Images

.

a

n

d

.

glimpses,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

images

.

a

n

d

.

glimpses,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

images

.

a

n

d

.

glimpses,

.

.

o

f

.

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

candle

.

o

f

.

my

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

candle

.

o

f

.

my

hope . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

burns

.

f

o

r

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

every

day,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

every

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ even

.

a

s

.

weeks

.

a

n

d

.

months

.

g

o

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

.

I

.

know

.

t

h

a

t

.

even

.

i

f

.

distance,

.

.

m

u

s

t

.

.

walk

.

t

h

e

.

miles,

–

–

you

.

w

i

l

l

.

someday

arrive

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

.

tender

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ with

.

a

.

tender

smile

.

t

h

a

t

.

erases

all

.

t

h

e

.

time

.

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

the

.

t

i

m

e

.

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

i

l

l

.

arrive

with

.

t

h

a

t

.

blissful

wine,

–

–

which

pours

.

i

t

s

.

joy

.

a

n

d

.

delight,

–

–

into

.

t

h

e

.

yearning

heart

.

o

f

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ into

.

t

h

e

.

yearning

heart

.

o

f

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

i

l

l

.

arrive,

.

.

w

i

t

h

.

.

those

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ with

.

t

h

o

e

.

eyes

.

t

h

a

t

.

charm

.

a

n

d

.

warm

me

.

a

l

l

.

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while

.

t

h

a

t

.

you

.

a

r

e

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

while

.

t

h

a

t

.

you

.

a

r

e

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Next

time,

.

.

I

.

.

w

i

l

l

.

waltz

with

.

t

h

e

.

drifting

tide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Next

time,

.

.

I

.

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

.

s

a

y

.

goodbye . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

.

s

a

y

.

goodbye . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

next

time.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2002 in reflection of a brief, but powerful romantic experience I had back then. I probably should have done more to try to keep it going – because even though you might believe the opportunity will come around again, many times it doesn’t. So, you have to make the most of it the first time it happens. I’ve had several experiences like this in my life as I’m sure many others have.

One

.

c

a

n

.

understand

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

understands . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

believe

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

believes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

share

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

shares . . .

–

–

–

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

dream

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

dreams . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ only

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

dreams . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

perceive

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

perceives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

seek

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

seeks . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

hear

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

hears . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

feel

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

feels . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ only

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

feels . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

understand

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

understands . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.
 ~ perceive

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

perceives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

understand

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

understands . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.
 ~ perceive

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

perceives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

One

.

c

a

n

.

understand

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

understands . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.
 ~ perceive

all,

.

.

o

n

l

y

.

.

in

.

a

l

l

.

he

perceives . . .

–

–

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

.

.

that

.

i

s

.

all.

Reflection: This was an inspiration/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2002 to help inspire people to recognize how truly limited we are in terms of true perceptions, understanding, feelings, beliefs, and such. However, frequently we make judgements and form beliefs and opinions based on these limitations without even recognizing these. Much of this poem was inspired by the Bjork song: “I’ve seen it all.” I just love the contrast.

Admire the drive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Admire the drive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Admire the drive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

pity the sacrifice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

could

.

e

a

r

n

.

a

promotion,

–

–

if

each

.

a

n

d

.

every

day

.

y

o

u

.

wear

.

t

h

e

.

proper

attire,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

a

smile

.

that’s

nice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

could

.

e

a

r

n

.

a

promotion . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

could

.

e

a

r

n

.

a

promotion,

.

.

i

f

.

.

you

.

a

r

e

.

always

.

t

h

e

.

first

.

t

o

.

arrive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ if

.

y

o

u

.

volunteer

.

t

o

.

work

night,

–

–

after

night,

–

–

after

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

without

charging

overtime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

could

.

e

a

r

n

.

a

promotion . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

could

.

e

a

r

n

.

a

promotion,

.

.

i

f

.

.

you

make

.

y

o

u

r

.

job

.

a

.

large

part

.

o

f

.

your

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

for

weeks . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

for

months . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

for

years . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

t

.

.

.

a

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

don’t

.

y

o

u

.

know

someday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

someday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ maybe

.

years

before

.

y

o

u

.

retire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

.

m

i

g

h

t

.

even

.

b

e

.

recognized

.

f

o

r

.

all

.

t

h

e

.

contributions . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

all

.

y

o

u

r

.

contributions,

–

–

which

made

.

y

o

u

r

.

organization

thrive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it’s

likely

.

y

o

u

.

might

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

likely

.

y

o

u

.

might

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

o

u

–

–

–

only

have

.

t

o

.

wait

.

a

.

little

while,

–

–

before

.

t

h

e

.

next

.

opportunity

arrives . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

only

have

.

t

o

.

wait

.

a

.

little

while,

.

