Lovers
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Love, Spiritual
I have never known, anyone.
More beautiful, than you.
Hearing the sound of summer
escape your lips, heavy breathing.
Now I have dreamed,
feverishly throwing my desire,
into a moment that can never be trivial.
Yet the passion gone,
lost in a moment of serenity
with only your eyes watching,
Do I understand myself, of you and I,
as my heart becomes steady and strong.
I am not lost, merely carefree in my adoration
pondering the rhythym of your life
next to mine.
The Dreaming Memory of Clouds
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Dedicated Poems, Defiant, Loss, Love
Do not talk of love, not to me my dear heart.
I am not the one who lost itself, or tore down
everything I felt. Could not I choose to feel.
Do not dare, to illicit a response from me,
as I am trying to ignore you standing there,
waiting.
Do not care of me, you who stands in the rain.
Letting that cold air cleanse you,
as the freezing sentiment of solitude keeps my company.
Is this not fair? To hold myself away,
imprisoning my spirit above your defiant abandon,
as I listen to the soulful chatter of my dancing memories,
dreaming.
The Dreams of Youth
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Dreams, Spiritual
In our childhood, we are told
to dream of things that will never be.
Embrace the sentiment, the sub-conscious
and all the desires we have never spoken.
These are the lost moments of our wonderland,
the deep echo that thunders in our infancy.
Yet it is our world, the moment to be recalled,
as the birthday passes and our life becomes familiar.
It is within our innocence, that the figment is true,
that a warm embrace becomes and intimate reminder,
and we fall, never knowing, fast asleep.
Three weeks ago, a day no one else remembers
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts
Life has been a crazy roller coaster, up and down, good and bad. Yet the experiences of the past year have been pretty amazing. I’m sitting at the Sea-Tac airport slowly drinking a cup of coffee, watching people go by, chatting to the occasional wandering soul.
Life, both up and down is an incredible experience for some people. I was just telling some baggage clerk to keep take her dreams back into her own hands. She wanted to be a lawyer, yet here she is asking for my photo ID and getting farther from her goal. I wonder, if she had a dream, if she could see it like I do, would she take it?
I don’t know. I guess some people aren’t built like that. The risk isn’t worth the reward, yet they don’t know the reward. They don’t know what its like to wake up in the morning and feel invigorated, to have a room full of people commending you on some remarkable talent, or having the karma you feel when you struggle to reach a goal and finally have it in your hands.
I may be crazy, if not strange. I don’t mind anymore. I like being different and a little expressive. My son was sad that I had to leave for the weekend and that he wouldn’t see me. Something about a five year old hugging you and saying he loves you, that he’ll miss the icon of his world.
That is a lesson in life few ever learn. The understanding that people outside of yourself still care when you are gone. Oddly, that is my theme of the evening.
As I kissed my son on the forehead and said good-bye for the weekend, I knew why there was a caring part of my soul. My mom. I told my son I love you, and as he pulled away in the car I told my mom I love her too. Strange thing is she’s been dead for four years now. She may not be here, but the care she gave me as a kid taught me a little bit about how I needed to be as an adult.
Five minutes later my brother called. He didn’t have a reason for calling, except to find out how my week had gone. My bro and I have had a strange adult relationship, having been roommates at 21 thru 23, he was my best man at my wedding (even though he looked like a mafia hitman), and he has always offered a hand whenever he can. We talk about the strangest of things, but that’s what makes us brothers.
An hour later I sat down at my computer, wondering what I should toss in my bag. I had a couple of mementos that I always take for giggles, and a friend popped up on my IM screen and then disappeared without saying a word. I haven’t talked to them for six months, I wonder why they never reach out. I tried to for months, I would have tonight, but instead I just have to be sad for them and that they can’t express themselves. Some people have a hard time caring when they are in rough spot. I hope they are doing well.
