I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

once . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

twice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

low . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

comes

.

t

h

e

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

time

.

t

o

.

decide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ now

come

.

t

h

e

.

lines . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

t

–

–

–

slice

.

a

n

d

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

divide

.

a

n

d

.

slice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

.

l

i

n

e

s

.

slice

.

a

n

d

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

.

l

i

n

e

s

.

slice

.

a

n

d

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

.

l

i

n

e

s

.

slice

.

a

n

d

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

life

.

o

f

.

yours . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

the

life

.

o

f

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

.

l

i

n

e

s

.

slice

.

a

n

d

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

.

l

i

n

e

s

.

slice

.

a

n

d

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

.

l

i

n

e

s

.

slice

.

a

n

d

.

divide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

life

.

o

f

.

yours . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

the

life

.

o

f

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry

.

f

o

r

.

those

future

roads

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

remain

forever 

unknown . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry

.

f

o

r

.

the

doors

.

t

h

a

t

.

close

.

i

n

.

a

place

.

o

n

c

e

.

called

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

let

.

t

i

m

e

.

decide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

b

o

u

t

–

–

–

the

lines

.

a

n

d

.

divides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

once . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

twice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

low . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

.

y

o

u

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

loved

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

only

.

t

i

m

e

.

decides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

only

.

t

i

m

e

.

decides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

only

.

t

i

m

e

.

decides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

cry.

Reflection: 

This is a melancholy-themed poem that came into being while listening to the haunting gem of a song: “The River” by Bruce Springsteen. Much of Bruce’s music is deeply moving, and this song is no exception. This poem reflects a romantic relationship gone wrong – and the deep emotional drops and life repercussions that can sometimes result from that. I’ve had multiple life experiences like this as I’m sure many others have. So, I hope this poem will resonate with some of you.

I played the song, “The River” by Bruce Springsteen in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to this song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

tunes

.

o

f

.

youth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

beauty

.

i

n

.

bloom . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

dancing

shoes

.

a

n

d

.

candlelight

fondues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

peruse

.

a

n

d

.

pursue . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

move

.

i

n

.

tune . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

tune

.

a

s

.

two . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

while

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

i

s

.

still

new . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

spinning

rooms . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

“mon~

swoons . . .”

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

martini

moons . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

passionate

reds

.

a

n

d

.

soothing

blues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

sunny

afternoons

.

a

n

d

.

barbecues . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

something

new . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I’m

.

i

n

.

the

mood . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

you.

Reflection: This is a fun, simple romantic-themed poem that I wrote in reflection of two things that happened recently: 

1. A few days ago, a young someone stopped me during my run, paid me a nice compliment, and asked for my phone number. I was very surprised – but it was a nice gesture. It made me smile  remembering that I did things like that when I was younger – I really miss those days.

2. A discussion I had with a friend regarding how in the days of youth we tend to be much more open and receptive, and it was not only much easier to experience loves and likes, but it happened much more frequently (it certainly did with me). My friend had commented about how difficult it was to help “save” young people from experiencing heartbreaks and making youthful blunders with respect to loves, likes, and such. But I gently countered that sometimes even the shakiest relationships in the beginning end up surviving and thriving over the longer term and that having such experiences at an early age probably increases the likelihood of eventually being able to establish a happy, solid, relationship that lasts. 

In my younger days, I was much more open, observant, curious, and impressionable, was easily moved and inspired, and found most everyone interesting in unique ways which I greatly appreciated. Many of those people I deeply respected and looked up to.

Sometimes when writing poetry if I can’t find the right words, I make up new ones. Such was the case in this poem with the made up word “mon~swoons” which really seemed to work and fit.

I played the song, “Young at Heart” by Frank Sinatra in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to this song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Who

do

.

y

o

u

.

turn

to . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

pale

glimmers

.

o

f

.

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

pitiful

places

.

n

o

.

one

.

e

l

s

e

.

dares

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

you’re

lost

.

a

n

d

.

cannot

find

.

t

h

a

t

.