.

t

o

.

.

realize

.

t

h

e

.

climb

.

y

o

u

.

desire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

continue

working

.

y

o

u

r

.

way

.

t

o

.

the

front

.

o

f

.

the

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it

could

.

b

e

.

well

worth

.

t

h

e

.

investment

.

o

f

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

could

.

b

e

.

well

worth

.

t

h

e

.

life

.

y

o

u

.

leave

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

you

could

.

e

a

r

n

.

a

.

promotion . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

could

.

e

a

r

n

.

a

.

promotion.

Reflection: This was a reflective-themed poem that I wrote back in August of 2002 in observation of those who routinely create an unhealthy balance between work and outside-of-work activities. A good, healthy way to look at work is making sure that, as a minimum, it provides the life you want outside of work.

When

hunger

.

i

s

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

torture . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

destruction . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

.

those

.

w

h

o

.

suffer,

.

.

w

i

l

l

.

.

never

.

b

e

.

heard . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

screaming

wounds

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ screaming

wounds

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

those

.

w

h

o

.

live,

–

–

safe

.

a

n

d

.

secure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

those

.

w

h

o

.

rest

.

w

i

t

h

.

their

.

futures

assured . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

those

.

w

h

o

.

live,

–

–

among

.

t

h

e

.

common

herd,

.

.

w

i

l

l

.

.

never

.

b

e

.

able

.

t

o

.

discern . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

what

.

t

h

e

i

r

.

peace,

–

–

love,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

freedom . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

s

–

–

–

worth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

they

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

.

b

e

.

able

.

t

o

.

discern . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

color . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

depth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

the

texture . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

the

hurt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Despair . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Terror . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Oppression . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Death . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

just

.

a

.

word.

Reflection: This was a reflective-themed poem that I wrote back in August of 2002 in reflection of various negative happenings in the world and the associated news stories and commentaries by those too far removed to relate or judge – but do so anyway to the detriment of the victims who could use a little help. So many cannot even begin to fathom the pain and suffering of others from a distance or without experiencing it on their own.

The

taunting

echoes

–

–

still

haunt

me

.

.

d

o

w

n

.

.

those

reminiscent

halls . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

don’t

.

y

o

u

.

know

.

I

.

wish

sometimes,

.

.

I

.

.

could

make

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

memories

small . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ don’t

.

y

o

u

.

know

.

I

.

wish

sometimes,

.

.

I

.

.

could

forgive

.

a

n

d

.

forget

.

i

t

.

all . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

.

know

.

w

e

.

were

.

m

u

c

h

.

younger

within

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

walls . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

.

w

e

.

walked

.

b

a

c

k

.

then,

.

.

s

o

.

.

awkward

.

i

n

.

our

flaws . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

walked

.

s

o

.

awkward

.

i

n

.

our

flaws . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

as

.

I

.

stroll

past

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

memories,

.

.

t

h

e

.

.

wounds

.

t

o

o

.

deep

.

t

o

.

heal,

–

–

begin

.

t

o

.

burn

.

a

n

d

.

bleed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

burn

.

a

n

d

.

bleed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

burn

.

a

n

d

.

bleed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

burn

.

a

n

d

.

bleed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

make

.

m

e

.

feel

.

t

o

o

.

strange

.

t

o

.

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

too

strange

.

t

o

.

offer

even

.

a

.

cool

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

feel

.

t

o

o

.

strange

.

t

o

.

engage . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

too

strange

.

t

o

.

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

pretend

.

n

o

t

.

to

recall:

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

faces . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

names . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

aches . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

turn

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

turn

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

the

pain

.

t

h

a

t

.

still

remains . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

search

.

f

o

r

.

a

.

more

brotherly,

–

–

sisterly

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

.

I

.

won’t

.

f

e

e

l

.

this

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

.

I

.

won’t

.

f

e

e

l

.

this

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

today.

Reflection: This was a forgotten but powerful personal struggle-themed poem I wrote back in August of 2002 where the affected party is haunted by and cannot escape the ugly hurt and shame experienced in the past. This poem was based on personal experiences from my childhood days. I wish I could just forgive and forget but have come to realize that is not always possible – because at times we continue feeling hurt and awkward around certain people in our lives.

Can

.

y

o

u

.

perceive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Can

.

y

o

u

.

even

perceive . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

–

–

–

pain

upon

.

t

h

e

.

page,

.

.

a

s

.

