English Poems
“Tend Your Store”
“Tend Your Store”
It was Thursday morning. I had come back for more. I remembered your neatly kept store, for I had been here before. Hurriedly, I crossed the street and approached your front door. Was I an eyesore? Did you anticipate a holy war? Would you have waited if I was a high-class sexy whore?
We crossed paths and without hesitation, you slowly walked next door. Expecting your prompt return, I walked inside and asked myself, “Is this the way you tend your store?”. Why have I returned? Why would I want more?
You talked about life and offered advice. I heard the same question, for you asked him twice. You questioned his reasons for becoming sober. Who will heal your soul, when your life is over? Slightly annoyed, he turned towards your store. He took a deep breath and then looked me over. I could not help wonder, “Will your words he ignore?”. You are teaching how, by ignoring your store.
Patience is my virtue, so I waited for you. After ten minutes, you continued your speech. My presence was strong but your attention was beyond my reach. Does this happen often? Perhaps you are blessed. Just like your store, you were well dressed. Perhaps your life’s goal is to offer advice, to those who will listen, without thinking twice.
Is your cause worth fighting for? Is it worth losing your store? If the answer is yes, then keep fighting on! If I one day come back and I’m looking for more, perhaps I will find a dusty locked door.
“Tell Me”
“Tell Me”
Tell me. I’ll listen. I may not care, but I will listen. Tell me. I may not have solutions but if you like, I can offer opinions. Either way, if you tell me, I will listen.
What’s on your mind? Tell me your thoughts. Express your fears. I have the time, the patience and two healthy ears. Tell me. I’m here. It’s late in October and Halloween will soon come only to quickly disappear, but God willing, for you, I will continue to be here.
Is it the bogeyman you fear? Do you always feel him near? Is he of flesh and blood or does he roam around between your ears? Tell me. I want to hear, for I too have had my own fears.
Nothing to say? Okay. Have it your way. Since you chose not to speak, to give you a glimpse of what I see, I will give you a sneak peek. Frustration, pain, and confusion are exuding your pores, while anger and fear are holding on tight until you put them in gear.
The gun you are holding, more than once, has caressed your left and right ear. You’ve tasted its barrel. You appear to have a low regard for life, for you always put yours in peril. How do I know this? That answer comes with a twist. I am you. Your inner child with an adult voice. Yes. That voice. When fighting your demons, in your head, I make the most noise. Why then do you choose to ignore me? Tell me. I’m here. I’m always here.
Is that the bogeyman I hear? Mine lies in your head. Yes, the same one that says you are better off dead. It constantly yells in my ear. It intends to feed me his shit and fill my being with fear. At times, I feel your frustration, pain, and confusion. Watching you suffer throughout the years, with the support of people who listened, I have learned to build faith. Where there is faith, there is no room for fear.
Tell me. I’ll listen. For you, against your demons, I will continue to fight. If you give me a chance and you choose to listen, in your darkest hours, my noise will convert into light, which will guide you through life and prepare you for even the toughest fight.
Please put the gun down and tell me you will listen.
“Slices of Life”
“Slices of Life”
Slices of Life. We all have them. For you, your largest and perhaps the most important one is when you married your significant other and brought him into your life. For him, it could be the day he divorced his fourth wife to pursue your affection. Perhaps an even stronger slice is the day he abandoned the life he forgot to mention.
Slices of life. Not immediately evident to you at the time, your birth became your first slice of life. At birth, fortunate children are welcomed by their father and his happy wife. To them, although not their first, this too is a momentous slice of life.
Against all odds, ‘John Doe’ babies who would otherwise only collect a few hours’ worth of slices, are given a great chance at life by our doctors and their modern devices. They did not perish. Instead, this incredible slice of life, with their foster parents, they will one day cherish.
Without having carved out their own significant slices and unprepared for a meaningful emotional connection, many young adults engage in meaningless, unprotected sex, which too often, to this world, brings a new life. A life that one day, when seeking more affection, they too might forget to mention.
Slices of life. We all have them. Some we want to forget and some we want to relive. To once again hit that home run… oh, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t give. While slices of life cannot be taken away, our choices in life can prevent us from ever feeling the same way. For some, this may sound comedic. It won’t to a once healthy athlete who turned to drugs and is now a quadriplegic.
Slices of life. To cut them, you don’t need a knife. You only need to be present, for you only have one life. Without an incision, no matter how grand your collection, if it selects you, Alzheimer’s will slowly cut these from your life. Has this thought crossed your mind? Are you scared? Don’t be. Instead, be prepared. Your faith will trump your fears. Carve out your own slices. Start now and continue through the rest of your years. Enjoy each moment while you live a meaningful life.
Slices of life.
“No Time for That”
“No Time For That”
As I lay here, full of anguish and pain, I think of all I have done, solely for my personal gain.
I think of my mother, who has her own pain. At times I do wonder, if visiting me, increases her pain, or perhaps brings her fear. One thing I know, I wish she were here. Sitting beside me, sharing her pain and expressing her fear.
My mind and body, are awakened by pain. Trying to sleep, I start counting sheep. Wanting to weep, but unwilling to cry, more times than not, I wish I would die.
My flesh wounds are deep. My emotional ones are deeper. Many nights have passed, when I see the Grim Reaper. No time for that. No time for that.
My existence is real, and I am here for a reason. I fight every day, and like a good soldier, I don’t commit treason. I ride every day. Time after time, beaten and bruised, I am dethroned from my saddle. Day after day, in this thing called life, I continue to battle.
