Shortly after college, I began writing poetry in an effort to make better sense of random thoughts, puzzling experiences, and internal dialogue. Inspiration is very sporadic, and the poems I’ve written are few and far between.
I wrote my first poem about several chance encounters, which I considered missed connections.
Regret
Inspired by my frustrating inability to seize the moment
I sat beside you on the bus while riding home from class.
My knee brushed up against yours, and I thrilled at the brief touch.
I glanced into your eyes hoping the moment wouldn’t pass.
With fear and insecurity, I quickly faced the glass.
Trapped in my throat were all the words I longed to say so much.
Your curly red hair draped your shoulders that October night.
I asked you for directions and got lost inside your eyes.
I thought of asking you to join us before we took flight.
The words I could have said to you would not have come out right.
It’s just as well I simply thanked you and said my good-byes.
One bright and sunny Saturday, I came into your store.
I browsed through books and music, never knowing you were there.
As I approached the desk, I saw the one I missed before.
We shared a love for Ella, but as I moved toward the door,
I choked on words that would not come and vanished in despair.
I noticed you while grocery shopping Sunday afternoon.
My cart approached you, and your smile caught my weary gaze.
I tried to smile back, but your eyes pulled away too soon.
I’ve never been the kind of man who makes the ladies swoon.
There were no words to tell you how your smile made my day.
To all you lovely ladies, I had no words to impart.
The things I could have said to you are trapped inside me yet.
In certain situations, I am simply not too smart.
I haven’t found a way to fully open up my heart.
Until I do, I will continue living with regret.
Senior year of college, my friend, Jason, died unexpectedly. We met only a few years earlier during freshman year at a community college but became fast friends. We hadn’t spoken in a while, so I called night after night until we finally connected. We had a great conversation. Jason died the next day. Something made me keep calling until I reached him, and I’m eternally grateful for that.
Unspoken
Inspired by a far too brief friendship with my incredible friend, Jason
The night before you left, you said, “You’re special to me, Kent.”
I heard the words, but doubted they were really what you meant.
I lacked the self-esteem, which would allow me to believe
The love and caring thoughts you offered were mine to receive.
I’m trying to forgive myself for keeping it all in.
The words I’m saying now are words I couldn’t speak back then.
I’m learning now that life’s too short to bottle words inside.
I must say what’s inside me, even when it hurts my pride.
I love you, Jason, you’re the one who made me realize
I still don’t know who I am. You could see that in my eyes.
I’m trying to find out, but it’s a complicated task.
I often wish that you were here, so I’d have you to ask.
I turn to God and picture you there speaking in his ear.
You’re telling him to guide me when my life becomes unclear.
I know you’re watching over me and all your friends on earth.
You realized, before I did, what a friend is truly worth.
I’m looking forward to the day when we will meet again.
I’ll walk into your outstretched arms to hug my cherished friend.
I know too well how your departure left me heartbroken.
When next we meet, be assured, I’ll leave no words unspoken.
I struggled to find my footing after graduating college and moving to a new city on my own. Frequent telephone conversations with my friend, Tony, provided comfort. I admired Tony’s confidence, and his welcome advice greatly inspired me.
My Friend
Inspired by my amazing friend Tony
I try my best to talk to you, but there’s much I don’t say.
You’ve no idea of the thoughts that I would love to share.
I have so much to tell you, but my pride gets in the way.
It’s hard to spill your soul when you fear that your words may scare.
The words flow easier on paper when they’re set in rhyme.
It sometimes feels like someone else is speaking with this pen.
But have no doubt, the sentiment expressed here is all mine.
These are the words I long to share with one of my best friends.
I hope you know by now how much your friendship means to me.
I’ve been amazed to witness how you’ve grown in recent years.
I love the way you open up and set your feelings free.
It gives me hope I’ll do the same once I conquer my fears.
Our friendship’s been a welcome blessing in my life so far.
When we first met, I saw you as the class clown spinning jokes.
I gradually discovered how incredible you are.
Your tenderness showed through in all the heart-felt words you spoke.
My admiration and respect run deep for you, my friend.
You have a talent for achieving every goal you set.
You believe in yourself with a conviction that won’t end.
That’s one important quality I haven’t mastered yet.
The courage you display when you’re expressing what you feel
Inspires me to reveal the emotions I hold in.
I’m driven to express thoughts I would normally conceal.
It’s seldom said, but you should know that I love you, my friend.
Not long after moving to St. Louis, I developed an intense interest in the performing arts. I enrolled in a few acting and singing classes and took part in several community theater productions, both behind the scenes and on stage. As a member of the stage crew for the Hawthorne Players production of Tom Jones, I was blown away by its talented cast.
The Play
Inspired by the talented Hawthorne Players cast of Tom Jones
The music starts.
The lights come up.
The cast waits in the wings.
The curtain parts
As anxious hearts
Await what tonight brings.
All voices dim.
All eyes are fixed
Upon the patient stage.
The actors enter,
Hit their marks,
And set the night ablaze.
Emotions soar
As words collide,
And souls are bared to all.
Heroes fight,
And lovers kiss.
Wonder fills the hall.
As action mounts,
The villains flee.
Our hero saves the day!
Then friends unite
For one last bow.
That magic is the play.
It took me a long time to come out. America, in general, and the rural Midwest, in particular, doesn’t warmly welcome the LGBTQ+ community, or any diverse community. I tried to avoid the truth as long as possible. I read a book titled, “You Don’t Have to Be Gay”, and I met with a representative from an ex-gay ministry. Eventually, a shift occurred. I stopped seeking guidance from those who condemn my gay identity and sought support from those who affirm it. I was very fortunate to be accepted by friends and family when I came out, and I know how lucky that makes me.
The Question
Inspired by an agonizing personal battle
There’s a question that begs answering;
An answer that’s unknown.
I’ve toiled with it for years on end.
My torment’s grown and grown.
I’d like to find the answer,
But the answer’s what I fear.
I’ve wrestled with it for so long,
What’s another year?
No, it can’t go left unanswered.
I’ve put it off too long.
Why continue running?
Why not face it and be strong?
A voice keeps screaming at me.
“You shouldn’t dig too deep.
They may not understand you.
Just let this question sleep!”
That’s how I’ve coped so far.
That’s how I’ve gotten by.
But getting by will only help
Me live within this lie.
It’s such a simple question.
Can all this doubt be real?
It can if a heart’s shielded
From the deepest things it feels.
Until I face the answer,
Until I know what’s true,
It seems to make more sense for me
To hide my thoughts from you.
But what if that’s the problem?
By keeping this inside,
I seem to further cloud my thoughts
And force the truth to hide.
Is it best to just express it?
Might the question, said aloud,
Begin to ease my heartache
And lift this heavy cloud?