.

you

begin

.

t

o

.

read . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ as

.

y

o

u

.

begin

.

t

o

.

read . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

about

.

w

h

a

t

.

happened

.

t

o

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

of

.

t

h

e

.

dying

hopes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dared

.

t

o

.

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

of

.

t

h

e

.

dying

hopes,

.

.

I

dared

.

t

o

.

dream.

Reflection: This was a simple, reflective-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2002 when pondering how much of what I write actually gets translated into feelings, meanings, and inspirations which are closely aligned with the original experience, observation, or intent.

I

care . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

genuinely

care . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

how

.

d

o

.

I

.

hold

on ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

.

d

o

.

I

.

hold

on,

.

.

t

o

.

.

all

.

o

f

.

those

.

w

h

o

.

add

color

.

t

o

.

my

life ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

.

d

o

.

I ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

.

d

o

.

I

.

hold

on,

.

.

t

o

.

.

their

guiding

lights

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

shine ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

.

d

o

.

I ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

How

.

d

o

.

I

.

hold

on

.

t

o

.

their

warming

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

.

.

.

I

journey

.

f

r

o

m

.

mile

.

t

o

.

mile ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

.

d

o

.

I ?

Reflection: This was an inspirational/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2002 in honor of all of those special, wonderful people who have greatly contributed to my life and/or served to deeply inspire me. They added such warmth, color, beauty, and music to my life and to the living collage that is me – and today I am the result of all of those contributing parts and pieces (and more). And I cherish and appreciate each and every one of them.

I

know

.

y

o

u

.

wanted

.

m

e

.

to

.

b

e

.

perfect,

.

.

i

n

.

.

every

possible

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

although,

.

.

I

try

.

I

know

.

I

.

c

a

n

. 

never

navigate

.

a

l

l

.

the

obstacles

.

y

o

u

.

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

t

h

e

.

obstacles

.

y

o

u

.

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

within

.

y

o

u

r

.

proving

maze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Is

love

.

n

o

t

.

enough ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Is

love

.

n

o

t

.

enough . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

separate

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

silhouettes

stained

.

b

y

.

your

eternal

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Is

love

.

n

o

t

.

enough ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Is

love

.

n

o

t

.

enough . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

move

away

.

a

n

d

.

into

.

s

o

m

e

.

brighter

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

rot

.

a

n

d

.

waste

.

t

h

a

t

.

decays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Is

love

.

n

o

t

.

enough ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

Is

love

.

n

o

t

.

enough . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

make

opinions

sway . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

gain

.

a

.

warm

embrace

.

s

o

.

I

.

do

.

n

o

t

.

fade

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

setting

haze

.

l

i

k

e

.

those

.

f

r

o

m

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

try

.

s

o

.

hard . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

try

.

s

o

.

hard . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

be

.

s

o

.

clean,

.

.

s

o

.

.

sincere,

.

.

s

o

.

.

pristine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

pray

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

be

.

t

h

e

.

each,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

all,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

everything,

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

ponder

.

h

o

w

.

much

you

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

truly

believe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ how

much

.

y

o

u

.

would

.

truly

believe . . ,

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

a

m

.

still

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

a

m

.

still

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

offer

.

m

e

.

defeat . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

feed

.

m

e

.

reality . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now,

–

–

instead

.

o

f

.

angels

.

o

n

l

y

.

demons

breathe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Instead

.

o

f

.

hope,

.

.

I

.

f

e

e

l

.

unease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

f

e

e

l

.

unease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

e

t

–

–

–

still,

.

.

I

dream . . .

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

dream.

Reflection: This was a forgotten personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2007 where the affected party struggles against a brutal, judgmental, domineering force. Nothing the affected party does will ever be enough – so, self-acceptance and standing up for oneself is most likely the best path to pursue.

I hope you had

a wonderful time . . .

–

–

I hope you had

the time of your life . . .

–

–

I hope you had

a wonderful time . . .

–

–

I hope you had

the time of your life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

forget

.

t

h

e

.

night

.

y

o

u

r

.

warmth

merged

.

w

i

t

h

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

never

forget

.

t

h

e

.

night

.

o

f

.

rhyme,

–

–

romance,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

left

.

i

t

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

left

.

i

t

.

all

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

while

.

t

h

e

.

diamonds

glimmered

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

while

.

t

h

e

.

paradise

warmly

shined . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

know

.

i

t

.

might

come

.

a

s

.

some

surprise,

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

I

.

took

each

.

o

f

.

these

moments,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

made

love

.

f

o

r

.

hours

.

a

t

.

a

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

without

leaving

.

t

h

e

.

dream

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ without

leaving

.

t

h

e

.

dream

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

.

t

h

e

.

gentle

footsteps

.

o

f

.

youth,

–

–

eternally

dance:

–

–

–

.