My friend Mark drove me down to the airport, we comically debated the strange aura of American politics on the way down as we commented on his new car. As always, we just sort of muttled through every topic that came to mind as friends should. As we pulled into the airport another friend called to say she would miss me this weekend, apparently she’s finally got a free weekend from her classes and I’m jet setting off to New Orleans instead.
Mark came inside the airport for a few minutes. We sat inside the airport lounge sipping slowly on our drinks as people wandered by and we kept jumping our conversation from topic to topic. Eventually we were both done and we watched this incredibly dumb airport video on noise pollution at Sea-Tac.
He left around 11… and I wandered through the airport security where I stopped for ten minutes and had a chat with the incredibly bored airline checkers. It is Thursday night after all, and few people take these flights. I cracked a few jokes, made them give a chuckle or two, then proceeded to put my shoes on (its amazing what jokes go with having bare feet in an airport). One of the poor women was blushing so badly that I almost felt sorry for her…but she was laughing too hard for me to apologize.
I’m getting on the plane now, thinking about all the people that have become part of my life. For every one I can’t see or talk to, for every one I care about, and for everyone who has ever cared about me… I’ll always remember that I choose to keep the best part of our friendships, my relationships, my family, and my love, closely held in my mind and my heart when I travel throughout my life.
Unique Things
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts
I don’t always remember what I can be, in fact the words that meander through my head often make me pause for a brief second and wonder why I choose to be a little different.
I think for the most part, that being different is better than being anything else. If someone could compare me to anyone, I would hope that I break the mold they are trying to place me into.
I am not a rebel. Nor am I special. I am unique. A person who laughs at the commercials of life, watching each thirty second blip of my existence as I should be understanding a message within it. I try to understand life so that when a perfect moment comes by, I will recognize it and witness it for how unique it is.
I wonder if people realize how amazing that statement is, that every moment is unique, as are you. Every second and every minute is a chance to experience something no one else has, and every experience is a chance to share with someone else.
If I could teach, as I often try to do, I would stop by the wandering soul and say hello. I would offer, to try, not for knowing whether I would succeed in some great task, but so that I would know I experienced life, unique and perfect, with someone else as unique and perfect as I am.
But the world is full of uniquely perfect people. Wonderful examples of friendly faces bumping into me as I try to figure out the road map to my life.
Perhaps, if I am unique, then the perfect nature of this thought is lost to only me. Yet then again, if I am unique, I can only hope that someone reads this and experiences one unique train of thought by experiencing their own unique train of thought.
Isn’t life grand? 
Tessa, a dream
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Loss, Love, Regret
Could one believe, to never reach,
Having known everything so close.
You were perfect, beyond adoration.
Yet I had to go, from restful dreams I awoke.
My soul was yours, lost figment that wasn’t real,
The moment you showed me what I couldn’t have.
Closed doors, open trails,
How could I never question leaving?
I tried to believe, to deny this world,
As my heart remembered your lesson.
You were such a wonderful teacher,
Having never known your only student.
I had gone, to a place far away,
The dreaming of a silent land,
A glimmer of desire that broke my thought.
Yet like time, you feel through my hand
So soft, so impossible to hold forever,
As I tried to demand, without reason
Do not dream like I, no do not.
For my heart was lost upon the way, so far gone.
Just rest dear one, keep your perfection,
In a moment of blissful ignorance, your innocence.
Do not hesitate to cry one heartfelt sound,
As I fall into this remembrance, the silence of my life.
The Lost Fool
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Loss
I have often been called a fool,
Heartfelt and whimsical.
Can one remember how joyous the hope,
Wanting to be held, to be cherished.
I would laugh until I stand no longer,
If only I could wait until I find my humour.
I dare to believe, in something more,
The beginning of summer at winter’s end.
To embrace a sunset, deeply colouring my world,
In so many hues, so brilliant a light.
That perhaps my blindness is symptomatic,
Of only seeing black and white.
Remember me, I wonder.
Does anyone care to forget me
As I have forgotten myself.
Day by day, one more path explored
One more route left behind.
Dear fool, nothing is yours to find.