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

road

.

b

a

c

k

.

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Who

do

.

y

o

u

.

turn

to ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Who

do

.

y

o

u

.

turn

to . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

r

.

dreamships

.

o

f

.

paradise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

become

littered

.

w

i

t

h

.

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

t

–

–

–

lean

.

o

n

.

fake

alibis . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

lean

.

o

n

.

fake

alibis . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

u

n

t

i

l

–

–

–

they

capsize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

capsize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

capsize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

capsize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

lies

lean

.

o

n

.

fake

alibis . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Who

do

.

y

o

u

.

turn

to ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Who

do

.

y

o

u

.

turn

to . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

heroes

.

b

e

c

o

m

e

.

ghosts . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

heroes

.

b

e

c

o

m

e

.

ghosts . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

echoes

surround

.

a

n

d

.

swallow

.

t

h

e

.

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Echoes

surround

.

a

n

d

.

swallow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Echoes

surround

.

a

n

d

.

swallow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Echoes

surround

.

a

n

d

.

swallow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

remind

.

y

o

u

.

you’re

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You’re

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You’re

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You’re

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

heroes

.

b

e

c

o

m

e

.

ghosts . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

echoes

surround

.

a

n

d

.

swallow

.

t

h

e

.

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

everyone

.

w

a

n

t

s

.

a

.

hero

.

t

o

.

hold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Everyone

.

w

a

n

t

s

.

a

.

hero

.

t

o

.

hold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Everyone

.

w

a

n

t

s

.

a

.

hero

.

t

o

.

hold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

pale

glimmers

.

o

f

.

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

pitiful

places

.

n

o

.

one

.

e

l

s

e

.

dares

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

you’re

lost

.

a

n

d

.

cannot

find

.

t

h

a

t

.

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

road

.

b

a

c

k

.

home.

Reflection: 

This is a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote in reflection of those who might have inspired, supported, or guided us in life – they might have been family members, friends, romantic partners, co-workers, teachers, or even artists/celebrities who moved us in some way. Those who have been most fortunate have had certain kinds of “heroic” figures consistently throughout their entire lives – while others may have only had them for specific parts of their lives – until they perhaps came to realize their “heroes” were not as perfect as initially thought. In either case, it can really weigh on us when our heroes become ghosts – whether through death, distance, delusion, or disappointment. When I was much younger, I was very impressionable and had several people that I deeply respected and looked up to. Sometimes, I really miss those days – “heroes” seem much harder to find here in my later years.

I was saddened by the death of Robert Redford who was a unique role model for so many, and I used that to help drive the writing of this poem. I played the haunting gem of a song, “Nihilist Abyss” by Emily Haines & Soft Skeleton in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to this song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

you’re

.

h

e

r

e

.

with

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

everything

finds

.

i

t

s

.

peace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

t

–

–

–

makes

.

m

e

.

long

.

t

o

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

makes

.

m

e

.

long

.

t

o

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

nice,

–

–

neat,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

clean . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ it

makes

.

m

e

.

long

.

t

o

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

makes

.

m

e

.

long

.

t

o

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

lock-in

lines

.

o

f

.

what

.

a

.

good

life

.

i

s

.

supposed

.

t

o

.

mean . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ it

makes

.

m

e

.

long

.

t

o

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream

. 

o

f

.

places

.

f

a

r

.

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

reach . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream

.

o

f

.

experiences

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

extreme . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

you’re

.

h

e

r

e

.

with

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

–

–

–

everything

.

f

i

n

d

s

.

its

peace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Freedom

sings

.

s

o

.

sweetly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

t

–

–

–

makes

.

m

e

.

long

.

t

o

.

leave.

Reflection: This is a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote where the affected party gets a little restless (and perhaps even a little reckless) when things perfectly align and his/her life finds it’s stride and starts going pretty fine overall. The urges that can arise in such lull periods of time are frequently the reason relationships do not last for some people.

