Sitting in this silence passing;
The time until you return.
Down the long path watching,
The way you might take home.
I dwell upon this certain fate:
The rest of my life with you.
And for this I cannot wait,
Hurry home my beautiful,
Make this dream come true.
I wrote this one back when my wife and I were just engaged. It seems so long ago. 🙂
Posted in Love
Tagged dream, love, poetry, wait
Day to day
Always the same way.
But good enough is enough.
I’m able to call a bluff,
And we’ll awake,
To sometimes take,
More than what the day has to offer.
Us, a break is not for.
In spite of all this,
We’re still in bliss.
Though it’s too little too late;
To be tempting fate.
We still end up treading water,
Free from greeds’ tempting offer
This poem emphasizes the importance of being satisfied with what you have. When material gain is all we are living for, we often isolate ourselves from the ones we love, even if it is under the guise of “I’m doing it for my family” in truth it most often is just for ourselves. If we are living for just more wealth, greed will blind us to the true riches we already have in our lives: family, friends, love, and real happiness. For the poorest man may have all of these and be richer than he who owns the world.
We hopeful machines
This world and that,
The present and the past.
Never knowing where to turn,
Wondering why we burn
In our own destruction.
Without direction we die,
So why even try?
I cannot speak for you. Me?
I shall simply be,
I’ll take the one path I know.
There I’ll find my own way so,
I’ll more than hope for another day,
To others I’ll show the same way.
With the surface so far away,
So close to the light of day.
This ocean floor feels more like home,
Each and every day.
These things I hold,
Will sink with me.
Me and my sins in this dark sea,
Remaining in the shadows, in the deep.
There will be a day when there’s no more sea,
But I do not worry,
Because then, there will be no more me.
One can only hope to find
That one small corner of the mind
To forever sleep in and unwind
From the days that are unkind.
Looking out through these eyes;
The windows of the soul, I find.
I see that place, my long lost home,
But not long lost, it remains my own.
Many hours away have taken toll.
Now I’ve found this dark corners trace,
I wish that I could forget this place.
But I know that is not the case,
So I must remember the reason I smile: her face.
The gilded murder of innocence.
Those watching pretend to not see.
Among them we,
Fervently wish for this wrath not to fall on us.
The deathly poets tell our children a story,
Of how we saw and did not,
How our very souls did rot,
When we traded them for security, illusionary.
Platinum for rust, and a diamond for black coal,
It was said we should’ve kept the gold dust.
This trade was foul, now we must
Find a way to reclaim our heart and souls.
Then our children say:
“This gilded murder of innocence shan’t be overlooked!
Never by your corrupted bribes were we took.”
Our children should not be the ones who must pay.
This one is about corruption in governments in general not just in the U.S., how we trade freedom for security just to feel “safe”, how the things we allow our government to do are also our responsibility if we sit by and do nothing about them. Hopefully our children will grow to be wiser than we have been.
They bury me in marble,
They bury me in gold.
On a pillow, they say,
I’ll rest my soul,
But no matter rich or poor,
Whether dead in a ditch,
Or behind a golden door;
The gold or the marble,
Will let my body rest,
But no earthly bauble
Will contain my soul. At best,
It will make my rotting corpse more pretty,
For those who ask: “He lived a full life, did he?”