Is there any harm in trying?
Will it make things worse to say
What’s been troubling me all along?
God, please help me now, I pray.
Am I gay?
I was very shy and reserved in high school, then blossomed a lot in college and came out of my shell. Since then, I gradually retreated from that outgoing college persona. Far too often, I let my harsh inner critic win the day.
Empty
Inspired by my inability to open up and be myself
A soul that can’t share
A voice that can’t speak
A passion that burns,
But in one who’s too meek
Two arms scared to hug
Two lips scared to kiss
Too many years lost
Never learning to risk
A hope unfulfilled
A dream undefined
A heart wrapped in fear
Of each mountain not climbed
The nights spent alone
The beds never shared
The yearnings for touch
From somebody who cares
Each room full of toys
Each day full of chores
Each minute spent craving
A tiny bit more
A life lived in fear
A life lived in doubt
A life lived avoiding
All one dreams about
The Grandel Theatre in St. Louis used to produce an annual cabaret series at which it featured cabaret artists from New York City. I attended many of them, but one performance soared high above the rest. This poem is over the top, but so is David Campbell’s angelic voice. I was lucky enough to see David perform two more times, both in NYC. I’ll never forget it.
The Golden Voice
Inspired by the soulful voice of David Campbell
Soft words emerge from deep inside,
And when set free, give birth to song.
As if on wings, the music glides
Around me, where its hug provides
The comfort I sought all along.
At moments when life seems to be
So worrisome and hard to bear,
I let his voice wash over me,
And find within its melody
The hope to fight, to dream, to dare.
How can the voice of one lone man
Inspire such determined aims?
Just listen, and you’ll understand.
His voice does what few others can.
It lifts my spirit above life’s strain.
The words begin in whispered tones
Then quickly burn with energy
And passion, like you’ve never known,
Until all sorrow’s overthrown.
That’s what his music does to me.
When searching for such gift of song,
There is only one perfect choice –
One artist whose fire burns this strong.
The talent to touch hearts belongs
To David with the golden voice.
My second job out of college was at Mercantile Bank. My first boss, Andréa, was phenomenal. When Andréa left the bank several years into my time there, it was hard to say goodbye.
Ta-ta for Now
Inspired by Andréa, the best boss one could ask for
These seven years have come and gone
In the blink of an eye,
And as a new year starts to dawn,
You have decided to move on.
How can we say goodbye?
It’s been a pleasure knowing you
For these past several years.
We just can’t find enough words to
Sufficiently describe to you
Why this time was so dear.
A consummate professional –
You’re blessed with grace and poise.
But, what will we miss most of all?
Your laughter ringing through the hall.
It’s such a happy noise.
Andréa, may your dreams come true.
And if you will allow…
We wish you luck in all you do,
But we can’t say goodbye to you.
So it’s ta-ta for now.
At my younger brother’s wedding, he and his bride recited their own vows. Monte ended his vows to Melissa by saying he’d make her laugh every day, because he loves to hear it so much. That touched me greatly and inspired this poem.
I Do
Inspired by Monte’s wedding vows to his bride, Melissa
I’ll hold your hand. I’ll kiss your cheek.
I’ll hug you when we part.
I’ll share with you my dreams and doubts,
And open up my heart.
I’ll hold the door, pull out your chair,
And help you paint the town.
I’ll be right here to pick you up
Whenever you fall down.
I’ll sing you songs and write you poems.
I’ll whisper in your ear
To tell you in each way I can
How much I love you, Dear.
I’ll get to know each little quirk,
Those things that make you, you.
And when I think I know them all,
I’ll learn of something new.
I’ll cherish you each minute and
Thank God for you each night.
And every day you’re in my life,
I’ll know that all is right.
I’ll help you raise a family –
Our two boys and a girl.
The boys will have their dad’s blue eyes.
Our girl will have your curls.
I’ll live and learn and love with you,
And as the years roll by,
I may not make things perfect, but,
Please know that I will try.
There’s one more thing I’ll do each day
To add the perfect touch.
I’ll make you laugh, because,
I love to hear it very much.
My brothers and I were very close to Grandma Jones. She watched us every day after school while Mom and Dad worked. When she passed away, I began writing this poem, planning to recite it at her funeral. I didn’t get very far though, so I finished it later and gave it to Mom as a Christmas gift.
Grandma’s Love
Inspired by Grandma Jones
Where should we begin? What are the right words to impart?
How can we adequately tell you of the love in Grandma’s heart?
I remember Hershey’s Kisses found each day, right after school.
Three Kisses for each grandson, on the table, was the rule.
She watched us every afternoon ‘til Mom and Dad came home.
As Grandma watched us, toys in tow, around the house we’d roam.
I remember Christmas Eve every year at Grandma’s house.
She’d spoil us with goodies, and from us, she’d get a blouse.
She fed us pumpkin pie cake each year, that special night.
Then we’d pile in the car and tour Christmas lights.
I remember planting flowers every spring in Grandma’s yard.
I dug the holes and plopped them in. It really wasn’t hard.
She loved her red geraniums and tulips by the door.
Beneath the front room window, we would plant mums by the score.
I remember each Thanksgiving, after Mom had helped Dad cook,
“Now someone go get Grandma,” she would say with a stern look.
As Grandma tip toed up the stairs, her driver close behind,
Tucked in her arm were cookies, usually the no bake kind.
I remember Grandma’s slippers, almost worn through at the toe.
I remember mowing Grandma’s yard with help from Monte Joe.
I remember word search puzzles. I remember Mountain Dew.
I remember singing songs for her when she was feeling blue.
There’s much more I could tell you of how Grandma made life fun,
But no amount of words can say
How much she touched our hearts each day.
She had a very special way
Of loving each grandson.
I watched interior designer, Nate Berkus, every time he appeared on Oprah. After losing his partner, Fernando Bengoechea, to the Indian Ocean tsunami on December 26, 2004, he appeared again, not to discuss interior design, but to discuss his heartbreaking loss. Around the same time, I lost my friend, Ashley, to a drunk driver. I channeled my feelings of loss for Ashley into this poem as a small, inadequate attempt to imagine the loss Nate felt for Fernando.
Nate’s Poem
Inspired by love cut far too short
You were just here, right beside me.
We were safe, and you were here.
A whole lifetime lay before us.
I remember it so clear.
There was no reason to hurry.
We had endless days ahead.
I was sure we had forever.
So I left some things unsaid.
There were countless more I love yous
Simply waiting to be heard,
And tales of how you changed my life.
I’d have told you every word.
I still need some more convincing
That it’s true, and you are gone.
Can it be that now, without you,
I will have to carry on?
No, it feels almost as easy
As just pressing the rewind,
To erase that awful moment,
So I won’t be left behind.
But I’m sitting here without you.
