How

many

times

–

–

will

you

–

–

believe

it’s

true . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it’s

.

n

o

.

surprise

–

–

that

you

–

–

accent

every

view

.

a

n

d

.

consume

every

room . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it’s

.

n

o

.

surprise

–

–

that

your

arrogance

–

–

adores

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ No,

it’s

.

n

o

.

surprise

–

–

that

your

arrogance

–

–

adores

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

through,

.

a

n

d

.

through,

.

a

n

d

.

through,

.

a

n

d

.

through,

.

a

n

d

.

through . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

how

many

times

–

–

will

you

–

–

believe

it’s

true . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

many

times

–

–

will

you

–

–

believe

it’s

true . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

How

many

times

–

–

will

you

–

–

believe

it’s

true . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it’s

.

n

o

.

surprise

–

–

that

you

–

–

accent

every

view

.

a

n

d

.

consume

every

room . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it’s

.

n

o

.

surprise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ No,

it’s

.

n

o

.

surprise…

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

your

arrogance

–

–

adores

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ Yes,

your

arrogance

–

–

adores

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

all

the

way

.

d

o

w

n

.

to

your

shoes.

Reflection: The line “your arrogance adores you” came to mind and the rest of the poem quickly wrote itself. I’ve seen several people in my life who fit the description in this poem – I’m sure many people have.

You

used

.

t

o

.

be

.

t

h

e

.

glossy,

–

–

glamour

magazine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

used

.

t

o

.

believe

.

y

o

u

.

had

.

t

o

.

change

everything . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

used

.

t

o

.

believe

.

y

o

u

.

had

.

t

o

.

change

everything . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

.

y

o

u

.

could

.

n

o

t

.

perceive

.

t

h

e

.

beauty . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

could

.

n

o

t

.

perceive

.

t

h

e

.

beauty,

.

.

s

o

.

.

obvious

.

t

o

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

obvious

.

t

o

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

even

though

.

I

.

told

.

y

o

u

.

that

.

y

o

u

.

could

.

b

e

.

anyone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

.

y

o

u

.

could

.

b

e

.

anything . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

smiled

.

a

n

d

.

laughed,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

tossed

.

y

o

u

r

.

head

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

saying

.

i

f

.

you

.

could

.

n

o

t

.

achieve

.

t

h

e

.

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ if

you

–

–

could

.

n

o

t

.

live

.

t

h

a

t

.

life

.

o

f

.

peaceful

ease

.

a

n

d

.

prosperity . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

e

n

–

–

–

please,

–

–

make

.

i

t

.

easy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ please,

.

j

u

s

t

.

make

.

i

t

.

easy,

.

.

y

o

u

.

.

said

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile

.

a

n

d

.

a

laugh . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

said

.

i

t

.

with

.

a

smile

.

a

n

d

.

a

laugh,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

tossed

.

y

o

u

r

.

head

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

that

was

.

i

n

.

the

past . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

that

.

w

a

s

.

in

.

t

h

e

.

past . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

now,

–

–

there

.

i

s

.

nothing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Now,

–

–

there

.

i

s

.

nothing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Now,

–

–

there

.

i

s

.

nothing . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

haunting:

–

–

–

.

.

.

“Achieve

.

t

h

e

.

dream,

.

.

o

r

.

.

just

.

make

.

i

t

.

easy . . .”

–

–

–

.

.

.

“Achieve

.

t

h

e

.

dream,

.

.

o

r

.

.

just

.

make

.

i

t

.

easy . . .”

–

–

–

.

.

.

“Achieve

.

t

h

e

.

dream,

.

.

o

r

.

.

just

.

make

.

i

t

.

easy . . .”

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

it’s

.

n

o

t

.

easy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

it’s

.

n

o

t

.

easy,

–

–

sleeping

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

memory . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ sleeping

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

memory

.

o

f

.

how

things

.

used

.

t

o

.

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ of

.

h

o

w

.

things

used

.

t

o

.

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

.

y

o

u

.

made

.

i

t

.

easy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

.

y

o

u

.

made

.

i

t

.

easy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

.

y

o

u

.

made

.

i

t

.

easy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

.

it’s

.

n

o

t

.

easy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

it’s

.

n

o

t

.

easy,

–

–

here

.

f

o

r

.

me.