.

.

within

.

m

y

.

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

within

.

m

y

.

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

within

.

m

y

.

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

daydream

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

ever

.

s

o

.

sweetly

smiles . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

h

o

p

e

.

whenever

.

y

o

u

.

look

behind,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

find

.

a

.

part

.

o

f

.

me

.

t

h

a

t

.

still

makes

.

y

o

u

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ some

part

.

o

f

.

me

.

t

h

a

t

.

does

.

n

o

t

.

bring

tears

.

t

o

.

your

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

am

.

n

o

t

.

the

ordinary

guy,

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

one

who

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

rather

leave,

–

–

warmly

content

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

pocket

.

f

u

l

l

.

of

alibis

.

a

n

d

.

reasons

why,

.

.

t

h

a

n

.

.

stay

behind

.

l

o

n

g

.

enough

.

t

o

.

watch

.

t

h

e

.

starlight

die . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ than

stay

behind

.

t

o

.

watch

.

t

h

e

.

starlight

die . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

rather

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

rather

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

rather

leave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

while

.

t

h

e

.

want

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ while

.

t

h

e

.

want

.

s

t

i

l

l

.

burns

.

within

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I hope you had

a wonderful time . . .

–

–

I hope you had

the time of your life . . .

–

–

I hope you had

a wonderful time . . .

–

–

I hope you had

the time of your life.

Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in July of 2002 in reflection of a brief, but powerful romantic experiences I had back when I was very young and awkward. People so greatly and easily moved and inspired me back then.

I

.

kneeled

.

t

o

.

you,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

your

delusions

.

o

f

.

sex,

–

–

paranoia,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

confusion . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

e

t

–

–

–

still,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

infect

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

infect

.

m

e

.

with

.

y

o

u

r

.

tease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

infect

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

infect

.

m

e

.

with

.

y

o

u

r

.

greed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

infect

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

bleed

.

m

y

.

self-esteem,

–

–

until

nothing

.

b

u

t

.

you

remains

.

o

f

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

can’t

restrain

.

t

h

e

.

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

can’t

control

.

t

h

e

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

can’t

restrain

.

t

h

e

.

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

can’t

control

.

t

h

e

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

can’t

restrain

.

t

h

e

.

urge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

can’t

control

.

t

h

e

.

burn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

you

always

.

promise

more,

.

.

t

h

a

n

.

.

you

did

.

t

h

e

.

time

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

always

.

promise

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

always

.

promise

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

always

.

promise

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

days

later

.

nothing

new

.

i

s

.

secured . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

leaving

.

m

e

.

crushed

.

a

n

d

.

crumpled

.

o

n

.

the

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

leave

.

m

e

.

crushed

.

a

n

d

.

crumpled

.

o

n

.

the

floor . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Crystal,

.

please

.

d

o

.

not

let

.

t

h

e

.

days

.

g

o

.

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

every

time

.

y

o

u

.

come

around,

.

.

m

y

.

.

good

intentions

.

s

p

i

n

.

’round

.

a

n

d

.

’round,

–

–

and

.

.

f

a

l

l

.

.

up

.

a

n

d

.

down . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

.

s

p

i

n

.

’round

.

a

n

d

.

’round,

–

–

and

.

.

f

a

l

l

.

.

up

.

a

n

d

.

down . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

you

hold

.

m

e

.

hostage,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

race

.

m

y

.

time

.

b

y

.

leaps

.

a

n

d

.

bounds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Hour,

–

–

after

hour,

–

–

after

hour . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

underground . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Hour,

–

–

after

hour,

–

–

after

hour . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spellbound . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

although

.

I

.

never

.

s

e

e

.

them,

.

.

I

.

.

always

hear

.

t

h

e

.

sound . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

always

hear

.

t

h

e

.

sound . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

always

hear

.

t

h

e

.

sound . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

always

hear

.

t

h

e

.

sound . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

maneuvers

.

o

n

.

the

ground . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ maneuvers

.

o

n

.

the

ground . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

ever

seeking

.

t

o

.

surround.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in May of 2002 where the affected party becomes consumed by an addiction he or she just cannot resist or overcome – and wakes repeatedly to chaos, darkness, confusion, and clutter. It becomes a lifelong struggle – and it seems the affected party will never be able to escape the forces of temptation, addiction, and compulsion. The struggle can represent any form of temptation, addiction, or compulsion: drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, obsessions, etc.