Trying hard to make it through.
I am going through the motions.
There is nothing else to do.
Now another day awaits me.
Heading toward the door, I think,
“How on earth will I get through this?
Where will I summon the strength?”
As I pass the mirror and catch my gaze,
It’s then that I’m surprised to see,
The man you were while here on earth,
Is in there, staring back at me.
When my friend, Sara, and I both worked in downtown St. Louis, we lunched together often. Sara befriended the hottie behind the counter of her building’s lunch spot. He’s ever so dreamy. The enormous crush I developed on him inspired this, and three subsequent, poems.
Better Than My Dream
Inspired by my dream and your reality
I’ve dreamt of who I’m searching for.
I almost know his face.
He’ll soon arrive to free me from
Heartache’s lonely embrace.
I’ve pictured him with wavy hair.
It’s dark and soft to touch.
He’ll let me run my fingers through.
He’ll like that very much.
His pale blue eyes will seek me out,
And light up when we meet.
He’ll ask where I’ve been all his life
Then sweep me off my feet.
His voice is soft and soothing as
He whispers in my ear
To tell me that he loves me, and
He’s glad to have me near.
His laugh, so loud and echoing
That strangers stop and smile.
It’s clear that we were meant to be.
We’ve known it for a while.
This dream, I fear, is fantasy…
My lonely heart’s ideal.
And no amount of wishing for
My dream will make him real.
In silent patience, as I wait
Hoping he’ll still appear,
You quietly step into frame.
Your smile draws me near.
But you don’t have dark, wavy hair.
Your eyes are green, not blue,
And you do not fit all the traits
That I described to you.
Though that smile bowls me over.
You’d melt glaciers with your grin,
And I’m thrilled each time I see you
By the charming soul within.
I realize now my dream was not
As perfect as he seemed.
You’re not who I’ve been searching for.
You’re better than my dream.
After dinner one evening, Sara and I stopped by the Chocolate Bar for dessert. I thought our handsome waiter gave me the eye, but Sara and I weren’t completely sure. I returned a week later in an attempt to catch him at work, but I chickened out and raced back home, never to return again.
The Chocolate Bar
Inspired by a missed opportunity
It’s been a week since we first met.
I counted every day,
And racing through my mind
Are all the things I want to say.
I felt the way you looked at me.
Did you feel something too?
I wish I’d had the courage
To speak up and talk to you.
It’s really nothing new to me,
This feeling of regret.
But ours is not a meeting
I am likely to forget.
I tried to visit you again,
But fear got in my way.
I walked up to the front door,
Then I turned and walked away.
I hope to make another trip,
And this one I’ll see through.
I’ll find in me the courage
To step in and speak to you.
Until the day, when I return,
I hope you won’t forget
That quiet evening from before,
When you and I first met.
When the touring company of Spamalot visited the Fabulous Fox Theatre, the cast’s soulful performance truly spoke to me. It was very apparent each company member found their true calling in performing live theater, just as they were meant to do.
Share Your Grail
Dedicated to the touring cast of Monty Python’s Spamalot
Inspired by your incredible talent
When God bestows a talent
It is meant for us to taste.
While it is ours to run with,
It is also ours to waste.
Electing to explore it
And pursue it to extremes
Is what we must commit to,
If we want to live our dreams.
For some, the path before them
Seems laid out right from the start.
For others, their long journey
Seems forever in the dark.
My own was cast in shadow,
Until your light came along.
What was resigned to fear and doubt
Awoke to hear your song.
To watch you work the magic,
Which God chose for you to know
Proves why it’s so important
That we never let it go.
To let it sleep for too long,
Is a habit we must end.
We all must tap our talent,
And it’s time that we begin.
Thank you for what you’ve shown me,
For the courage you display
When you bare your soul each night
And thrill us with your play.
I fully realize that until I put myself out there, it’s not possible for me to meet anyone. However, when I do, I hope to live out the last four lines of this poem.
Hopelessly Romantic
Inspired by movie visions of love
I am hopelessly romantic.
There’s a vision I dream of.
It’s a lifetime spent residing
In the arms of my true love.
It’s so easy in the movies,
Where fate plays the perfect part,
Bringing boy and girl together
Just before the screen goes dark.
Growing up, I took for granted
That the years which lay ahead
Would see this fairy tale come true
And find me happily wed.
As the years continue rolling,
And I find myself alone,
I wonder if true love’s a dream
That won’t be mine to own.
Let’s pretend that life’s a movie.
We’re almost an hour in.
We await the soaring love theme.
Will the music soon begin?
As this film’s title character,
I’m free to guide the plot.
Some paths will be worth following.
My current path is not.
Instead, a path with wedding bells,
And one with skies of blue.
The path I choose to follow is
The one that leads to you.
Quite out of character for me, I finally found the courage to express my feelings to my crush, who inspired the poem, Better Than My Dream. It turned out to be an unrequited crush, but I wasn’t devastated. The simple act of voicing my true feelings was a win.
No Regret
Inspired by a big infatuation
Cluttered though my mind may be,
You dominate my thoughts.
Though I try to set them free,
The effort is for naught.
Sometimes granted a reprieve
From dreaming of your face,
My anxious heart enjoys relief
And beats a slower pace.
Then the thoughts of you return,
As they do every day.
Racing through my mind are all
The things I want to say.
I choke on words that never come,
And settle in despair.
I’ll not express the way I feel.
You’ll not know that I care.
But in a moment’s clarity,
I make another choice.
A sudden burst of courage
Helps me choose to raise my voice.
The music trapped inside of me,
At last is set in song.
You’re hearing my heart’s melody;
A tune trapped for too long.
Unhappily, the song I sing
Falls silent on your ears.
You do not feel the same for me,
So, softly fall my tears.
Though saddened by the outcome,
I will harbor no regret.
At last I opened up my heart –
A thrill I won’t forget.
My former crush has a wonderful pair of hands. They inspired this third poem dedicated to his beauty.
Hands
Inspired by a wonderful pair of hands
Rough and callused,
Dingy nails,
Laboring day to day.
Gripping slender
Bottleneck
When set free to play.
Weathered knuckles,
Crooked, bent,
Weary at first glance.
Earning a new
Scratch or scar
When given the chance.
Reaching further,
Grasping more,
Building a career.
Laboring always,
Never rest,
Purpose: straight and clear.
Extending a
Warm greeting
Every time we meet.
Each encounter’s
Stolen glances
Quicken my heartbeat.
Reaching now to
Fold my hands
In their tender touch.
Guide me down this
Path, which I’ve
Longed to walk so much.
Sara asked if I’d write a poem for her. So I penned this dandy inspired by her vibrant spirit.