Reflection: This was a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote back in May of 2021. This was written in reflection of those heartbreaking, hopeless souls who can never seem to maintain a positive perspective or rise above the lows – no matter how hard you try to help them. I used the song “Creature Comfort” by Arcade Fire to play in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

It

seemed

.

t

o

.

be

a

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

we

.

w

e

r

e

.

dancing

carelessly

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

candied

–

–

apple

streets . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

.

w

e

r

e

.

dancing

carelessly

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

candied

–

–

apple

streets

.

o

f

.

never

ending

reverie

.

a

n

d

.

possibility . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it

was

.

t

h

e

.

seeming

eternity . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

seeming

eternity

.

o

f

.

spring . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

was

.

t

h

e

.

seeming

eternity

.

o

f

.

spring . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

w

e

.

entered

.

t

h

a

t

.

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dancing

carelessly

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

candied

–

–

apple

streets . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

happy,

–

–

adventurous,

.

a

n

d

.

free . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ we

.

w

e

r

e

.

happy,

–

–

adventurous,

.

a

n

d

.

free . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

thinking

this

.

w

a

s

.

the

.

w

a

y

.

things

would

–

–

always

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

.

w

a

y

.

things

would

–

–

always

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

passionate

kiss . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Another

feeling

.

o

f

.

bliss . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

then

another . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

e

v

e

r

y

.

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

e

v

e

r

y

.

week . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

i

n

.

a

cafe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

o

n

.

the

street . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

w

i

t

h

.

anxiety . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

w

i

t

h

.

ease . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

t

o

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

it

could

–

–

happen

.

t

o

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

only

because . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ because

only

.

i

t

.

seemed

–

–

this

was

.

t

h

e

.

way

–

–

things

would

–

–

always

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ this

was

.

t

h

e

.

way

–

–

things

would

–

–

always

be . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

when

you

.

a

r

e

.

young . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

believe

.

i

t

.

just

–

–

goes

on

.

a

n

d

.

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

believe

.

i

t

.

just

–

–

goes

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

just

–

–

goes

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

.

y

o

u

.

realize

–

–

you’ve

reached

.

t

h

e

.

end

.

o

f

.

that

song . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

have

only

–

–

danced

’til

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

.

h

a

v

e

.

only

–

–

danced

’til

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

realize

–

–

there’s

.

s

o

.

many

more

–

–

miles

ahead

.

t

h

a

n

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there’s

.

s

o

.

many

more

–

–

miles

ahead

.

t

h

a

n

.

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

miles

–

–

get

longer

.

w

i

t

h

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ yes,

.

t

h

e

.

miles

–

–

get

longer

.

w

i

t

h

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

you

have

only

–

–

danced

’til

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

those

–

–

magical

moments,

–

–

now

.

a

r

e

.

gone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ yes,

all

.

o

f

.

those

–

–

magical

moments,

–

–

now

.

a

r

e

.

gone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

I

miss

.

t

h

a

t

.

dance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

dawn . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

miss

.

t

h

a

t

.

song . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ I

miss

.

t

h

a

t

.

song

.

t

h

a

t

.

went

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

on . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

seemed

.

t

o

.

be

a

dream . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

we

.

w

e

r

e

.

dancing

carelessly

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

candied

–

–

apple

streets . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

  ~ we

.

w

e

r

e

.

dancing

carelessly

.

d

o

w

n

.

those

candied

–

–

apple

streets

.

i

n

.

the

seeming

eternity . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ the

seeming

eternity

.

o

f

.

spring.

Reflection:  

This poem was inspired by the movie “Before Sunset” (a sequel to “After Sunrise”) and largely reflects the romantic ease frequently experienced in the days of youth – something which starts to get more difficult and far less frequent as we age. We could be awkward and make so many blunders in our days of youth and quickly recover from those, but we tend to become less forgiving with others (and ourselves) as time marches on. I have many fond memories of those early, adventurous days of my life.

I used to song “Good Love” by Zola Blood to play repeatedly in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

I

sometimes

–

–

hold

you

.

i

n

.

my

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

smile,

–

–

when

I

look

–

–

into

your

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

smile

–

–

when

I

look

–

–

into

your

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

fantasize

about

–

t

h

e

–

kind

–

o

f

–

life

–

–

that

together

–

w

e

–

might

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ the

kind

–

o

f

–

life

–

–

that

together

–

w

e

–

might

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

otherwise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

in

.

m

y

.

life,

.

