Poetry 101 - What is the Light?

This poem was more of a fleeting thought that I had on the trolley coming home from a hard day at work. Looking at it again after 10 years, I can't even remember all the underlying events that caused me to put these thoughts to paper. I'll let the reader decide if it makes any sense in their lives.


What Is The Light?

The mind of the light is encased in a shield
so hardened and tough no secrets does it yield.

Looking in, no one knows what her thoughts really mean.
blurry shadows, drifting smoke, no reality seen.

Why this hiding of feelings that run deep and true
what harm to revealing the desires that accrue.

does the mind of the light search far and wide
or does it look for the answers down deep inside.

but this mystery of light is all good and right
the secrets of light should be hidden out of sight.

The strength of the light is in the knowing it's there
not in the laying on the table of all there is to bare.

When doubts arise and show their ugly faces
remember that the light is here and not in other places.

The Old Guy
12 Mar 2001

Poetry 101 - Expectations

All of the current problems that I am having with my Atomic Mall Store because of the new google feed rules have been driving me nuts. Then I remembered this poem from years ago that I had written when I was having some issues over which I had no control and no choice but to sit and wait for others to take care of them. Same situation I'm in now. Reading it has calmed me down a little and I pass it along to anyone else who may be interested. Feel free to share it if you want.


EXPECTATIONS

Why do I feel so bad
Or maybe even sad.

When others do not do
The things I want them to.

I need to reconsider
Why I do feel so bitter.

I know I don't control
How others walk or stroll.

My life alone I need to heed
Let others march to their own creed.

So hard to need another
To help you like a mother.

We were all made to want
Someone to lean on even haunt.

So hard to love without demands
Not to touch with heated hands.

To retreat back into self
And fence back out the masses.

A danger there I do not want
It makes my blood molasses.

I guess there is no answer here
Life's always frought with fear.

The pain I feel may not be nice
But feeling not would hurt me twice.

The Old Guy
14 Mar 2001

Thanks for listening.... ☺☺☺☺

Poetry 101 Sunday Night

Sunday Night

Once again the stirring and the light sit down together in the night.
His strength wore down by weeks work pile.
He needs her for a little while.
He reads his rhymes of life and love.
She listens quiet as a dove.
Her eyes they twinkle oft with joy.
Does she listen or does she toy.
He looked into those pools of brown.
Wondering if her mind does frown.
Each poem he does recite with fire.
Hoping in her creation to inspire.
The time is short. She will not dally.
Her evenings wants within her rally.
The time has come to part and go.
He bids her luck both high and low.
Then walks away his home to go.
The Old Guy
18 Mar 2001

Poetry 101 - Life At Night

Another effort to relive my poet years. I'll let you be the judge.


Life At Night

All day she thought about the night
The fun and noise and drinks in sight.

She wanted but to party
To make her life more hearty.

What drew her to this crowd
So drunken and so loud.

Did she feel some hidden need
To erase the world or from it speed.

Those thoughts are left from other years. The habits hard to break.
She fears the pains of daily life. The effort she can't make.

If life is one big party, No problems need she face.
So every night she hurries there. To join the endless race.

No faces she need love, Nor rejections pain to feel.
No reminders of commitments, That were never, ever real.

In this the faces are alike. They want no pain, not yet.
And so they run around each night. Not to worry or to fret.

The Old Guy
17 Mar 2001

Feel free to share if you like and thanks for listening....

Poetry 101 - Boxes in the Mind

About five years ago I went through a period of personal growth (I think), that was accompanied by an overwhelming compulsion to put pen to paper and write poems that just seemed to fit whatever I had running through my head that day. When I started this blog I included one whenever the mood struck me and I have decided to revive the practise. Here goes Poetry 101, penned to reflect the chaos of that day. Of course as time has passed I have no idea what it was. Thanks for listening...

Would it not be easier
If we had boxes in our minds.

One box for home and one for work
Another for surprise to find.

A box for play and one for sleep
Maybe one to shout and leap.

If only we could live
In one box at a time.

Alas we always in the others
Seem to want to climb.

The boxes in a row do sit
The lids however do not fit.

The boxes only work
If we keep them far apart.

But then our lives would not calm be
But hardened at the heart.

The Old Guy
16 Mar 2001

Poetry 101 - Choices

I wrote this during a period when I knew that I had to make some dramatic changes in my life and I knew that many choices had to be made. Only God knows whether I made the right ones. I certainly don't.

I apologize to anyone who may be offended by my choice of words.

CHOICES

life is full of choices
advised by many voices.

should we laugh or should we cry
should we shout or should we sigh.

shall we rise or stay in bed
live by heart or by head.

eat our food sweet or tart
suffer pain or let a fart.

do we walk or will we run
making choices is no fun.

will we sleep or lust this night
bake a cake or fly a kite.

go to school or play some pool
make wrong choices play the fool.

will we dress or naked stay
make a choice straight or gay.

all day long i strive to see
what choices are alright for me.