Sara’s Song
Inspired by my lovely friend, Sara
In the way her laughter
Brings a smile to your face,
And makes you, for a moment,
Overlook life’s frantic pace.
In the way her smile
Quickly melts your chilly gaze,
And warms the cold demeanor
You had planned to wear today.
In the way her eyes
Look in yours, without a word,
And hold a conversation,
Although not a sound is heard.
In the way her voice
Speaks with passion from the heart,
Expressing inner thoughts
That she is happy to impart.
In the way her heart
Opens up to let you in.
From the moment you first meet,
The connection will begin.
In these ways and others,
She can brighten days gone wrong.
This is where you look to find
The light in Sara’s song.
My sister-in-law lost her mother to cancer. She was way too young with far too many life experiences still stretched out in front of her. I tried to make sense of it but could not. I wrote this in a hopeless attempt to uncover some kind of meaning.
Gentle Grace
Inspired by Beth’s soft-spoken, gentle soul
What are we supposed to do
On such a senseless day?
Yesterday the life we led
Seemed charmed in every way.
Trying to make sense of it
Is not an easy task.
I have just one question, so
To you, I turn and ask…
Why, when she was still so young
And had much more to do,
Why is that the moment she
Was called back home to you?
You know how much she enriched
All of the lives she touched.
How can this make sense to you
When it hurts us so much?
No amount of reasoning
Will help me understand.
Therefore, I resign myself
To leave it in your hands.
Maybe we’re too close, and we
Must seek a wider view
To see the bigger picture –
The plan at work through you.
Though we may not understand
Why she’s no longer here,
We know where to look to find
The one we held so dear.
We see her in Aidan’s laugh
And in Sophia’s grin.
Lauren and Elena’s touch
Reveals her there within.
Beth lives on in every soul
She touched while in this place.
Thank you for the chance we had
To know her gentle grace.
Bradley made it into this world but battled terrible obstacles from day one. He fought valiantly but eventually lost the battle. His brief life taught us valuable lessons.
Lessons
Inspired by Bradley’s brief life
God graced us with a blessing,
The most precious kind of all –
A gentle soul whose loving heart
Taught us to heed this call…
Love with everything you have
Every single day you live.
Although it may be broken,
Your heart still has love to give.
You wish you could control it all,
But that’s not in the plan.
You’ll need some help from time to time,
So let God take your hand.
Cherish every moment spent
With those you love so dear.
Let them know you’re happiest
At times when they are near.
Realize that life’s worries
Raining on you from above
Shouldn’t be your focus.
You should concentrate on love.
Bradley’s brief life taught us this,
And although he is gone,
Through Tom, Amy, and Gregory
His lessons will live on.
If I ever do put myself out there and tempt the universe to make my dreams come true, this is one of those dreams.
Lips
Inspired by a dream of mine
They whisper an, “I love you”
On a warm and gentle breath.
The warmth encircles my ear,
As it thrills me half to death.
Pepp’ring my ear with kisses,
Softly tugging on the lobe,
Slowly gliding down my neck,
Senses all on overload.
They offer a, “Good morning”
As the daylight filters in.
Then quickly peck me on the cheek,
And a new day begins.
Gently bent around the rim,
They sip a glass of juice,
Then ask me what I’m staring at
Before my eyes break loose.
“It’s nothing,” I assure them,
But they do not seem convinced.
They form a crooked smile
Followed by a playful wince.
Throughout the day they regale me
With stories of our past,
And visions of our future,
Knowing how it’s meant to last.
And as we stand here hand in hand,
Beneath this sky of blue,
They speak the words I’ve longed for most.
They simply say, “I do.”
I wasn’t built for a corporate job. I’d pursue my creative interests if given another chance. I began writing this poem within the first year or two after graduation, but didn’t finish. Roughly 20 years later, I returned to complete it.
Suits
Inspired by corporate stiffs and my unhappiness with a corporate job
They march before me to and fro
All neatly cleaned and pressed.
Draping starched souls in blue and gray,
They always look their best.
They’re rushing here and there while they
Work hard to earn some green.
Though most of life, it seems, is spent
Just staring at a screen.
That hard work helps support a life
All smooth and buttoned down.
A life that’s neat and orderly,
A life of beige and brown.
It’s on that track, I find myself.
I joined the corporate team.
Each day is quite predictable –
A perfect, boring dream.
It’s not the dream I wanted though.
There’s nothing here for me.
If I was stronger, I might try
To set my real dream free.
That takes more courage, I’m afraid,
Than I have got to spare.
So back to work I’ll go each day,
To put in my fair share.
Quite clearly, that’s the safest way
To navigate this road.
Though forfeiting life’s highest highs,
I’ll dodge its lowest lows.
And I could stay resigned to this –
My life of apathy,
But that would cost me something more
Than I am willing to pay for,
Something I treasure and adore –
Your deep belief in me.
I frequently lose the daily battle with my inner critic to live as genuinely as I’d like, but I’m confident I’ll do so eventually.
Wake Up
Inspired by my hope to live my dreams before it’s too late
The clock ticks on.
The days pass by.
I won’t wake up.
I don’t know why.
I dream the life
I’d like to know,
But don’t grab hold.
I let it go.
My life remains
Just as it’s been.
I seek a change.
I wonder when?
Each day I think
A change will come.
Just down the road,
All will be won.
No actions stir.
I remain still.
I do not move.
I lack the will.
Wishes and dreams,
So far away,
Unless I act,
Starting today.
I say I will,
But fear I won’t.
I want to move.
What if I don’t?
Tomorrow is
Not guaranteed.
If I delay,
I won’t succeed.
This fear inside
Builds prison walls;
Leaves me to roam
Its empty halls.
What will it take
To wake in me
The dreams that are
Not yet set free?
While ringing in the new year at the end of 1999, I remained a spectator most of the evening, watching the rest of the crowd celebrate. I feared looking too foolish if cavorting about the dance floor in wild abandon, so I retreated into myself.
Heartache
Inspired by loneliness while surrounded by friends on New Year’s Eve 1999
Bright balloons cover the table.
Silver streamers hug the door.
The party’s just beginning,
And it’s hard to keep from grinning
As the drinks begin to pour.
Happy smiles surround the table.
Hearty laughter fills the air.
Glad faces begin shining
As the revelers start dining.
There is music in the air.
Clinking crystal tops the table.
Food and drink enjoyed by all.
Each glass is raised for toasting.
Father Time will soon be boasting,
The New Year has come to call.
Empty chairs pushed to the table.
Shuffling feet hit the dance floor.
We will welcome in the year
With special friends we hold so dear,
Yet I’m missing something more.
Cheers erupt around the table.
Lovers share a New Year’s kiss.
Wrapped in one another’s arms,
They so enjoy each other’s charms.
I’m just a spectator to this.