.

I

.

a

m

.

tightly

tied,

–

a

n

d

–

timed,

–

a

n

d

–

tried . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

.

a

m

.

tightly

tied,

–

a

n

d

–

timed,

–

a

n

d

–

tried . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

much

–

o

f

–

the

time

.

in

.

m

y

.

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

when

–

t

h

e

–

hours

–

o

f

–

daytime

–

–

conspire

–

a

n

d

–

collide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

all

–

o

f

–

my

twisted

–

a

n

d

–

troubled

times

–

–

align . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

it

.

i

s

.

hard

–

t

o

–

realize

–

–

how

many

weeks,

–

a

n

d

–

months,

–

a

n

d

–

years

–

–

go

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

.

i

s

.

hard

–

t

o

–

realize

–

–

how

many

weeks,

–

a

n

d

–

months,

–

a

n

d

–

years

–

–

go

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

in

.

m

y

.

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

it’s

nice

–

t

o

–

know

–

–

I

can

almost

–

–

feel

just

fine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

I

invite

–

y

o

u

–

into

–

t

h

e

–

warming

welcome

–

o

f

–

my

mind

–

a

n

d

–

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

thinking

about

–

t

h

e

–

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

smile

–

a

n

d

–

think

about

–

t

h

e

–

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ the

next

time

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

almost

see

–

t

h

e

–

wave,

–

–

upon

wave,

–

–

upon

wave . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

f

–

–

–

want

–

a

n

d

–

wonder

–

i

n

–

your

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ the

next

time

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

almost

taste

–

–

that

warm

–

b

u

t

–

wistful

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

beneath

–

t

h

e

–

shimmering

skies

–

o

f

–

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ the

next

time

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

almost

hear

–

y

o

u

–

sigh . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ your

breath

–

–

next

–

t

o

–

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ your

breath

–

–

next

–

t

o

–

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

y

–

–

–

the

seaside . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

candlelight

dims . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

dallies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

dies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ the

next

time

.

I

.

w

i

l

l

.

ride

–

t

h

a

t

–

almost

tide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wild

–

a

n

d

–

alive,

–

–

tossing

–

a

n

d

–

turning,

–

a

l

l

–

hours

–

o

f

–

the

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

I

arrive

–

a

t

–

the

shores

–

o

f

–

daytime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ until

I

arrive

–

a

t

–

the

shores

–

o

f

–

daytime . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

next

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

sometimes

–

–

hold

you

–

i

n

–

my

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

sometimes

–

–

hold

you

–

i

n

–

my

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

sometimes

–

–

hold

you

–

i

n

–

my

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

fantasize

–

–

about

–

t

h

e

–

kind

–

o

f

–

life

–

–

that

together

–

w

e

–

might

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

.

a

n

d

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

fantasize

–

–

about

–

t

h

e

–

kind

–

o

f

–

life

–

–

that

together

–

w

e

–

might

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

otherwise.

Reflection:  This poem is a reflection on those special people you come into contact with that you greatly love and appreciate, and wish you could be with them – but for some reason you just can’t. I’ve had quite a few experiences in my life like that and I’m sure many of you have as well. On the one hand, it’s sad that you can’t be with them but – on the other hand – you can feel content in knowing you were at least able to have that experience for whatever it was.

Are

.

y

o

u

.

going

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Are

.

y

o

u

.

going

away

–

–

again

today . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it

seems

–

–

such

a

heavy

–

–

weight

.

t

o

.

sustain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

brutal,

–

–

binding

–

–

ball

.

a

n

d

.

chain,

.

t

o

.

drag

.

d

o

w

n

.

such

narrow

lanes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

drag

.

d

o

w

n

.

such

narrow

lanes

.

o

f

.

rage,

.

a

n

d

.

pain,

.

a

n

d

.

change,

–

–

where

.

y

o

u

.

feel

.

t

h

e

.

need

.

t

o

.

run

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ where

.

y

o

u

.

feel

.

t

h

e

.

need

.

t

o

.

run

away,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

find

a

way

.

t

o

.