I appear to be healthy, but I am broken inside. Today was divine, and I did see the sign. For God sent an Angel, to pray by my side. Signs from God have been many, all of which I’ve ignored. No time for that. No time for that.
What other signs will come? Will there even be any? Perhaps at least one? Was my Angel correct? Was this my last one?
As I bathe in my sorrow, I think of tomorrow. What will life hold, should I choose to change? What if I don’t? Will I live from spare change? No time for that. No time for that.
I know it’s not easy but the choice is mine. When I seek God’s help, he sends many signs. He invites me to dinner, and he always serves wine. Once I accept, I know in my heart, that I will be fine.
In silence, I tell myself “Help yourself out. God will be with you, day in and day out.” I will make time for that. I must make time for that.
“There Will Be Tears”
“There Will Be Tears”
Today, after five years, what we had, came to an end as I watched your blue eyes shed two lonely tears.
It was two thirty in the morning. From a local motel to your place, I considered walking. It was not far, but I somehow I arrived in a car. You were asleep so I walked in without knocking.
My presence awoke you. Was it my manly aroma? The mere presence of my persona? Perhaps it was just Kona?
The urge to smoke was strong. The desire for sex was stronger. What could go wrong? Before and after, I smoked a cigarette. Is this something that I will one day regret?
We slept. We cuddled. We woke. As in many past mornings, you offered me coffee. I walked you to work. Unlike the day in Kona, when I proposed, our time together was rushed and not exactly right. Was I walking away from our future, which at one point we imagined as happy and bright? The morning was cloudy and the ground was wet. Something I noticed as I hugged you goodbye and our bodies met.
I’m already missing you, the clean crisp air and the Oregon rain. Has my excitement to leave numbed my pain? While in LA, what will I experience? Perhaps a new girlfriend, smog or toxic rain? Only time will tell. Once I am there, if I don’t like my job or my boss, I can always send them to hell.
“I Wish I Knew”
“I Wish I Knew”
The reasons for your departure escape me. The thought of finding out frightens me.
The idea of your return, while sporadic and unrealistic, warms my heart, gives me strength and keeps me from falling apart. For I know, that in this world, I will one day play your part.
As I look at your photo, I see my reflection. Without direction, my heart races and like a snare drum, beats rapidly, sending through my apparent fearless being, a fiery rush of fear, the same feeling I felt, every time you were near.
My time has come and my cue is near. On this day, as I prepare to walk, my excitement has finally conquered my fear. My heart, fearlessly beating, guides me up the steps, that thanks to you, were once my greatest fear.
As I ‘walk the walk’, I look at the ocean of proud beings, all while wishing you were here. Best of all, I do this without a single thought of fear.
I wish I knew.
“I Belong”
“I Belong”
My travels, often long but few,
Continually keep me on the front lines,
Far and away from you.
Blessed to have you,
I pray for your well being,
And for my safe return,
For on this soil, by your side,
Forever I belong.
Seconds before your last kiss,
And just before my departure,
I close my eyes and in my mind,
Under the dim lights, the bright sun,
Or the clear moonlight,
Your last pose I capture.
When we are apart,
You are closer to my heart.
As I leave our nest,
I begin my quest, to on command,
Relive the moment when I captured your last pose.
For in your absence, frozen in time,
This moment feeds my heart,
Which forever holds you close.
The thought of leaving you is frightening.
The possibility of never returning
Is as real as all the stars lighting my nights,
When they are brightly shining.
While I am away, my mission is to survive,
And to protect my countrymen,
Even if I will never again be seen alive.
When I am at home, with you,
My mission is to be the best husband I can be.
To make you happy, make you feel safe,
And bring you smiles, all while wishing for the day,
When I never again have to traverse those immense oceans,
Or walk those long miles.
My journeys without you,
Although bearable,
Are always grueling and long.
As I move from port to port,
Your unconditional love,
Understanding and support,
Are my pillars and my strength,
To keep moving forward,
To protect my country,
For in it, and next to you,
Forever I belong.
“Is It Me?”
“Is It Me?”
Is it me? Am I just imagining all these things that I see? Are all the bank tellers really angry at me? They don’t know my name. I bring them my money and that’s all that they see. Expressing no hurry and much discontent, the post office workers, as they work the long line, go on with their day as if their shipping method was the only way.
Is it me or has the world grown cold? Perhaps I am senile and just getting old. The human connection is obviously lacking. As I check out of my local corner store, the effect of the self-check-out stand is something I refuse to ignore.
It is me? Have our lives gone numb? Sadly, asking genuine and humanizing questions is something many view as weird and often dumb. “Have a great day!” is something almost all of us say. Adding one word to this otherwise generic phrase has the power to positively impact someone’s day. You humanize the moment even as they are walking away. “Have a great day Bob. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
I’m not a very good swimmer but I refuse to drown in this ever growing pool of dehumanization. What path are we on? Is it the right one? If you see what I see, I invite you to swim. Add a word. Share your love. Give a smile. Lend a hand. Start small or if you like, start a movement that will once again humanize and connect this great nation.
If you see what I see, then perhaps it’s not me.
Done?
Are you done? What’s taking so long? Is this one of those projects that you will forever prolong?
How many of those projects do you own? Have you noticed that your kids have grown? Your projects will forever be with you but your kids will soon be out on their own.
Will you notice when their wings spread or will your projects be the only things that roam around in your head?
They are ready. No, not your projects. Your kids have spread their wings and will soon fly out on their own.
Are you done yet?