Coats and bags grabbed off the table,
Guests beginning to depart,
Couples walking hand in hand
To final notes played by the band,
And an ache within my heart.
My former crush and I once enjoyed a suspenseful movie together, which inspired this fourth and final poem in his honor.
I’d Have Held Your Hand
Inspired by a movie shared with someone special
Shoulder to shoulder,
We sit and we stare.
While the screen flashes,
I hide my despair.
Sitting this closely
Is thrilling and new.
Nowhere is better
Than right beside you.
Leaning into you
I sink in my seat,
Hoping I’m able
To feel your heartbeat.
Feeling the rhythm
Of your every breath,
Rising and falling,
It thrills me to death.
Your grasp on my arm
As the suspense grows,
Though it excites,
Also adds to my woes.
I cannot hold you,
Since you’re spoken for.
Shying from you,
I must gaze at the floor.
If all the heavens
Were at my command
For these two hours,
I’d have held your hand.
One warm, summer evening, a group of friends and I gathered for dinner. Our waiter’s undeniable beauty inspired this poem.
Perfect Paul
Inspired by a perfect waiter
Your chiseled face,
Your sun kissed skin,
Your perfect, dimpled smile.
Flawless features,
I would love to
Gaze upon a while.
Biceps gently
Peeking out from
Underneath your shirt.
Piercing eyes glance
Into mine so
My gaze must divert.
Greek godlike
In your perfection,
Exhibit not one flaw.
I, in dumbfound
Admiration,
Stare at you in awe.
I’m not shallow,
Though this rhyme
Quite makes me out to be.
I admire
Beauty, and in
You that’s what I see.
I can tell that
In you it is
Not only skin deep.
My memory
Of meeting you
Is one that I will keep.
Chance encounters with a handsome gentleman working out of the same office building as me always brightened my day. I developed a crush on him as well.
Jimmy
Inspired by a special guy
How lucky to have joined you
In the elevator now.
I’d like to share my thoughts,
But circumstances won’t allow.
So I’ll spill them on paper
Where it’s safe to bare my soul.
Safe from prying eyes and ears,
So I might be consoled.
You simply were perfection
In your snug, form fitting shirt.
Each time we meet I curse that
I am unable to flirt.
You know that your eyes twinkle,
And they sparkle when you speak?
I noticed that just now.
Your eyes could make my knees go weak.
Your smile, when you grin at me,
Ignites a spark within.
That spark cannot be fanned though,
And a flame cannot begin.
Our present situation,
Will not allow you know
How fond I am of you,
So on this page my thoughts must go.
Perhaps one day you’ll learn of them,
Though doubtful that you will.
Yet on this page and in my mind,
These thoughts will exist still.
Until I started seeing more and more examples of it, I didn’t fully appreciate just how important it is to see people like me represented positively in the world. YouTube creators, Mark and Ethan, used to post about their daily lives. The simple act of displaying their life experience as a happy, well-adjusted gay couple was incredibly inspiring.
Every Day Is a Great Day
Inspired by Mark and Ethan
It’s easy to impress with feats of strength that you have done,
Or gain some admiration for the prizes you have won.
You might inspire awe by flexing pecs beneath your tank,
Or by placing large amounts of money in the bank.
However, to impress with smaller acts is rare indeed,
And it’s those kinds of acts of which this world is in need.
I know two guys who offer inspiration just that way.
They inspire others, simply living day to day.
They grant a glimpse into the lives they live from week to week,
And they inspire countless souls by offering that peek.
They make it clear that life should be an utter joy to live.
They do this through the simple act of all the love they give.
Embracing every moment just by living in the now,
They demonstrate how best to live. Just watch, and you’ll see how.
By simply living as themselves, the guys they’re meant to be,
They give the gifts they’re meant to give to everyone they see,
And that is quite a treasure they provide to you and me.
When the touring company of Pippin visited the Peabody Opera House, it so impressed me, I saw the show two days in a row. In the role of Pippin himself, Kyle Dean Massey, brought the house down. I was also lucky enough to see him in the role of Tony in the Muny’s production of West Side Story. When he brought his solo cabaret act to St. Louis, I saw it twice as well. I presented him with a copy of this poem, inspired by his performances, and he kindly returned a signed copy of my Pippin Playbill.
Purpose
Inspired by Kyle Dean Massey
It truly is a blessing
When you know what you’re to do
With the years the universe
Entrusted unto you.
For we can’t know, will those years
Total many or a few?
For some, they spend a lifetime
Trying this and trying that.
They play with different options,
Trying on hat after hat.
Each time it’s not a perfect fit,
They fear they’ve fallen flat.
Others seem to find their mark
Within the opening scene.
They trust their heart to guide them
Though the path’s not always clean.
It seems to me that is the route
Chosen by Kyle Dean.
When watching him on stage, it’s clear
His talent’s born from love.
He’s living out his purpose
Written in the stars above.
Which isn’t always quite so simple
When push comes to shove.
You have to tap your courage,
And connect with your true source.
You have to conquer fears and doubts,
Or they’ll throw you off course.
You have to look ahead with hope,
And not back with remorse.
So if the path you’re walking
Cannot totally be seen,
And if you’re swaying back and forth,
Unsure which way to lean,
Just follow his example,
Trust your heart, like Kyle Dean.
Though I didn’t often voice them aloud, I held pretty lofty dreams in my youth. Prior to experiencing any of what adult life had to offer, I simply assumed they’d all come true. I gradually realized otherwise. Eventually, I nearly stopped dreaming altogether. I didn’t entirely lose hope though. I’m now working to reawaken some unrealized dreams.
Dreams
Inspired by the gradual loss of my ability to dream
It wasn’t very long ago
That dreaming came quite easily.
It never crossed my mind to doubt
Each dream of mine would come to me.
I know it was naivety,
A constant presence in my youth,
Which held reality at bay,
And shielded my heart from the truth.
Such dreams no longer come to me.
My head is filled with other things.
The youthful dreamer from before
No longer operates my strings.
Now in his place sit fear and doubt,
Two guideposts on my current path,
A path on which I walk without
The drive to dream or dare or laugh.
It’s foolhardy, I’m aware,
To quit this early in the game,
But sparks that used to stoke my fire
No longer can ignite a flame.
I try to summon from inside
The will to launch my dreams again,
But nothing stirs, my dreams subside,
And fear, as always, scores the win.
I haven’t found the strength, thus far,
To take responsibility
For all the choices I have made
And where those choices landed me.
But when I do, a turning point
Will finally be at my feet.
I’ll find the will to seek my dreams,
And work until they are complete.
We lost Dad to COVID right before Christmas, only a couple months before the world slowly opened back up when vaccines became available. Being forced to mourn the loss while still isolated from family, and without experiencing the ritual of a proper funeral, proved very difficult. Writing this, and other tributes, to Dad became therapeutic and provided solace.
