Conversational Coffee
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee, Coffee - Volume One, Friendship
Those subtle thoughts
the little words
Smiling
Laughing
Relaxing
Over coffee,
at your favorite little cafe
Remembering I’m not Irish
but some of us like our latte
Knowing
Feeling
Believing
Sharing some of those crazy dreams
sometimes drinking it dark
sometimes with cream
Thinking of all those meaningless things
that only you can remember I said
simple conversation is what to bring
Over coffee,
at your favorite little cafe
Remembering
Laughing
Believing
In little words
with heartfelt meaning
In subtle thoughts
with friendly needing
Poetic Riddle
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Creative Writing, Dedicated Poems, Inquisitive, Mystery, Spiritual
Upon midnight’s glow to these dreams you should know
To be adored, would you never hear it evermore
And while I thought my words became entwined with this heart
As if no one could hear the gentle beating missing
No this heart was not fleeting nor would it be lost in lore
Upon these dreams I heard the sound, gently saying this verse once more
A beat so strong that it became not yet like a song
Touching it’s memories, to be loved and belong
While singing this rhyme to which it had never rehearsed
Belonged just a sound that was lost from the start
Confused and beguiled, it became lost and wild
“But could it be remembered” I asked, to be lost like a child
This riddle of falling would not lead to sorrow
Yet tomorrow would entice a heart to answer with time
Long before reversal of reason or the knock at the door
Would it be answered, could it be ignored
No it was chance to perhaps lead to more
A never knowing envy to be quietly ablaze
Whom to this heart could ever believe
This was not the reason nor was it me
The poetry of describing love became like a maze
But faith believed was not a treason of the soul
Merely momentary relief of being adored
One can say it was stolen, if not by will or by chance
No sound could be lost, as if in silence was grief
Reason regardless, it led to living and dance
If a heart would forget, I’d be labeled a thief
To sing of the chances, of kisses, and romance
For the beat was the pen and the sound was it’s worth
Believing in poetry so forceful it would always come forth
When years became wisdom and the silence became broken by tears
Yet two hearts had parted, a sudden confusion of fear
Half one part, the song lacked an end for the start
Forever needing singing, never needing anymore
This sound of quiet became the question foretold
Never forgetting dreaming and the reasons too cold
Pale grew the sound beating at the season’s door
Questioning the dreaming of becoming something more
Creative writing about a friend
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume One, Creative Writing, Daily thoughts, Friendship
I found a kindred spirit. Apparently covered in ash, merely keeping an ember burning while the wind of life attempted to wash the vibrancy of it’s flame from the world. It was quiet yet enticing. Few would have dreamt the subtle glow slowly fading into dream could again breath. Few could have realized such passion could exist in a spark of life that many didn’t even acknowledge.
But life, like all dreams – is something that possesses both passion and desire. The smallest of which gives us the power to find ourselves. It gives us the chance to breathe each day and explore the world as we see it. More importantly it gives us the ability to see the figments of life that were originally pieces of our dream, yet now they exist in life because of our own heartfelt desire.
In this kindred spirit I have found such a piece of life. I see within a single ember a brilliant blazing glory, a fire that leaves my meager heart in awe, a passion for life that wants to consume everything before it. This untamed vibrancy could change the face of the world and everyone who sees it if only they took a moment to care.
As for now, it is an ember. Covered in ash. Unnoticed by so many.
How are so many flames left uncared for?
My Dreams
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Daily thoughts, Dreams, Spiritual
My Dreams
Midnight screaming
I lost it tonight
Firefight dreaming
Eyes closed in fright
Shadows gleaming
Tapping on the wall
My mind’s gleaning
Nightmares down the hall
Hurt and alone
No one can hear
Is this a home
Why is no one near
Was that a kiss?
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Inquisitive, Romantic
This one was written because I got caught writing about romance in the Sunset last night and I thought there was something worth writing about. It started out as a section of the above poem, but then became something itself – more aligned to the idea of what a real kiss embodies.
