Just a place to post my poems... ( Archived) (36)

Feedback always welcome...

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**A poem of simple expression**

For my soul has grown heavy with the burdens I bear,
I have contained and controlled one to many a flare.
To release them may be what I need but it is a scare,
For anger and vengeance are feelings inside there.

I fear those escaping the most of my burdens all,
for they are the strongest and meanest behind my wall.
Their force is unthinkable and has the fiercest call,
but under their weight I feel myself beginning to fall.

I shout to the heavens with my head turned to the sky,
wanting the freedom of a life that on wings does fly.
Like over filled clouds, tears begin to escape my eye,
release has been granted me safely now, I take it, I cry.

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**Unseen Death A poem of loss**

What is the loss of but one mans dream
it’s not a death by more then him seen
But does it leave a mark when it flies
seen by those who look inside his eyes

Does a heart beat one time less or not
when the hope once held must be forgot
Does a shadow cross the light he had
casting a darkened emotion of being sad

Will anyone who knew the dream lost
know how he feels and what it cost
What of those who never knew of it
will they notice something doesn’t fit

Will any concern be granted or shared
Will it be missed by anyone who cared
or is the dreamer alone in the feeling
silently broken, defeated, and reeling

If his dream was one of love expressed
will the one he has it for be distressed
or will their lack of his dream returned
protect them from the feelings burned

Perhaps some dreams are doomed to die
those dreaming them not seeing the lie
that the dream they thought was shared
is no longer in the other one who cared

A heart beat slows, a light grows dim
for the dream has passed away from him
his eyes stopped shining no light remains
his step now heavier with sorrows chains

He tries to look at what now lays ahead
but inside he feels as though already dead
life now left for him he must live alone
how can he face a future that’s so unknown

with no more hope for love to ever feel
he must simply lock away and now seal
that dream he had long held and sought
now he knows it was never by him caught

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The last one above written the day after being told I was no longer loved by my ex-wife, hence the seemingly raw emotional content of it. :)

Just a couple older ones to get the thread started. As I mentioned above feedback is always welcome.

Take care all,
me

Within the ranks of the living are those who are not yet dead but walk amongst mankind much like spirits, easily overlooked, and often forgotten when seen, they are...

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The Shadow Walkers

Beside you in the sun have I walked
Together we have often just talked.
Though a step behind is where I stand
Know always I am there to lend a hand.

It is not a place you have forced me
No, it is the place I have chosen to be
I am not a seeker of attention or fame
I enjoy being a shadow in your flame.

For seeing you shining so very bright
Is better for me then any spotlight
Your dreams will I try to fill for you
Doing all I can to make each come true

I am not known by people very well
To many my life seems like a hell
Some do not understand why I care
They think life has been to me unfair

What they fail to understand you see
Is that my life is wonderful for me
A joyous peace and freedom it brings
To be the wind beneath your wings

Beside you in the sun have I walked
Together we have often just talked.
Though a step behind is where I stand
Know always I am there to lend a hand.

Though in your shadow I choose to be
I hope for you I am a pleasant memory
All of those I have been lucky to know
With me will their memory always go

A walker of the shadows is my way
Trying to give others a peaceful day
Easily forgotten and even seldom seen
It is just the way that I've always been

I share these thoughts not for pity
Nor do I share them to garner envy
They are so others will understand
I just like being your life's stage hand

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Dedicated to all those who, like me, consider themselves to be, shadow walkers.

Beautiful poetry...and very deep. Thank you for sharing your words with us.

Thank you....I enjoyed each and every one. Have you any more?

Very kind of you both, I am glad you found reading them worth the time take, thank you!

I do indeed have more and will add some as time goes on. or will simply create some as inspiration provides. Again thank you both for the kind words.

Take care,
me

Thank you very much, I am glad you enjoyed reading them. You have very much sparked my interest now and I would love to read "The Maze" if you would be willing to share it? I will indeed post some more... hmm in fact I will go and grab one now to add...