Dad
Inspired by and dedicated to Bill Bride (March 24, 1943 – December 7, 2020)
I was very blessed to have
A dad I loved a lot.
Yes, when it comes to fathers,
I myself, hit the jackpot.
They say nobody’s perfect,
And I guess that may be true,
But Dad, you came darn close,
And that’s why everyone loved you.
At heart, he was a farmer,
And a car salesman also,
But most of all, he’s Dad,
To me and Phil and Monte Joe.
His favorite place to sit was
On a John Deere tractor’s seat,
And from that perch, his happy place,
Dad’s world was complete.
He had a devout spirit
Centered upon God above.
That spirit shown through every day
And showered us in love.
As easy going as they come,
Dad rarely raised his voice.
When in a jam, friends looked to him,
If given any choice.
Our life without him in it
Absolutely makes no sense.
I may pretend I’m dreaming,
As a form of self-defense.
He will be with me always,
Though his time on earth is done,
And nothing makes me prouder
Than to say I’m Bill Bride’s son.
A year after Dad’s passing, I felt the loss just as much as I had at the start. The careless, selfish way many people chose to live their lives and exercise their “freedom” frustrated me.
Colors
Inspired by the first year since Dad’s passing
While it’s my favorite color,
Blue is also how I feel.
A year to mourn the loss
Was insufficient time to heal.
Dad still should be here with us,
And his absence makes no sense,
But time insists we move on
And discuss him in past tense.
At low points, I grow angry
Until all I see is red.
It’s hard to make sense of
A world that’s turned on its head.
I dreamt the world rallied ‘round
Those most needing protection.
Instead, it turned its back
And walked the opposite direction.
It’s John Deere’s green and yellow
That remind me most of Dad.
I see him on his tractor
And recall the fun he had.
Parading ‘round the county
And out ploughing in the field,
Or hoisting grandkids on his lap
To let them take the wheel.
All colors of the rainbow
Shown through Dad’s soul here on earth.
He lived life with great purpose
And knew what this life is worth.
I’ll try to take my que from him
Approaching the new year,
And maybe, through my actions,
Help his spirit reappear.
On Labor Day weekend of 2022, I witnessed the most genuine display of true love I’ve ever seen in real life. When my dear friend, Sara, married her soulmate, Todd, it touched me greatly. The speeches given by the bride, groom, and both sides of the family were absolutely heartfelt and incredibly inspiring. To be there and witness the magic in person was a true honor.
Worth the Wait
Inspired by Sara and her marriage to Todd
For some, it visits more than once,
For others, not at all.
The rarest form of blessings is
When true love comes to call.
The young take it for granted,
Knowing it will come their way.
Their youthful, cheerful, hopefulness
Keeps fear and doubt at bay.
But as the years accumulate,
Uncertainty sets in.
A doubtful inner voice appears;
The waiting game begins.
The dream we planned to live by now
Remains only a dream.
With youth no longer on our side,
It won’t come true, it seems.
Our doubt builds a strong case against
What hope remains inside;
Resulting in despair, unless
Something can turn the tide.
As we’re preparing to give up,
And put our dream away,
An unexpected circumstance
Reveals another way.
The path we walked took many turns
On which we hadn’t planned,
But through the clearing in the trees
Showed us this place to land.
And though it didn’t follow
My expected time and date,
I’ve no regrets at all, for
It was truly worth the wait.
While every day provides an opportunity to start over and conquer your demons, it also serves as an opportunity to fail, again. It’s a daily struggle for me to win that battle, and all too often, I fail, over and over again. I haven’t lost all hope though, and tomorrow is a brand new day.
Poison
Inspired by my continual intake of unhealthy material
I know much better than my
Current actions would suggest,
And yet, I suffer daily
From the refuse I ingest.
With each sunrise, I tell myself,
Since it’s a brand-new day,
I’ll start completely over,
And I won’t be led astray.
That is all wishful thinking,
And each day, I veer off course.
I gulp down that day’s poison,
Then I sink into remorse.
My sweet tooth wins me over.
I don’t long for natural food.
I’m craving something processed
To prolong my depressed mood.
A walk around the park does not
Entice me to explore.
I decide to open Facebook,
Instead of my front door.
Should I put on some music,
Or sit down and crack a book?
My TV is too tempting.
Let’s give cable news a look.
I am the only bouncer
For my body and my mind.
Though I decide what enters,
Lately, nothing gets declined.
I have a long track record
With this damaging display.
My hope is to recover,
And tomorrow’s a new day.
Not long after moving to St. Louis, before I was out, some friends and I ventured to a huge country western line dancing bar called Incahoots. It sat on the western border of St. Louis County, near St. Charles. I resigned myself to remain a wall flower all evening, observing the action from afar. Part of my observation included spying on a beautiful mystery girl. I took some notes from that evening and intended to write this poem back then, but never did. So more than 20 years later, I decided to review my notes and complete the poem.
It May Have Been Michelle
Inspired by a beautiful mystery girl
A cute blue hat holds tight atop
Her bouncing brunette bob,
And as I stare, I feel like a
Complete and utter slob.
A snug blue top clings to her frame
As she sways to the beat.
My legs don’t have the strength to walk
Me out so we can meet.
She sports a carefree spirit that
Shines through on the dance floor.
While my self-conscious inner voice
Beckons me toward the door.
She draws all the attention
From within her group of friends.
I orbit from a distance,
So my presence won’t offend.
She shifts her gaze to meet someone
Who enters from the side.
I sigh in desperation,
Wishing it was me she eyed.
She welcomes him quite warmly,
Bringing him into the fold.
I curse my crippling shyness,
Knowing it’s not me she’ll hold.
Her hand meets his delicately
To lead him through the dance.
I’m petrified in silence,
Longing for a second chance.
Her partner is entranced by her.
She has him in her spell.
I wish I’d learned her name tonight.
It may have been Michelle.
I used to travel the Amtrak line between St. Louis and Chicago on a regular basis. On one trip, as we slowly rolled through the few remaining stops before reaching Chicago, a handsome stranger boarded the train and asked to take the empty seat next to me. I nodded politely to oblige and gestured for him to sit. I then shied away and sat in stoic silence the remainder of the trip.
Silence
Inspired by a beautiful mystery boy
It was an innocent request.
You simply asked to take a seat.
I motioned you to do just that,
Then quickly stared down at my feet.
You wore a shirt of baby blue.
With bronze skin peeking from beneath.
I longed to share a word with you,
But couldn’t speak through my clenched teeth.
My darting glances took good notes
Of perfect nails and dark black hair.
But I would rather turn your way,
Fix eyes on you, and simply stare.