The old guy
11 mar 2001

thanks for listening....the old guy

Poetry 101 - The Lonely Mailbox

I wrote this for myself one day while I was on my pity pot waiting for a letter from a friend.

I now dedicate it to all of our servicemen and women and to those at home who wait anxiously for mail.

in my front yard there sits an object so forlorn
it very often wonders why that it was ever born

every day it stands & waits its door is always open
and deep inside its metal hide its heart is always hopin'

it knows that somewhere out in space a missive is enroute
someday soon it will arrive and slide right down its chute

but alas it seems as if that day will never come
But if it does there is no doubt that it will really hum

every day i speak to it and bid it not to cry
i tell it that our friend will write and that is not a lie

now the man has stopped in front he's looking in his bag
he looks at us and shakes his head our spirits they do sag

where are the words That we have waited long for
the news that she's still happy & that her spirits soar

when they do come the little mailbox sitting all alone
will sing and dance and leap about never more to moan.

More from the old guy

thanks for listening .........

Poetry 101 - The Watcher in Your Soul

Another one of my feeble attempts at creativity. this one was for a friend who was going through a tough time in her life. I debated over the title, I was going to use "The Guardian Angel" , but somehow this seemed more appropriate. (Don't ask me why because I don't have the slightest idea).

THE WATCHER IN YOUR SOUL

thoughts and feelings you may hide

but there is one who's at your side.

it knows you well, this loving spirit.

it speaks not words, but you can hear it.

when things you do might bring you shame,

it tries to keep your actions tame.

with love it's been there many years

through joy and sadness, smiles and tears.

it shares your pain when you do wrong

and when you're good breaks out in song.

though you can't see this guardian sprite,

it's waits down deep to still your fright.

the warmth that comes from this sweet guide

will keep you safe and turn the tide

to help you find your lifelong goal

you have a watcher in your soul.

the old guy

to the light

09 May 2005

Feel free to share.

thanks for listening.....

Poetry 101 - English Breakfast Tea

---

I wrote and dedicated this poem to a group of ladies who were living together in a substance abuse rehabilitation center trying desperately to find a new way of life. I gave it to them with the tea and hope that it made at least one day a little brighter.

---

When the sun comes up and I awake
my vision blurs and my head does ache
i know the cure, which i do need
it's warm and sweet and does the deed
To the kitchen i must drag
this body sore, face like a hag
in the cupboards do i search
moving slowly with a lurch
Then there it is, right in my eye
"thank you lord" My mouth does cry
now to the stove i swiftly stride
to warm this brew and save my hide
i sip it slow and feel the heat
my dormant heart begins to beat
a mix of love and soothing be
this cup of English Breakfast Tea

the old guy 7 May 2005

thanks for listening...

Poetry 101 - A Moment In Time

I'm afraid I feel the urge to entertain you with another of my rare ventures in creativity. This one was intended to describe my feelings about a few short moments I would often share with a dear friend after closing up the Antique Mall for the day. It was a quiet calming time that usually washed the day trials and tribulations from my mind. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

A MOMENT IN TIME

Between My work and nightly sleep
a time of comfort seems to creep.

just 30 minutes - one half hour
serves to calm and offer power.

speaking with a friend at ease
we sat together in the breeze.

we sipped hot drinks and watched the crowd.
Occasionally we thought out loud.

i talked and talked and rambled on
i would have kept her to the dawn.

i know not what i said to her
the time went by just like a blur.

i sensed her need to run and play
i knew i'd lose her anyway.

with heavy heart and racing mind
i said farewell i would not bind.

my friend she raced across the street
into the crowd a need to meet.

The Old Guy
18 Mar 2001

Feel free to share it if you like, thanks for listening.

Poetry 101 - Circles of Life

I warned you that I would make some personal posts here from time to time. I am an occasional poet (I'll let you decide how good). This is a poem I wrote a few years ago for a friend whose cancer had just came back out of remission. She's still around and as far as I know doing OK. I just have an urge to share it with you. If you find some meaning that you enjoy feel free to copy it or share it with someone who it might help feel better.

Circles Of Life

Around each of us a circle flows.
It touches others as it grows.
All around its border line
Other circles try to dine.

Some join us in some little way
Others we see every day.
Some we never let inside
From a few we try to hide.

Constantly the circles spin
Some roll out and others in.
As life goes on some circles bust
Becoming ashes in the dust.

With a few we coincide
Then with others we collide.
Parts of our circle sacred are
In others rest some hidden scar.

Each circle must stand well alone
In order to another clone.
To want another circle”s fine
To need it though's a shaky line.

No circle should another chain
The more you touch the less you drain.
Some circles seem to come to you
Others you may need pursue.

Lose a few, win one or two
Always some will cling to you.
In every one does wisdom ride
Take what is good cast rest aside.

Fear not the day that you may die
For parts of you in others lie.

The Old Guy
23 Mar 2001

Thanks for listening.