For something different, I tuned into a 1970s radio station today and a past favorite song of mine was playing: “Take it to the Limit” by The Eagles. The lyric: “And when you’re looking for your freedom (nobody seems to care)” stuck with me. So, I started with “freedom” as the general theme for this poem which is something I greatly value and that strongly resonates with me. I played the above Eagles song in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to this song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

mile,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

mile,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

time,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

time,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

hide

.

b

e

h

i

n

d

.

the

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

hide

.

b

e

h

i

n

d

.

the

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

hide

.

b

e

h

i

n

d

.

the

climbs

.

a

n

d

.

dives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

hide

.

b

e

h

i

n

d

.

the

lows

.

a

n

d

.

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pretend

everything

.

i

s

.

fine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everything

.

i

s

.

fine,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

sometimes

.

j

u

s

t

.

alright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everything

.

i

s

.

fine,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

sometimes

.

j

u

s

t

.

alright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

.

t

h

e

.

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ until

.

t

h

e

.

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

e

–

–

–

decide

.

t

o

.

be

blind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ until

.

t

h

e

.

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

e

–

–

–

cannot

find

.

t

h

e

.

warming

light . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ until

.

t

h

e

.

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

air

is

.

t

o

o

.

tight,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

the

lanes

.

t

o

o

.

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

even

.

w

h

i

l

e

.

walking

.

side

.

b

y

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ even

.

w

h

i

l

e

.

walking

.

side

.

b

y

.

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

can

.

o

n

l

y

.

sigh . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

can

.

o

n

l

y

.

sigh . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

mile,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

mile,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

.

.

.

time,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

time,

.

.

a

f

t

e

r

.

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

put

.

o

u

r

.

love

.

o

n

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

hide.

Reflection: This is romantic-themed poem where the affected parties in a once warm and passionate romance cannot seem to close the distance in a relationship that gets dimmer and colder over time. We get the feeling the clouds of bitterness, loneliness, and despair will continue to darken and consume until the relationship finally ends. I wrote much of this poem by listening to the wonderful, haunting gems of songs: “Good Love” by Zola Blood and “Birdsong” by Claptone featuring Zola Blood. I played these songs in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the writing of the poem. If you listen to these songs at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

It

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

moon

.

t

o

o

.

full . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

moon

.

t

o

o

.

full

.

o

f

.

blue . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

want

.

t

o

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

want

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

believe

.

y

o

u

.

need

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

feel

.

y

o

u

.

love

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

(too) . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

want

.

t

o

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

want

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

believe

.

y

o

u

.

need

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

feel

.

y

o

u

.

love

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

(too) . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

want

.

t

o

.

see . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

we

.

w

e

r

e

.

all

.

a

n

d

.

everything . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

t

–

–

–

seemed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

a

n

d

.

everything . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

t

–

–

–

seemed

.

t

o

.

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

want

.

t

o

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

want

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

believe

.

y

o

u

.

need

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

feel

.

y

o

u

.

love

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

(too) . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

want

.

t

o

.

see

.

y

o

u

.

want

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

believe

.

y

o

u

.

need

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

feel

.

y

o

u

.

love

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

(too) . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

even

though

.

t

h

e

.

moon’s

.

t

o

o

.

full . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ even

though

.

t

h

e

.

moon’s

.

t

o

o

.

full . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

blue . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

knowing

you

.

w

i

l

l

.

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ knowing

you

.

w

i

l

l

.

leave

.

h

e

r

e

.

soon.

Reflection: This is a melancholy-themed poem where the affected party does not feel as wanted, needed, or loved by someone he or she would like to be closer to. It could be a family member, friend, or romantic partner. We get the feeling the affected party is willing to do anything to close the distance, but that time is getting short, and reconciliation elusive. I’ve had multiple experiences like this in my life as I’m sure many people have. Sometimes, all you can do is your best in doing your part – knowing you never control the end result. I wrote most of this poem by listening to the wonderful, gem of a song “WXW” by 1st Base Runner 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.