Peeking over yellow sneakers,
I spy your ankles, and I grin.
It is exciting when I catch
A glimpse or two of your bare skin.
I’m jealous of the dark gray scarf
Beneath your smooth, clean-shaven face.
How fortunate your scarf must feel
To occupy that sacred space.
The music pumping in your ears
Prevents our dialogue to flow.
I wish I had the words for you,
But what they’d be, I do not know.
I notice that our denim jeans
Are tinted the same shade of blue.
Would you detect if my right knee
Moved over to brush into you?
We’ll never know what might have been
Because I gave my thoughts no voice.
My silence will win in the end,
Until I make another choice.
With each new election, I fear who will win the privilege to hold public office and what damage they may do with that privilege. I’m afraid preying on fear and sowing hate is viewed as the winningest strategy by too many elected officials. Although I’m afraid, I’m not hopeless. I know those who value equality and individuality far outnumber those who don’t. I know our government offices gradually welcome a greater diversity of lawmakers. I hope to draw strength from the examples of courage I see in those who live open, authentic lives, then increase the volume of my own voice to more effectively speak out against ignorance and hate.
Fear to Hope
Inspired by my struggle to remain hopeful during fearful times
I’ve lived a sheltered life, I know,
With full support along the way,
But there is fear buried below,
Because I happen to be gay.
It’s not a lifestyle choice I made,
And I tried hiding who I am.
Eventually, acceptance won,
Anything less was just a sham.
I have avoided, until now,
Contact with homophobic hate.
I fear my luck may soon run out,
Given our country’s current state.
When I let fear enter unchecked,
I sink into a pit of grief.
I’ve given up, before I start.
I am not armed to find relief.
But then I struggle to seek out
The better nature on display
By those working to make things right,
And pointing where we went astray.
Although there are those who persist
To prey on fear and sow more hate,
Their game plan is not built to last.
It has an expiration date.
As sheltered as my life has been,
And timid as my voice may be,
Its volume will increase, so hate
And ignorance will soon fear me.
Ever since Kyle Dean Massey visited St. Louis as Pippin, I’ve loved the musical’s song, Corner of the Sky, and its lyric, “Don’t you see I want my life to be something more than long…”
Impact
Inspired by the lyrics to Corner of the Sky from Pippin
Give in to doubt,
Or stand up straight?
Which choice will be
My final fate?
The doubting voice
Held sway so long.
I wonder now,
Can it be wrong?
It takes strong will
To mount a fight.
Uncertainty
Holds on too tight.
Can confidence
Break through the wall
While bashfulness
Keeps me so small?
I long to make
An impact here;
Waste no more time,
As it’s too dear.
My life should voice
My inner song,
And it should be
More than just long.
My inner voice constantly offers harsh criticism of my life and how I live it. I try, but seldom win the battle to silence it. When I have the opportunity to get out of my head and view the situation from another’s perspective, I earn a reprieve. I had the good fortune to hear from a group of friends who offered praise for some of my recent work. Hearing it greatly inspired me and lifted my spirits. I’m so grateful for their perspective.
Through Their Eyes
Inspired by the vision others see of me
Self-doubt retains possession
Of my life from day to day.
An ever-present obstacle
That never goes away.
I try to build my confidence,
To mute the doubt inside,
But nothing can consistently
Cause its voice to subside.
My mind defaults to dwell on
What pitfalls may lie ahead.
It doesn’t fuel hope, but
Magnifies my fear instead.
The doubtful inner voice may speak
Authoritatively,
But other voices wake new thoughts
To stir from within me.
I’ve friends who see in me
The best of what I’ve got to give:
Those traits uniquely mine,
That highlight why I’m here to live.
While it’s still hard to fight off doubt,
And seek out bluer skies,
The difficulty lessens when
I see me through their eyes.
When a coworker lost their 16-year-old son, I tried to imagine what it might be like to experience such an incomprehensible loss as a parent. I wrote this in that attempt to imagine their unimaginable situation.
Senseless
Inspired by incomprehensible loss
Of all the forms of senseless loss,
One sits atop the awful list.
For parents who have lost a child,
A valid reason can’t exist.
Subject to your theology,
You may seek prayer, or meditate.
But no amount of reasoning
Sufficiently explains your fate.
It seems almost impossible
To proceed without knowing why
The perfect soul that was your child
Is gone, and you must say goodbye.
The natural sequence of events
Is unbearably out of sync.
Our children shouldn’t pass on first.
When they do, what are we to think?
There are no answers to be found,
No matter how hard we may try.
The gift of life we’re granted here,
Becomes bleak when a loved one dies.
It’s my belief we are too close
To what transpires here on Earth
In order to view grander plans,
Where such senselessness may have worth.
We can’t make sense of things from here,
But from a higher vantage point,
The reason may appear more clear,
And not so wildly out of joint.
Although we can’t make sense of why
Their spirit left this Earthly space.
We know its purpose was to make
This world of ours a better place.
I lived with depression for a long time. Since I still function well enough to get through my day-to-day activities, I never dealt with it. I’m going to deal with it now.
Checked Out
Inspired by my gradual descent into depression
For more years than I will confess,
I sidelined myself from the game.
The life I could and should have led
Sat idle. No spark stoked its flame.
It happened very gradually,
And didn’t seem to cause much harm.
So I sat back and let things be,
Instead of sounding the alarm.
I’m functioning sufficiently
To navigate life day to day.
As long as I maintain my stride,
Is it so wrong to live this way?
If it were me, and only me,
Who suffered at my own expense,
I might continue down this road,
And give no thought to consequence.
I’m blessed with a close family though,
And with a wealth of loving friends.
If I let my life self-destruct,
Then I could never make amends.
So I will seek out how to best
Reanimate my stalled-out life,
And free it from this lonely spot
Where it was hopelessly jackknifed.
I live in fear every two years, anxiously awaiting the final result of that year’s election cycle.
Nonsense
Inspired by a world of increasing ignorance
Each couple years
I fear the fate
That follows our
Election date.
It used to seem
A nonevent.
That simpler time
Has come and went.
I wish I knew
What caused the change.
I’d then go back
To rearrange.
At present time,
We take the word
Of cheats and frauds,
Though it’s absurd.
We make no time
To check their claim
When our views mesh,
And that’s a shame.
They don’t plan to
Stand by our side.
Their only aim
Is to divide.
They tell us who
To fear the most,
And when we do,
They raise a toast.
That game plan though,
Miscalculates.
Our hope will soon
Outlive their hate.
In college, I had the very good fortune to meet one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Pat is a phenomenal person. I always admired his passion for life and the fearless way he pursues his dreams. I’m still not there yet, but I try to follow his example to the extent that I can. Shortly after graduating college, when I first began writing poetry, I came up with the title for this poem, but I never wrote a word of it until now, over 25 years later.
