Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume Two, Loss, Love, Survival
I remember the day very clearly, there was a fine mist in the air and the morning dew formed droplets of water on the brim of my hat as I bowed my head. I was doing everything I could to remember a better place, trying to forget the memories that caused the tears on my face to fall into the puddle of rainwater at my feet.
I thought to myself as I asked so many questions, trying to comprehend the way the way everything except me seemed so vibrant. Even the grass seemed so beautiful and green, so lavish in texture that the voice in my head wanted to talk about anything but what I felt inside. I heard voices in the background, the soft tone of an older man trying to comfort the people around me.
I heard so many words that were simply absorbed by the grief my heart felt. The words “I’m so sorry” must have been uttered so many times that I questioned if the truth I was holding onto inside my chest was simply insanity.
I would ask myself, could love prevail? Standing amongst a crowd of compassionate strangers reminded me that I was now alone more than ever. I was the lost love, the sweet soul who gambled his heart away on trying to adore a child that would never breathe again.
My words at the time made little coherent sense. I tried to convey the way a man should care for his life, his family. Yet I cried. The fateful act of death had taught me a lesson that I never cared to learn:
That one should love, not for the expectation of love, but to feel something that can only be experienced alone as you accept how much it truly meant to you.
E.E. Cummings
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Daily thoughts, Other Poets
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
| i fear |
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
The Neverending Poet
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume Two, Inquisitive, Spiritual
This was without reason or rhyme
A sudden outburst of emotional rheatoric
Fueled by desire, and hidden urges
My thoughts were dark, far more insidious than creative
Yet I wrote each harsh letter, and none of them I could read
They left me wondering if my soul was making me bleed
Oh yes, my addiction to the phrases of my mind
The passionate lust my heart needed to express
and the worry, despair, envy, inspiration, hope, love, and utter lack of self regard
Fueled my hands to fly across the paper trying to capture each thought
Leaving behind letters of red that seemed all too black
The darkest thoughts of myself being burned into reality by desperation and obsession
I tried to stop, to keep myself from cutting my own body against the edges of the world
My mind screamed out of control as my body became sore and numb
and yet my will was shattered by the chaotic barrage of unlabelled feeling
Life became a canvas, spinning in a whirling of color and embelishment
A dream of oblivion that could define itself over and over again,
finding a description for each random idea without any pause
And yet I would be left alone
A simple artist to some
A poet to others
I would be everything they could define me to be
with a reputation, perhaps with even status or false title
and I would think of myself as barely having started
A boating we will go…
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Daily thoughts
This has nothing to do with poetry…
Forgotten
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume One, Creative Writing, Daily thoughts
I never thought this blood would come off. I tried but failed. I saw your face so motionless that it crept into my soul. You were so young. So pretty. You looked like you should be laughing with friends or running like the wind. Why did you do it? Why? Couldn’t you keep it together just one more day? Someone would have cared. Someone. Anyone. I cared. You didn’t even know me. I cared so much that I begged you to come back. I didn’t even know your name. Why did you let go? I’m sorry this world blinded you. I’m sorry this world was blinded by you. You deserved to be seen. Everyone does. You deserve so much more than to lay here by yourself cold and alone. You were never alone. You were never alone.Â
“Pays de cocagne” (Never Never Land)
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume One, Friendship, Spiritual
This dream I had was not an illusion
It was not some mirage that settled my soul
No it was more like a vibrant scene that gave me life
A life so enriched that everyone I loved was here by my side
Can I tell you of this place that only I can see
You do not need to fly to believe in this place with me
No you don’t even need to let your feet leave the ground
You can see this place of fantastic things I found
I created this vision with an imagination so dear
That I could share it with everyone I hold near
Close your eyes and let yourself become a visitor
To this wonderful fantasy that only we can know
Do not dare to think that this place is not within you
I could not try to describe the beauty that I see within us
I would only try to give you this map within your heart
For this figment you dreamt with me I share with you
This feeling of knowing this dream so real
Something that could make both of us fools or even insane
You may realize that we may indeed believe in the surreal
Perhaps even believe of creations that would be inane
But the only thing we need is to allow ourselves to feel
To understand that nothing is everything and only we can see
We will each believe in something different and wildly free
Our souls will always see shades of color with different hue
But what I know of this place will simply be forever within me
If I ever can tell you anything about this place found in dreams so far
Is that places like this we share with each other is who we are
That our dreams and our life is a place of incredible view
And that you’ll never stop knowing, I believe in you
Why can I be different, an inspiration to life
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume One, Creative Writing, Daily thoughts, Spiritual
Someone once told me that they couldn’t live this life. They told me there was something different. I thought to myself- is this life not whatever we make of it? Is it nothing more than a second of time or a moment of thought? Can it not be defined how I choose to? Am I not the master of who I am?
The words they spoke seemed so tied to a single path, not realizing that every step forward could be a different one. That every step could be in any direction including backwards. I looked at them and felt so troubled that my passion for doing things for the people I cared about was not clear. I wanted nothing more than to give them a moment of enlightenment to show them that all roads are not equal, yet all roads are as unique as you make them.
My soul and who I am doesn’t feel constrained; I am not a god yet I can choose to do anything. Every path is mine to choose. Yet every moment of moving down a path is defined by one thing.
Who will I share it with? Who amongst the millions of people will this path be shared? Will they realize that the path I have taken leads me to them not by coincidence but by choice? Will they understand that the moment I spent with them was special and unique? Will they believe in knowing that they can do anything, be anyone, and become something greater than I can imagine?
Do they know they can change into anything and that they can choose any path? I don’t know. But I believe. I believe that the faces of every unique person in my life are wonderful ones. As unique as I am.
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?
Describing Beautiful
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume Two, Creative Writing, Daily thoughts, Romantic
If I could tell you how simply beautiful you are, if there was a way for a moment, a fraction of a second…to let you know how perfectly graceful your soul is…
I would ask myself ‘Do I think you are beautiful’
and I would answer, without pause or hesitation-
‘Without a doubt’
Quiescence Rose
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Coffee - Volume One, Dedicated Poems, Spiritual
Some people are born quiet. Every action they take is toned down. The real them is hidden by a veil of silence or simply muffled under a flurry of noises. I used to be like this. To the point that I often didn’t share my voice with anyone. I occasionally see it now in other people and I know some of the feelings and expressions that are quietly there. I recognize them as if I was looking into a mirror of my own actions in the past. It makes me wonder how I became quiet or whether or not I ever had way to express what I was thinking appropriately. I still find myself in this role often; it is in fact my very internal nature to be quiet. Yet I have learned that some of the best opportunities of my life have been based on communicating my needs and discovering the needs of my friends around me.
Quiescence Rose
Tranquil calming oddly soothing
Hidden temper gently seething
Measured demeanor patiently breathing
Pleasing nature untroubled to see
Hurtful words serene as the rain
Laughing gale sedated by pain
Inner voices held agreeable and composed
No one realizing the void I call rose
Beautiful silence loved by some to be
With dangerous thorns known only by me