When

.

y

o

u

.

knew

.

m

e

.

then . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

it

.

w

a

s

.

easy

.

t

o

.

be

.

m

y

.

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

easy

.

t

o

.

be

.

m

y

.

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

knew

.

m

e

.

then . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

When

.

y

o

u

.

knew

.

m

e

.

then . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

it

felt

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

never

end . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

felt

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

never

end . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

knew

.

m

e

.

then . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

smiles

.

o

f

.

sunshine

.

a

n

d

.

summertime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

r

e

–

–

–

not

.

a

s

.

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

not

.

a

s

.

kind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

learn

about

.

t

h

e

.

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

.

y

o

u

.

learn

about

.

t

h

e

.

lies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

.

h

i

d

e

.

right

.

i

n

.

front

.

o

f

.

the

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

right

.

i

n

.

front

.

o

f

.

the

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

sometimes

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ sometimes

they

.

h

i

d

e

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

yes,

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

knew

.

m

e

.

then . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

it

.

w

a

s

.

easy

.

t

o

.

be

.

m

y

.

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

easy

.

t

o

.

be

.

m

y

.

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

knew

.

m

e

.

then.

Reflection: This is a melancholy-themed poem that came into being rather quickly. The opening lines came to me and the poem pretty much wrote itself from those. The poem largely reflects the naivety of my youth – I was able to like, love, and trust so easily back then. I sometimes miss the warmly open, happy, smiley, fun-spirited person I used to be but realize the difficult life lessons had to be learned.

Users

.

a

n

d

.

abusers

.

c

a

n

.

be

.

s

o

.

charming

.

i

n

.

their

ways . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ users

.

a

n

d

.

abusers

.

attract

.

m

e

.

to

.

t

h

i

s

.

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

volcanic

vibrations . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

soothing

sensations . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Everyone

likes

.

t

o

.

feel . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

each,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

all,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

every

.

.

o

f

.

.

these . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

even

.

w

h

e

n

.

boarding

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ even

.

w

h

e

n

.

boarding

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

board

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

board

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

board

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

knowing

.

t

h

e

.

destination

.

w

i

l

l

.

remain

.

t

h

e

.

same . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

board

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

board

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

We

board

.

t

h

e

.

same

.

o

l

d

.

train . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

users

.

a

n

d

.

abusers

.

c

a

n

.

be

.

s

o

.

charming

.

i

n

.

their

ways.

Reflection: This is a personal struggle-themed poem that came into being after watching and reflecting on a recent Netflix movie: “On Swift Horses.” I sometimes never know when poetic inspiration will come – but it did today. The opening lines came to me and the poem pretty much wrote itself from there. I’m sure many people will be able to relate to this poem as many of us have probably had life experiences where we become drawn to that which is not good for us: craving the attention, passions, and experiences of the moment – even when they do not last.

There

might

.

b

e

.

times

.

when

.

t

h

e

.

cracks

reveal

.

t

h

e

.

fears . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

fears . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

not

coming

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

consumed

.

b

y

.

the

black . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

consumed

.

b

y

.

the

lack . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

consumed

.

b

y

.

the

cracks . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

fears

.

o

f

.

not

coming

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

fears

.

o

f

.

not

coming

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

.

I

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

as

night

arrives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

find

.

.

I

still

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

buy

.

t

h

e

.

peace

.

a

n

d

.

confidence

.

I

.

need . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

while

Illusions

.

a

r

e

.

charming

.

a

n

d

.

sweet . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

while

time

.

i

s

.

kind,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

fantasies

free . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

buy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

.

f

e

w

.

more

minutes

.

u

n

t

i

l

.

everything

aligns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

.

f

e

w

.

more

minutes

.

u

n

t

i

l

.

you

see

.

t

h

e

.

me

.

e

y

e

s

.

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

.

m

e

.

seen

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

the

while

.

I

.

live

.

t

h

e

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

the

while

.