escape

–

–

that

ghastly,

–

–

gray

parade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

ghastly,

–

–

gray

parade

.

o

f

.

blame,

.

a

n

d

.

shame,

.

a

n

d

.

everything

.

t

h

a

t

.

remains

.

i

n

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

everything

.

t

h

a

t

.

remains

.

i

n

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

happens

–

–

every

day . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

happens

–

–

every

day

–

–

when

.

t

h

e

.

mood

.

i

s

.

gray . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

again

today,

–

–

I

.

c

a

n

.

hear

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

engines

.

o

f

.

escape,

–

–

begin

.

t

o

.

burn

.

a

n

d

.

blaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

burn

.

a

n

d

.

blaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

burn

.

a

n

d

.

blaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

burn

.

a

n

d

.

blaze . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

race

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

runway . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ they

race

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

runway . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

furious

pursuit

.

o

f

.

better

days

.

a

n

d

.

faraways . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

furious

pursuit

.

o

f

.

better

days

.

a

n

d

.

faraways,

–

–

deep

.

i

n

.

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ deep

.

i

n

.

the

shade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

without

a

name.

Reflection: This was a reflective-themed poem I wrote. The opening lines came to me while sitting on my balcony relaxing. This poem is really about the many methods and ways people frequently use to escape their present life circumstances.

I refined this poem using the song “Came Here to Forget” by Blake Shelton playing in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for this 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.

I

saw

–

t

h

e

–

smile

–

–

behind

those

eyes

–

–

a

n

d

–

–

the

starshine

–

–

beyond

–

t

h

a

t

–

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

saw

–

–

the

starshine

–

–

beyond

–

t

h

a

t

–

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

should

–

h

a

v

e

–

tried

–

–

o

r

–

–

at

least

–

s

a

i

d

–

“hi” . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

should

–

h

a

v

e

–

tried

–

–

o

r

–

–

at

least

–

s

a

i

d

–

“hi”

–

–

o

r

–

–

even

waited

awhile

–

–

until

–

t

h

e

–

time

–

–

felt

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

should

have

–

–

waited

awhile

–

–

until

–

t

h

e

–

time

–

–

felt

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

it’s

always

better

–

t

o

–

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

it’s

better

–

t

o

–

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

than

to

–

b

e

–

haunted

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it’s

better

–

t

o

–

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it’s

better

–

t

o

–

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

than

to

–

b

e

–

haunted

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

hours

–

o

f

–

wine

become

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

hours

–

o

f

–

wine

become

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you’re

–

w

i

t

h

–

me

–

–

all

–

t

h

e

–

time.

Reflection: The opening lines came to me while listening to a country song and it pretty much wrote itself within minutes. I later refined it using the song “Somewhere With You” by Kenny Chesney playing in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” while refining this poem. The song really seemed to fit. So, if you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Yesterday,

I

knew

.

t

h

e

.

way . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Yesterday,

I

lived

.

a

t

.

such

a

pace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

even

–

–

average,

–

–

ordinary

.

d

a

y

s

.

smiled,

.

a

n

d

.

gave

a

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

smiled

.

a

n

d

.

gave

a

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

embrace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Yesterday,

I

.

h

a

d

.

a

face . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Yesterday,

I

.

h

a

d

.

a

name . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Yesterday,

I

.

h

a

d

.

a

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

.

h

a

d

.

a

face . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

h

a

d

.

a

name . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

.

h

a

d

.

a

place

.

i

n

.

yesterday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

I

sailed

–

–

those

raceways

.

a

n

d

.

runaways

.

i

n

t

o

.

getaway

grays

.

a

n

d

.

alleyway

shades . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

sailed

–

–

those

raceways

–

a

n

d

–

runaways

.

i

n

t

o

.

getaway

grays

.

a

n

d

.

alleyway

shades . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

way

b

a

c

k

.

when . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

I

thought

.

.

I

.

w

a

s

.

only

–

–

changing

lanes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

thought

–

–

I

.

w

a

s

.

only

–

–

changing

lanes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

then

–

–

everything

changed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

–

–

everything

changed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now,

–

–

those

always

.

a

n

d

.

forever

–

–

endless,

–

–

summer

days

.

o

f

.

ravishing

rays

.

a

n

d

,

glimmering

grace

–

–

have

.

a

l

l

.

been

–

–

erased

.

a

n

d

.

replaced . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

have

.

a

l

l

.

been

–

–

erased

.

a

n

d

.

replaced,

.

b

y

.

pain,

.

a

n

d

.

rage,

.

a

n

d

.

blame,

.

a

n

d

.

