So Close Yet So Far Away

So sad to be so close yet so far away, only one phone call

And we had to say goodbye, then cry, then again to fall

While still uncertain who would bring the curtain down

To cause another frown on my face at your unsure pace

In leaving with an intention of staying gone long enough

But now what are we to do when too few days remain

And the rain keeps falling and washing away my hoping

And my longing to belong to you yet again even in sin

Because you just mean that much to me ever to be free

But you simply will not pick up the phone to call home

And so I’m alone and weary, so close yet so far away

To Finally Be Free

One day, some day, I will fly away and be free,

But for now show me mercy and just let me be,

For if I shed a tear for every sin that I’ve sinned

There would be no hope for me to begin again

Ah, but you pretend but you’re not perfect either,

Your values change with the changing weather,

So when the wind blows south you’re quite nasty

And when this wind blows north, you’re feisty,

And it’s all a glorious game that everyone plays,

Even me, while looking forward to being free,

But for now, would you please just let me be!

In the Shades of Shadow Trees

Shadows passing shadows in the shades of shadow trees,
And life is like a vapor, a mostly ghostly shadow show,
And again does the church bell toll for yet another soul
That never really lived but finally died in vacuous pride
After casting aside hope for meaning to reside in shades
That weighed nothing because he was afraid of solidity,
Choosing instead a sickly flaccidity with heart cupidity,
And now the gray coffin is lowered into the black earth,
To the very place that will give rest to all of his worth,
Accumulated from cradle to the grave for such a knave;
But are we any different in our deference to existence?
No, we should know we’ll need some savior some day.

Time: Friend or Foe? (Free Verse)

Sometimes time seems to fly by so very quickly,
And you wonder where the moments have gone
And what you have really done
Since you last looked at a clock;
And it stuns you to realize how the minutes pass
Without your capturing them to do something . . .
Yet time can seem so slow when you are working;
You wonder if the minutes have turned to hours –
‘Tempus fugit’ is not always the case in this life –
But when time does fly by you often want to stop
And rewind the clock to retake those lost minutes
But you cannot . . . You can only move forward . . .
Ever forward with time, whether so fast (or slow)
Time: Do you have her, or does she have you???

If Hatred Is All That Unifies You

If hatred is all that unifies you, then you will always have to hate to be unified;
Is this the kind of unity you desire? Unity completely devoid of love and peace?
And what happens when the object of your hatred changes or simply vanishes?
If hatred is all that’s unified you, you’ll have to find something else to hate,
Or what is worse, someone else to hate with no room left for true compassion,
No room for understanding, for bridge-building, for reasonable compromise . . .
Is this kind of unity an healthy unity? Unity centered upon feelings of hostility?

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years upon years,
And now my life is filled with too many decades of time with too few left to me
To live in hatred and animosity, fear, paranoia, enmity, rancor and bitterness;
And this man is too old and tired to spend his precious time with those who do!
Even my ears grow weary of hearing the poison spewing out from such people!
Light, life ‘n love stand above all and are more than enough to take all my time,
So too there is truth ~ yes ~ but my choice is to stand upon truth in true peace.

In the Unfolding Day Along the Way

What is this that I wake up crying
Trying to lie to myself that it was just a dream
When I can’t even remember the theme
Or even if I did dream, though it seems I did,
But I crawl out of bed ready to scrawl
On the walls but I fall to the floor without words,
Hearing birds chirping outside beside my window,
Which is only a show of other life happy,
And I wonder why I can’t be more snappy
And sing, too . . . If only the birds would bring
Inside my soul their song
But they throng outside all to themselves,
Or have they brought me a song already,
So I have what I’ve sought all my life
Never knowing it was blowing so near and dear?
But will I go through the day this way?
I know I may stay somber in this same location
With my same vocation,
But at least I find some relief in the belief
That I’m doing something good and productive,
Something even seductive to my artisan soul!
I may bite my pen for awhile in tears
But eventually I will write
In sight of the whole world . . .
If anyone cares to read, and maybe my words
Will then have planted some seed worth growing
In the hole of someone’s soul . . .
I may not be able to save myself
But I can behave as if I’m saving another,
Though all I may be doing is raving like a lunatic!

Note: This is the third (or fourth) of my stream-of-consciousness poem