The Dreamer
Inspired by my incredible friend, Patrick
After the first encounter,
Their uniqueness draws you in.
You spend some time together,
And your friendship soon begins.
You very much admire
The self-confidence displayed.
As that trait quite eludes you
In your journey on most days.
Their passion is infectious
And inspires you to do
Whatever’s necessary
To make sure your dreams come true.
I have a friend whose spirit
Motivates in just this way.
Patrick’s courageous choices
Show how best to live each day.
His dreams are not just wishes.
With his drive, they become real,
Pursued without exception,
If it’s Pat behind the wheel.
I haven’t yet quite mastered
The skill set employed by Pat,
But I continue learning,
So don’t count me out quite yet.
He’ll always be there for me,
Ever present, year to year.
He’s one friend in a million,
And I hold him very dear.
Mom just celebrated her 80th birthday. We lost Dad at the end of 2020, and it’s been lonely without him, but Mom’s strength is unparalleled. She makes it very easy for me and my brothers to carry on, because the example she sets is so admirable. I talk with her every day, and she never misses the opportunity to tell me just how much she loves me. That means everything.
Mom
Inspired by and dedicated to Joanne Bride
Mom may not know the impact
She and Dad had on their sons,
But their example taught us
In ways none others have done.
She’s there for every moment,
Whether it be big or small,
And when we may need guidance,
She is there each time we call.
As youngsters, we could witness
The devotion on display
When she walked out the door
To live her purpose every day.
For nursing is her calling,
And she met the call with pride.
Her patients were quite lucky
To have our mom on their side.
A passion to make music
Also dwells within her heart.
Her prowess on accordion
Really sets her apart.
Mom dearly loves her family.
She opens her heart wide,
And for her grandkids, she displays
A special sense of pride.
Her faith in us is constant,
And it’s comforting to know,
On days we need encouragement,
We realize where to go.
Of all moms we could wish for,
She’s the best of every one,
And nothing makes me prouder
Than to say I am her son.
I’m the luckiest uncle in the world, because I have the three best nieces and the best nephew ever born. 😊 When Dad suggested we take the entire family to Disney World seven years ago, I had the greatest time experiencing the trip through their eyes. I bought a Goofy hat, which I wore the entire trip, and the kids thoughtfully addressed me as Uncle Goofy. They’re each perfect in their own, unique way, so I thought it was about time I wrote a little poem inspired by and dedicated to the four of them.
Quinn Willie
Inspired by Quinn
A soccer star
Who loves to sing.
Throughout the house,
His song will ring.
A tender heart
With love for all
That lifts you up
When you feel small.
Two arms to wrap
You in a hug,
And hold you tight;
All warm and snug.
The sweetest soul
You’ll ever meet.
Though others try,
They aren’t as sweet.
A joyful laugh
That brings a smile,
‘Cause joyfulness
Is just his style.
We surely hit
The jackpot when
Into our lives
Came charming Quinn.
Lou Lou
Inspired by Lauren
A gentle soul
Who loves to dance.
You’ll see her talent
At first glance.
A bundle of
Pure energy.
Can she sit still?
No, why would she?
The brightest smile
You’ve ever seen.
She should be on
A movie screen.
Our lives seemed fine
Before she came,
But actually,
Were rather lame.
She adds a spark
None other could.
So now our lives
Are extra good.
We’re lucky to
Have Lauren here,
And we hold her
So very dear.
Reegs
Inspired by Reegan
A real sweetheart
Who loves to climb.
A favorite way
To spend her time.
A big sister
Who serves as guide,
Is always on
Her brother’s side.
Her hugs will not
Squeeze you too tight,
‘Cause she prefers
Them extra light.
Full of politeness
Through and through,
She never misses
A thank you.
She has it all.
Not one thing lacks.
We love her to
The moon and back.
The luckiest
Of folks are we,
‘Cause Reegan’s in
Our family.
Phia
Inspired by Sophia
A smarty pants
Who loves to cheer,
Which she does 12
Months of the year.
A bookworm from
The very start,
Explaining where
She gets her smarts.
She loves all creatures
Big and small –
Cute, furry ones,
The most of all.
Her interests vary
Far and wide,
Exploring life
From every side.
A teacher to
The younger set,
She sets the best
Example yet.
Sophia is,
Quite honestly,
The best there is.
Take it from me.
I quite enjoy all the Irish blessings that have been written over the years. While reflecting on some of those, I decided to write a little poem inspired by Irish blessings, and by the many blessings I’ve enjoyed over the years. Erin go Bragh! Happy St. Paddy’s Day!
Lucky
Inspired by Irish blessings
May you feel
The brilliance of
A parent’s beaming pride,
Comforted
To know that they
Are always on your side.
May you know
The embrace of
A family’s loving hold,
Guiding and
Protecting you
Until you’re very old.
May you seek
The counsel of
Those friends you hold most dear,
Offering
You wisdom when
Your path becomes unclear.
May you have
The refuge of
A roof over your head,
Which includes
A table that
Contains your daily bread.
I have known
Such blessings in
My life over the years.
I’m lucky
Beyond measure.
I weep with grateful tears.
I habitually focus on the negative, instead of the positive, in the endless 24-hour news cycle we live in today. In the moment, it leads to continuous thoughts of doom and gloom spiraling out of control. Ultimately, it leads to hopelessness and inaction. I too easily descend down the rabbit hole of fearmongering, believing hate will win. It won’t. Thankfully, some news outlets highlight hopeful stories from time to time. Many people, especially young people, are extremely hopeful about their future. Their hopefulness about their own future can barely be contained, and while unbridled hopefulness may be a natural byproduct of youth, it’s not the exclusive property of the young. If they’re so hopeful about the future, I should be hopeful too. There’s more to be hopeful about than most of us realize. Hateful, not hopeful, just seems to get better press.
Focus
Inspired by the hate, and hope, in the world
I face the wrong direction.
Although my eyes gaze ahead,
I’m looking toward a future
That I’ve filled with fear and dread.
I do not look behind me
To regret the choices made,
But when I’m looking forward
What I see makes me afraid.
It isn’t a bright picture
Filled with sunshine and blue skies.
Instead, a world of chaos
Now appears before my eyes.
I give in to temptation,
And I buy into the fear
Our media is selling
Every day throughout the year.
But that’s not the full picture.
There is much hope to be found.
It may not garner headlines,
Yet it’s present all around.
An army of brave people
Can be seen guiding the way.
They’re leading by example,
Living honestly each day.
They do not hide their spirit,
But live openly, with pride.
They’ve proven, beyond measure,
Their lives cannot be denied.
Despite the work before us,
And the state the world’s in,
I’ll focus on these heroes,
And know hope, not hate, will win.