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**Emotional Gardens**

In every soul there is a place in which emotions grow
there to be tended by those in whom the emotions flow.
As with the flowers of the world nourishing is needed,
and to the tender of the garden each feeling is heeded.

The blossom of fear, its deep purple color tinting the shade,
grows in shadows where tricks of light are often played.
When ignored by the tender the blossom of fear expands,
one day springing forth unbidden by the tender s hands.

But the flower of fear when cared for and kept in its place,
fills the shadows with excitement, wonder, and even grace.

The blossoms of joy, vivid whites and yellow abound,
in every niche` of every garden are they easily found.
For they spread, mingle, and flourish, with wild array,
even through the thickest of other flowers in their way.

Yes the flower of joy, within every garden will find a place,
flourishing in both the shadow and light with elegant grace.

The blossoms of wonder also spread in the garden of mind,
each bloom completely different, individual, one of a kind.
Their petals un-spread, in tight buds they remain concealed,
but when picked from the vine they open, beauty's revealed.

The flower of wonder, sometimes hidden within its place,
shares with us only after we seek it, the glory of it's grace.

The golden blossom of sorrow also in each garden takes hold,
in unknown numbers, sizes, and places do their colors unfold.
But the bloom is meant to be returned to the garden's ground,
feeding the roots of the garden is when it's beauty is found.

The petals of sorrow often seem to be in the wrong place,
but more times then not that's where we need their grace.

Each garden that grows in world or mind faces the seasons,
times when things alter and change with or without any reasons.
Sometimes the changes come early and other times their late,
each should be guarded though for jealousy, envy, and hate.

In times of change is when weeds often tend to find their place,
and though they can destroy they too can have a certain grace.
Within each of us a hidden garden is tended and always grows,
every day of our lives we tend it and through us its beauty flows.

Everyone we meet in some small part serves what the garden needed,
but we should always be aware of what part of the need we heeded.

The blossom of love is never alone, you see on each plant it is found,
it grows on the vines, the stalks, and the trunks and even in the ground.
For without the gardens rich soil and many plants, we tend from above,
we would never truly know or even comprehend the depth of true love.

The blossoms of love, deep red and full shaped have no single place,
their beauty is everywhere and is what gives the others their grace.
So it is to you to tend your garden daily for the flowers that it grows
care for it well and through you the beauty, and the love, of it flows.

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Again thank you for the kind words, take care,
me

No worries on posting publicly or not, I would welcome a private reading of it just as much, take your time to consider. I have not been professionally published no, but I am working toward that end and will hopefully soon be launching my own website in which I will offer some of my other writing including short stories and various other types.

It is something for which I have always had a passion yet have only in the past couple of years begun to explore more publically so to speak. So I have a great many things written already but most of them have either never been read by others or only read by family, with a couple exceptions being one that was included in a letter to the editor of a small paper, and one that was in a school paper many years ago.

Thank you for the comment on the most recent addition it is another of my favorites followed closely by this one, which is basically homeage to parents who tended their childrens "Emotional Gardens"...

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**A Gardeners Reflection**

Upon the soft petals of the potted red rose,
the tender love and care given softly glows.
To all those who view this flowers deep beauty,
no thought is given to the gardeners past duty.

Instead they will see, only natures sweet graces,
their souls absorb it from visual embraces.
Praising the glory of a flowers blessed love
fed to it daily from a soiled and worn glove.

A glove on a hand so callused and ever sore,
a hand that gives whatever it can and more.
What it took to be we may not remember,
the love that was given we seldom consider.

But from time to time we really need to reflect,
on the one who cared and never did neglect.
For it was their love from seedling to blossom,
that radiates from the flowers light so awesome.

Without the love they selflessly gave for so long,
the petals and leaves would not be very strong.
Remember the gardener whose caring was driven,
they deserve to get back as much as they’ve given.