed poem largely reflective of 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.

You

were

.

t

h

e

.

lows

–

–

chasing

highs

.

i

n

.

the

lamplight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

were

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm

.

a

n

d

.

the

rhyme

.

i

n

.

the

lamplight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

were

.

t

h

e

.

starshine

.

o

f

.

the

skies

.

i

n

.

the

lamplight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

let’s

.

f

a

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

rise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

dance

left

.

t

o

.

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

hours

.

o

f

.

the

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

.

f

a

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

rise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

roll

side

.

t

o

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

u

n

t

i

l

–

–

–

we

waltz

–

–

with

.

t

h

e

.

sunrise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

.

f

a

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

rise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

.

f

a

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

rise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

.

f

a

l

l

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

rise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

climb

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

t

i

l

l

.

we

find

–

–

a

place

.

t

o

.

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

climb

–

t

h

e

–

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

climb

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

climb

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

d

i

v

e

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

climb

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

climb

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

climb

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

d

i

v

e

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

t

o

–

–

–

the

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

race

.

t

h

e

.

tides

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

race

.

t

h

e

.

tides

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

race

.

t

h

e

.

tides

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

race

.

t

h

e

.

tides

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

wrongs

.

a

n

d

.

the

rights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

lines

.

a

n

d

.

the

divides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

sighs

.

a

n

d

.

the

cries

.

o

f

.

wintertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

.

w

e

.

have

.

a

l

l

.

night

.

t

o

.

make

.

i

t

.

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

have

.

a

l

l

.

night

.

t

o

.

live

.

a

l

l

.

the

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

live

.

a

l

l

.

the

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

paradise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

were

.

t

h

e

.

lows

–

–

chasing

highs

.

i

n

.

the

lamplight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

were

.

t

h

e

.

rhythm

.

a

n

d

.

the

rhyme

.

i

n

.

the

lamplight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

were

.

t

h

e

.

starshine

.

o

f

.

the

skies

.

i

n

.

the

lamplight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

let’s

close

.

t

h

e

.

blinds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

f

a

l

l

.

.

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

rise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ let’s

.

.

.

f

a

l

l

.

.

.

into

.

t

h

e

.

rise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

roll

side

.

t

o

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

hours

.

o

f

.

the

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

hours

.

o

f

.

the

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

leave

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

this

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

live

.

a

l

l

.

the

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

paradise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Let’s

roll

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

live

.

a

l

l

.

the

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

paradise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

can

–

–

roll

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

can

–

–

roll

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

can

–

–

roll

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

tonight,

–

–

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

can

–

–

roll

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

can

–

–

roll

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

can

–

–

roll

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

tonight,

–

–

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

.

l

e

t

.

tomorrow

decide.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem. I wrote most of this poem by reflecting on a hot, hot night I had with someone who shall go by the name of JT. What a wonderful experience! I think about it all the time.

Today,

a

.

n

e

w

.

dream

grows,

–

–

seeded

.

b

y

.

yesterday’s

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ today,

a

dream

grows,

–

–

seeded

.

b

y

.

yesterday’s

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

only

tomorrows

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

the

yesses

.

a

n

d

.

nos . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

the

fasts

.

a

n

d

.

slows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

the

highs

.

a

n

d

.

lows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

which

remains,

.

a

n

d

.

that

which

goes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

which

stagnates,

.

a

n

d

.

that

which

flows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

which

dims,

.

a

n

d

.

that

which

glows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

which

dims,

.

a

n

d

.

that

which

glows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

all

along

those

–

–

raw,

.

a

n

d

.

rugged,

.

a

n

d

.

restless

roads . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

all

.

t

h

e

.

places

.

w

e

.

would

go.

Reflection: This is a reflective poem written as a reminder that all of the choices we make over the weeks, months, and years influence what we experience later in life – so, choose as wisely as you can at the time and grow that wisdom over the years that go by. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful gem of a song “And So It Goes” by Billy Joel which I played repeatedly in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for (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.

It

.

w

a

s

.

in

this

town . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

in

this

house . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

in

this

room . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

I

knew

.

n

o

t

.

what

.

t

o

.

do . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

knew

.

n

o

t

.

what

.

t

o

.

do

.

.

i

n

.

.

that

room . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now,

–

–

only

.

t

h

e

.

tune

.

o

f

.

echoes

–

–

tells

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

tune

.

o

f

.

echoes

–

–

tells

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

no

matter

what,

.

o

r

.

who,

.

.

o

r

.

.

how

much,

.

o

r

.

how

few,

.

.

i

n

.

