Neverending Thoughts

Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two

Warm, whimsical words of caring
often without my conscious decision.
Written in my dreams as if I had awoke,
yet always obscured by the fog of emotional rhetoric.

So I write the harsh letters onto paper,
forming words of both compassion and ignorance.
I find myself wondering if my soul was once dropped,
and the thousands of voices glimmered like mirrors.

“Oh yes” I think.

Perhaps a moment of indiscretion shattered my memory,
leaving it reflection upon itself, pondering again and again.
Worry, love, despair, hope, hate, care,
Every thought of myself having two sides of reality.

Desperation I would think.
To be the traveler who came to the fork in the road,
with no companion, save them self, to make a decision,
of left or right, order and chaos.

“Choose wisely” I pray.

I try for a moment to stop,
to keep still for a moment long enough to recollect where I am going.
Years pass, tender seconds create months of longing,
my mind kept in the oblivion of whirling serendipity.

Yet I find myself alone.
On a path to where I am not sure.
A cobbled route of perfect occurrence,
defining each step I take with unwritten words.

“Yet I care” I cannot forget.

I dare not let my memory falter,
should I remember that scent, that sound,
the amazing way everything felt oh so right.
I cannot fail to lose everything else, before I am found.

I will not find passion,
in the dark corners of lavish disregard,
but I will find it, if only I can dream as if…
I am awake.

A little poetic, a little life

Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts

To the people who try, the people who forgive. To the people who find themselves standing alone when they’ve done things right, but everyone thinks it is wrong. To the people who try, when trying means sacrificing the last breath you have.

Do not give up, do not lose hope. Do not give in, and do not let go. Keep true to yourself, the words and thoughts that make you who you are. Hold on to everything you believe in as if it is the only thing worth believing in. Your spirit will keep your compass true.

To the people who love, to the people who care. The people who hold themselves to standards that everyone else discards, the people who cherish the forgotten memories and the promises of the past. To the people who know what real friends are, when being a true friend means risking everything.

Do not forget, do not falter. Do not hold mistakes against yourself, but hold yourself to fix them. Do not try to become something you are not, only try to believe in something you have always been. Do not close your hand in a fist, only hold your hand open and lend it to those in need. Your heart will follow whatever lessons you embrace.

Try hard today. Try harder tomorrow.
If you do these things, this world will be a better place.

Those ideas define so much of my life.

Daily Poetry

Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two

Sometimes I have the urge to put myself in other people’s shoes… to think of how I would feel when the world was knocking on my door.

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I witnessed it all

You didn’t realize,
that day I was watching,
wondering if you knew my name.

You didn’t notice,
when I said my hello,
for the first time I spoke.

You didn’t care,
how I fumbled my words,
making myself seem so insane.

You didn’t know,
that my heart cared so,
even when I said good-bye.

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The ignorance of man

To all the women, who regardless of how they are treated in life, shine like brilliant diamonds under the brightest sun.
The ladies who work all day trying to create something amazing,
if not for themselves, then for the people they care for.

I cannot tell you, how daft I am to not know your beauty.

To all the women, who without pause find themselves in hours of effort, only to find themselves sitting alone with no one to talk to.
Beautiful, insightful souls who are quiet amongst an audience of strangers as they speak to themselves with such perfect voices.

I regret that I am, simply ignorant of things I should not be.

To all the women, who have no names,
the caring, the vibrant, the passionate souls,
who find it within themselves to help man find our errors,
even when, as often as we do, find ourselves lost among the blind.

I am, after all, a man. With my heartfelt apology.

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