Was that a kiss?
What passion can be felt in brushing your cheek
Dreams are not gone when my eyes are closed
What thoughts I remember as I feel the pause in your breathing
Dreams are so real when I know you are there
What emotion can be created by a simple fragrance
Dreams are vivid when I feel you so close
What fire can be given to a thought so small
Dreams are beyond description when our lips touch
What can I tell you of that day we said hello
Dreams are not forgotten when we said good-bye
Silent Rhapsody
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Defiant, Spiritual
Some people express themselves in action far more than they do in words. I used to be a lot more expressive in action and inaction. I did a lot of art and creative things, yet often my silence had more to say than I ever realized about myself. As a hit the end of my teenage years I realized a lot about myself and the things I kept within me. But occasionally others could read my silence like I was shouting at the top of my lungs.
Silent Rhapsody
Silent expression so little words
Sometimes laughing even unheard
Wanting desire written like a book
Simple silence with heartfelt look
Words lacking all but a voice
Staying silent is sometimes choice
Personal desire falling to subtle echoes
Others never hearing what only I know
The navigator
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Creative Writing, Defiant, Spiritual
There was a moment in my life when I failed
I tried to do something that was impossible
My body wouldn’t move anymore, it was beyond exhaustion
I had pushed myself to the breaking point and far beyond
Exceeding my limit, I lost sight of who I was
But most importantly I distanced myself from everyone
For a short while I believed in defining who I was alone
Yet for this solitude I discovered not who I was
Simply marking the point that I could not pass
I forced my dreams to carry my corpse
Farther than anyone should ever travel alone
I managed to mend broken bone with an unbreakable will
But as my spirit slowly failed my body became still
My hope could not resist the plea of hearing no voice
As the only sound I witnessed was simply my faded and shallow breathing
A soul half awake and half insane
Trying to find itself a light to signal the way
Yet the flame to which it was lured had never faultered
and I learned without doubt or hesitation,
that my heart would always choose to stay
Amnesia my Ambrosia
Posted by Barry Hurd in Loss, Spiritual
Colorful figments of my life I find
Vivid and unique just one of a kind
Within illusion these images simple to define
Bottomless and empty like this bottle of wine
Does this elixir of living become simply mine
Learning to believe there is nothing divine
Invading my memory like unwanted vines
Losing the passion if not my mind
Disbelief
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee, Daily thoughts, Defiant, Love
Finding real beauty of outright simplicity and incomparable features.
Of charming flaws and details which can never go unnoticed.
Possessing subtle variations that are by themselves memorable.
Viewing simply makes you wonder if this is a figment of desire.
Chance occurrence that beauty such as this exist defies imagination.
It warms your soul and inspires you to gently caress it in disbelief.
Touching lets you know this isn’t a dream but is indeed extraordinary.
The vibrant sensation you feel is your heart breaking the denial it yearns.
Hearing that such beauty has a voice enlightens your senses.
You tell yourself such remarkable qualities do not happen in reality.
Everything you know to be true says that you are dreaming.
Yet somehow this is mistakenly real and effortlessly tangible.
This transcendent dream is standing in front of you in essence.
You are simply touching something that shouldn’t exist.
Tidal
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Loss, Spiritual
I watched in awe as the waves came in
They were like shouting voices beating against the rocks
Crowds gathered to witness the glory of the sea
Not yet realizing the power to which they may perceive
So many broken souls listened to the power
Immense and unstoppable as it battered the world
They heard it as if it was part of them
Shouting to be heard by the defiance of reality
You could see the faces and find those who felt lost
These few onlookers who were not part of the crowd
They were uniquely different, willing to not come back
As they were ever witness to the real fury of the world
These brave few souls were the survivors of fate
It was a secret they held and almost never shared
Souls needing to be free and search for what they lack
They stared into the sea and their gaze did not return