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

have

.

a

l

l

.

been

–

–

erased

.

a

n

d

.

replaced

.

b

y

.

pain,

.

a

n

d

.

rage,

.

a

n

d

.

blame,

.

a

n

d

.

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

nothing

.

f

r

o

m

.

those

.

d

a

y

s

.

remain . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

nothing

–

–

still

remains

.

f

r

o

m

.

those

days

.

o

f

.

young

.

a

n

d

.

tender

age

.

a

n

d

.

grace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

nothing

–

–

still

remains . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ no,

nothing

–

–

still

remains . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

nothing

seems

.

t

h

e

.

same . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

today.

Reflection: This was a popular personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in March of 2021 where the affected party looks back on a simple, wonderful life he or she might have had in the past but strayed far away from that by going down the wrong path for many, many years to the point there was no way to get to get back to that. So, it only lives in taunting, haunting memory.

I used the song “Wild Time (Rough Trade Session)” by Weyes Blood playing in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for this poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

s

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

.

y

o

u

.

will

never

–

–

again

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

never

again

feel

.

t

h

a

t

.

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

glow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

glow

–

–

called

home . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

s

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

where

.

y

o

u

.

can

.

n

o

.

longer

fill

.

t

h

e

.

hole

.

i

n

.

your

soul . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

s

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

go

.

t

o

o

.

far

.

d

o

w

n

.

that

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

although

.

y

o

u

.

try

.

t

o

.

hide

behind

.

a

.

soothing

smile

.

o

f

.

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

.

see

.

i

t

.

in

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ I

.

c

a

n

.

see

.

i

t

.

in

.

y

o

u

r

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

the

starshine

.

h

a

s

.

died . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ Yes,

.

t

h

e

.

starshine

.

h

a

s

.

died

–

–

from

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ from

behind

.

t

h

e

.

days

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

were

wild,

.

a

n

d

.

prized,

.

a

n

d

.

alive

.

w

i

t

h

.

fire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

pumping

.

w

i

t

h

.

pride . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ from

behind

.

t

h

e

.

days,

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

were

delighted

.

b

y

.

desire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

otherwise,

.

f

o

r

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

such

.

a

.

happy,

.

a

n

d

.

kind,

–

–

carefree

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ then,

.

f

o

r

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

you

.

w

e

r

e

.

such

.

a

.

happy,

.

a

n

d

.

kind,

–

–

carefree

guy

–

–

who

smiled . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

laughing

.

a

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

laughing

.

a

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

laughing

.

a

t

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

mile,

–

after

mile,

–

after

mile,

–

after

mile,

–

after

mile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

line,

–

after

line,

–

after

line,

–

after

line,

–

after

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

rolling,

.

a

n

d

.

riding

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ rolling,

.

a

n

d

.

riding

.

t

h

e

.

dice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

flying

high

.

a

n

d

.

flying

blind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wild

.

a

n

d

.

alive

.

w

i

t

h

.

fire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

speeding

.

w

i

t

h

.

desire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

future

–

–

raced

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

future

–

–

raced

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the

future

–

–

raced

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

starshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ it

.

w

a

s

.

spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you

.

a

l

l

.

that

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ spinning

away

.

f

r

o

m

.

you . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

who

.

w

a

s

.

then

.

f

o

r

.

a

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

such

.

a

.

happy,

–

a

n

d

–

kind,

–

–

carefree

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

living

a

life

–

–

still

filled

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

future

–

–

which

could

.

h

a

v

e

.

been

wide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ which

could

.

h

a

v

e

.

been

bright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

now

.

y

o

u

.

ask . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ yes,

now

.

y

o

u

.

ask . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

over

eyes

.

o

f

.

wine,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

line,

–

–

after

line . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

f

–

–

–

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

e

.

same

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ if

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

e

.

same

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

r

o

m

–

–

–

ten

years

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ if

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy

.

w

i

t

h

.

starshine

.

i

n

.