.

my

life

–

–

becomes

new . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

no

matter

–

–

how

frequent,

.

o

r

.

how

distant

–

–

I

try

.

t

o

.

move . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

tune

.

o

f

.

echoes

–

–

tells

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

tune

.

o

f

.

echoes

–

–

tells

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

tune

.

o

f

.

echoes

–

–

tells

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

tune

.

o

f

.

echoes

–

–

tells

.

t

h

e

.

truth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

consumes

.

t

h

e

.

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

in

this

town . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

in

this

house . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

in

this

room.

Reflection: This is a melancholy poem where the sufferer looks back on something that has greatly affected his or her life – perhaps something that he or she could have done something about but was unable to at the time for whatever reason (lack of strength, lack of experience, lack of courage, lack of confidence, whatever). I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “White Gloves” by Khruangbin which I played repeatedly in the background to create the “moodset” for (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.

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: This is an uplifting, inspirational poem I wrote about hope, mindfulness, optimism, and appreciation. 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.

Smiles

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

eyes

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

alive

–

–

across

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

alive

–

–

across

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

danced

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

danced

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

danced

alive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

skies

.

o

f

.

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

beneath

those

–

–

breathless

nights

.

o

f

.

wine,

–

–

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

exhilarating

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ beneath

those

–

–

breathless

nights

.

o

f

.

wine,

–

–

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

exhilarating

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

time

.

w

a

s

.

blind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

lies

.

w

e

r

e

.

kind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ Yes,

time

.

w

a

s

.

blind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

lies

.

w

e

r

e

.

kind

–

–

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

spinning

lights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ beneath

.

t

h

e

.

spinning

lights . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

those

breathless

nights

.

o

f

.

wine,

–

–

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

exhilarating

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ those

breathless

nights

.

o

f

.

wine,

–

–

rhyme,

.

a

n

d

.

exhilarating

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

smiles

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

eyes

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

alive

–

–

across

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

alive

–

–

across

.

t

h

e

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

starshine.

Reflection: This is a reflective poem looking back on the days of youth where everything was new and in bloom. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “Disco Girls” by Glosser which I played repeatedly in the background to create the “moodset” for (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.

There

must

.

b

e

.

more

.

t

h

a

n

.

this . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there

must

.

b

e

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

must

.

b

e

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

n

–

–

–

waiting

around

.

f

o

r

.

the

next

–

–

way

.

t

o

.

drown . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

must

.

b

e

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

n

–

–

–

racing

ahead . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ than

racing

ahead . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

that

burning

glow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

only

.

t

o

.

find

.

t

h

a

t

.

every

–

–

road,

–

–

leads

.

t

o

.

a

.

newer

low . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Your

every

–

–

road

–

–

leads

.

t

o

.

a

.

newer

low . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Your

every

–

–

road

–

–

leads

.

t

o

.

a

.

newer

low . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

begin

.

t

o

.

lose

.

t

h

a

t

.

glow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

begin

.

t

o

.

lose

.

t

h

a

t

.

glow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

begin

.

t

o

.

lose

.

t

h

a

t

.

glow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

begin

.

t

o

.

lose

.

t

h

a

t

.

glow

.

o

f

.

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

u

n

t

i

l

–

–

–

it

swallows

.

t

h

e

.

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

swallows

.

t

h

e

.

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

swallows

.

t

h

e

.

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

swallows

.

t

h

e

.

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

lose

.

t

h

a

t

.

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

must

.

b

e

.

more

.

t

h

a

n

.

this . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there

must

.

b

e

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

must

.

b

e

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

n

–

–

–

hanging

on

.

t

o

.

a

song

.

y

o

u

.

know

.

i

s

.

wrong . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

song

.

y

o

u

.

know

.

i

s

.

wrong . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

still

can’t

–

–

move

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

.

y

o

u

.

can’t

–

–

move

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

all

.

y

o

u

.

can

do

.

i

s

.

hang

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

the

next

–

–

way

.

t

o

.

drown . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

those

–

–

roads,

–

–

leading

.

t

o

.

newer

lows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

the

glow

.

o

f

.

hope

.

t

h

a

t

.

swallows

.

t

h

e

.

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

hanging

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

a

song

–

–

I

know

.

i

s

.

wrong.

Reflection: This was a forgotten but moving personal struggle-themed poem I wrote back in November of 2023 where the affected party cannot seem to find a path to longstanding joy, peace, and happiness. He/she repeatedly experiences the lows of life in multiple ways but there is hope in that the sufferer is still holding on and might find a way to create brighter future at some point.

I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gem of a song “Politik” by Coldplay which I played repeatedly in the background to create the “moodset” for (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.