“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.
Vampire’s Lust
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Lust, Romantic
This bloodlust of dreaming, it wakes within me
Midnight and feeding I think only of thee
Steady rhythm of beating I wait through the day
Do not fear your breathing, I’ll steal it away
Beautiful screaming it’s like living the song
Panic and fear, you know to me you belong
Warm delay of beating I hear a skip of your heart
Laughing within I know you life will soon depart
Cold like a killer I may strike within the hour
Within this thirst is only a hunger to devour
One Tick of Silence
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Defiant, Spiritual
Subtle thoughts I heard you well
This room so silent as if in grief
No rustling disturbance of life going on
Patience in the quiet and waiting so brief
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A place so open without drifting sounds
Peaceful as the dreams I’m thinking now
Never making noise so these thoughts drown
Hearing not the sound of believing how
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Penchant for dreaming does this silence bring
Whispers never heard and probably imagined
I’m listening to echoes of wandering things
These sounds that end before they begin
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Can these dreams of subtle noises be mine
Are they dancing in shadows and rhyme
When do these phantoms reveal what they do
These nights are numbered, a clock tick in time
Colorful Thievery
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Dedicated Poems, Inquisitive
Colorful hue where are you
Can I see that beautiful shade again
Deeply touching I stole you
From the dream of the vibrant glen
Who do you show such glamour
Do I need to bargain for this sight
A view without discovery
You simply define the light
Beautiful shades of color
Fading simply into the night
Angel’s Never Knowing Beautiful
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Regret, Romantic, Spiritual
Thoughts so subtle she couldn’t hear
She had beauty beyond what could be said
Never knew I was thinking of wishing her near
She had beauty beyond what could be said
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Never said never said
The reasons behind were the reasons ahead
Never said never said
Beauty so bold it could never be said
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Smiling and laughing she had beauty so bold
Words couldn’t voice what needed to be said
Never could I dream of telling the truth to be told
Words couldn’t voice what needed to be said
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Dreaming of embracing an angel to hold
She would never know the reason not told
Speaking a dream that was far too bold
The reasons I couldn’t speak the truth so cold
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Words couldn’t voice what needed to be said
The reasons behind were the reasons ahead
She would never know the reason not told
Beauty so bold it could never be said
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