his

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ if

I

still

–

–

see

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy

.

w

i

t

h

.

starshine

.

i

n

.

his

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

I

gazed

.

i

n

t

o

.

the

sky . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

.

y

o

u

.

were

still

.

t

h

e

.

raging

fire

.

o

f

.

delight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

.

y

o

u

.

were

still . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

~ that

.

y

o

u

.

were

still . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

the

guy

.

s

o

.

fine,

.

h

e

.

burned

.

u

p

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

e

r

e

.

still

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

e

r

e

.

still

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

.

w

e

r

e

.

still

.

t

h

a

t

.

guy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

replied

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

smiled

.

i

n

.

my

reply . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

I

lied.

Reflection:  

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

I used to song “Wild Time (Rough Trade Session)” by Weyes Blood to play repeatedly in the background at low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Was

.

i

t

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road

–

–

with

nowhere

–

–

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

was

.

i

t

.

the

brand

–

–

new

start

.

o

f

.

a

future

–

–

that

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ of

some

future

–

–

that

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

raw

undergrowth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

fast

.

a

n

d

.

slow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

highs

.

a

n

d

.

lows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ somewhere

beyond

.

t

h

e

.

valleys

below

–

–

where

.

t

h

e

.

echoes

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ beyond

.

t

h

e

.

valleys

–

–

where

.

t

h

e

.

echoes

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Well,

.

i

t

.

only

depends

.

o

n

.

the

vision

.

y

o

u

.

hold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

only

depends

.

o

n

.

the

seeds

.

y

o

u

.

sew . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

what

.

y

o

u

.

believe

–

–

when

meeting

.

t

h

e

.

unknown . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ what

.

y

o

u

.

believe

–

–

when

meeting

.

t

h

e

.

unknown . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

even

though

–

–

there

.

a

r

e

.

those

–

–

who

will

–

–

say

this

.

i

s

.

this,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

.

i

s

.

so . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ this

.

i

s

.

this,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

that

.

i

s

.

so . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

there’s

.

n

o

.

more

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that

there’s

–

–

nowhere

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there’s

nowhere

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

only

because . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ only

because . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

such

.

i

s

.

what

–

–

they

think

–

–

they

know . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Was

.

i

t

.

the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

end

.

o

f

.

the

road

.

w

i

t

h

.

nowhere

left

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

o

r

–

–

–

was

.

i

t

.

the

brand

–

–

new

start

.

o

f

.

a

future

–

–

that

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Well,

.

i

t

.

only

depends

.

o

n

.

the

vision

.

y

o

u

.

hold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

o

n

l

y

.

depends

.

o

n

.

the

seeds

.

y

o

u

.

sew,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

what

.

y

o

u

.

believe

–

–

when

meeting

.

t

h

e

.

unknown.

Reflection: This was an inspiration/hope-themed poem I wrote back in February of 2021 about how important perceptions and beliefs are with respect to the life one ends up creating and experiencing. I played the song “Wild Time (Rough Trade Session)” by Weyes Blood repeatedly on low volume to create the “moodset” for the poem. If you listen to the song at low volume while reading this poem, you might better get the “feel” of it.

Snow

.

f

a

l

l

s

.

slow

.

upon

.

t

h

e

.

snow,

–

–

upon

.

t

h

e

.

cold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

.

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone,

.

.

o

n

.

.

the

road

.

t

o

.

all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

used

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

used

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

wrapped

.

i

n

.

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

homes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ wrapped

.

i

n

.

warm

.

a

n

d

.

welcome

homes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

which

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

They

glimmered

.

a

n

d

.

glowed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

only

.

h

o

s

t

.

haunting

echoes

.

a

n

d

.

vacant

souls . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

.

n

o

w

.

only

.

h

o

s

t

.

haunting

echoes

.

a

n

d

.

vacant

souls . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

–

–

–

all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

used

.

t

o

.

go . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Snow

.

f

a

l

l

s

.

slow

.

upon

.

t

h

e

.

snow,

–

–

upon

.

t

h

e

.

cold . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

I

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

.

know

.

w

h

a

t

.

it’s

like

.

t

o

.

be

alone,

.

.

o

n

.

.

the

road

.

t

o

.

all

.

o

f

.

those

places

.

w

e

.

use

.

t

o

.

go.

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