I

.

hide

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

the

while

.

I

.

try

.

t

o

.

deny . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

All

.

t

h

e

.

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

All

.

t

h

e

.

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

All

.

t

h

e

.

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

All

.

t

h

e

.

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

.

f

e

w

.

more

minutes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

.

f

e

w

.

more

minutes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

.

f

e

w

.

minutes

more

.

u

n

t

i

l

.

the

.

n

e

w

.

arrives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

A

.

f

e

w

.

minutes

more

.

u

n

t

i

l

.

the

me

.

e

y

e

s

.

recognize . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

–

–

–

.

.

.

–

–

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

–

–

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

–

–

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

–

–

–

Five

.

d

a

y

s

.

later

.

t

h

e

.

deep

decline . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Five

.

d

a

y

s

.

later

regrets

.

i

t

.

every

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Five

.

d

a

y

s

.

later . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Five

.

d

a

y

s

.

later . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Five

.

d

a

y

s

.

later . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Five

.

d

a

y

s

.

later . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

strive

.

t

o

.

rewrite

.

t

h

e

.

lines

.

a

n

d

.

signs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

strive

.

t

o

.

rewrite . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

cracks

reveal

.

t

h

e

.

fears

each

.

a

n

d

.

every

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

cracks

reveal

.

t

h

e

.

fears . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

cracks

reveal

.

t

h

e

.

fears . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

cracks

reveal

.

t

h

e

.

fears . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

not

coming

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

consumed

.

b

y

.

the

black . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

consumed

.

b

y

.

the

lack . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

consumed

.

b

y

.

the

cracks . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

fears

.

o

f

.

not

coming

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

fears

.

o

f

.

not

coming

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

.

for

.

n

o

w

.

I

close

.

m

y

.

eyes,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

cast

.

i

t

.

all

aside . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

close

.

m

y

.

eyes,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

cast

.

i

t

.

all

aside . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

as

night

arrives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

find

.

I

.

still

.

c

a

n

.

buy.

Reflection: This is a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote where the affected party repeatedly struggles with the ups and downs and fears and declines of a relentless, negative addiction or compulsion cycle. This poem was initially inspired by the song “Image” by Magdalena Bay and was refined listening to this song as well as two other songs “Waiting for the Night” by Depeche Mode and “Drifter” by Siouxsie & the Banshees. I played these songs on repeat rotation, at low volume, 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.

You

caught

.

m

y

.

eye . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

danced

.

w

I

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

danced

.

w

I

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

danced

.

w

I

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

mesmerized . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

mesmerized . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

warming

winelight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

mesmerized . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

dreamsicle

delight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

mesmerized . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

All

night

.

y

o

u

.

danced

.

w

I

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

smile

reserved

.

f

o

r

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

.

.

.

the

warming

winelight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

dreamsicle

delight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

smile

reserved

.

f

o

r

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

sometimes,

.

.

I

.

.

like

.

t

o

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

o

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

.

.

.

the

mood

.

i

s

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

feelings

nigh . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

like

.

t

o

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

o

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

h

e

n

.

.

.

runway

rhymes

.

o

f

.

the

mind,

.

.

r

i

s

e

.

.

into

romantic

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

like

.

t

o

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

o

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

o

.

lie,

–

–

sometimes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ sometimes,

.

.

I

.

.

like

.

t

o

.

lie,

–

–

alright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

all

night

.

y

o

u

.

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

You

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

dreamsicle

delight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

warming

winelight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ in

.

t

h

e

.

starshine

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

another’s

eyes.

Reflection: This is a romantic-themed poem that I wrote in July of 2025. The opening lines came to me while I was out one night – you just never know when inspiration might arrive. In this poem the contemplator catches the eye of someone he or she desires and the person smiles – and everything takes off from there. Once I got home, I refined this poem by listening to the wonderful song: “Simple” by Homeshake which I played in the background to create the “moodset” and inspire the refinement of the poem – it 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.