Category: Poetry

I let myself go
Embraced the ephemeral
I blinked it was gone

When I was a child
I used to sit in the woods
I fell asleep in a tree
One time more than I probably should’ve
I’d awake slowly
Fifteen feet above the ground
Calm in the breeze
With no one around
My mind at peace
My life calm
Then I’d leave nature
To find everything wrong.

-dm2022-04-30

I need to talk to someone
But I can think of no one to call
I’m not sure I even want to chat
I’d just like to know someone has my back
It’s very lonely in this crowded world
I have so many friends I haven’t seen in years
Would they listen to me discuss my fears
Or are they too caught up in their own woes
Busy, consumed in their lives
To be troubled by my troubles I keep inside
I bet they also need to talk to someone
I’d love to chat unfortunately I don’t have time
To call them back.
-DM 2022-03-09

A rope hung across a great crevasse
The sign read “Caution! No way back.
This path is treacherous.
Not for the weak of heart.”

I naively and boldly ventured onto the rope
The path behind me violently closed
I looked down into the ravine
I grew weak and shaky in the knees

Looking forward I found my balance
I was okay with my life’s new purpose
Put one foot forward and stay on the rope
I picked a path that was no joke

When I look too long behind me
The rope becomes extra shaky
When I look forward to the end
The rope initially stabilizes but shakes again

When I look down at my feet
I see my troubles down below and freeze
I think I can be on this rope no more
I become dizzy and fear a fall

But when I know where I am
And look not behind or down or too far ahead
I glance only slightly presently forward
Knowing it is safe to take that step and more

A calm washes over me
Now I walk steadily
And see the beauty all around
Despite the rope which rocks beneath my feet

From this vantage I see things others will never imagine
Adventures never shared
People would not believe if I dared
Tell the tales that I have known

Amazing sights I’ve seen upon this focused path
Walking dangerously over the crevasse
I’ve grown so much stronger day by day
So much I look forward to the steps I’ll make today

Yet sometimes I wish I could turn back
The start is so far behind me
And I cannot see the end ahead
Sometimes I grow weak and weary

And the rope begins to sway
I gamble a glance toward my feet
And note the tightrope has begun to fray
Will I find my end much sooner as the rope breaks away?

Sometimes the ground quakes and ripples the rope
Occasionally winged creatures try to knock me down
Some days the wind blows hard
Others days bring cold and fog

I’ve stood drenched in rain
I’ve bled on the rope but hid the pain
Snow has turned to ice upon the rope
Every challenge trying to throw me to the depths below

Through luck and stubbornness I’ve survived
And think I’m beginning to see the other side
Could it be I am coming to the end of my path?
Could I be at the end of my rope at last?

What lies ahead on the other side?
Another path? A crossroads?
A sign that says, “Go back, it was lie.”?
Will the ground be solid under my feet?

Will there be people there for me to greet?
Will I lie down and forever sleep?
Or will I find yet another adventure?
What path will I choose?

If I find another rope hung across a great crevasse
With a cautionary sign saying “turn back!”
Will I stay upon solid ground
Or naively and boldly walk the treacherous path I’ve found?

Time is fleeting
In the metaphoric stream of life
Do we fight the current
Or go with the flow
You can push upstream
Or float down
Which way do you go
Depends upon your life goal
Is it the source
Which forces fight to deny You
Or is it the delta
You struggle to steer
So focused on the destination
We fail to see others in the stream
Sharing the same dream
Or are we all lemmings
Walking a path because we are told
At the beginning or perhaps end
Of life’s stream is the goal
The wise will take pause
And stand immobile
To be in the current
Current in the moment
And observe
The shores
The rocks
The fish
The trees
The others
Before we are too old.

There’s a point in the night
A choice to be made
Power through
Or give up the fight

When the time comes
The brain turns foggy
And hides distracting thoughts
Creativity flows

But hesitate
If you slow
The fog turns solid
Hit a wall

Pass out now
Or pass out then
Both a loss
Neither a win

There’s a point in the night
A choice to be made
Sacrifice the wee hours
And give up the day

Whatever decision
The clock ticks
The night comes
You fade away.

I died but I kept on living
To prevent others from suffering my fate.
The chore of living broke my resolve
I bear witness to my mistakes repeated
By those I swore to help.
Lambs to the slaughter
All I can do it watch
For I died but kept on living.
Life without spirit
Is nothing more than death without an end.
Coffins never closed
Bodies never decomposed
Zombies all around
On some grand purposeless walk-about.
From point a to b and back again
Always feeling the same thing.
No spark, no variety, no fire.
Passion gone
Buried with the deceased
Even though he still breathes.

My head is heavy
My thoughts are deep
I am not tired
But very weak.
…

I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty;
I woke, and found that life was duty.

The first cup kisses away my thirst,
and my loneliness is quelled by the second.
The third gives insight worthy of ancient scrolls,
and the fourth exiles my troubles.
My body becomes lighter with the fifth,
and the sixth sends word from immortals.
But the seventh—oh the seventh cup—
if I drink you, a wind will hurry my wings
toward the sacred island.
Translated by Christopher Nelson