Lessons of Humanity
Posted by Barry Hurd in Blog, Featured, Honor, Loss, Survival
With a moment of time,
came judgment, not of those lost
but of those who live
.
The virtue of free will,
abandoned to inaction,
of emotionless life
.
Our chance to believe
not in faith, nor of unseen things
but of ourselves
.
In the children,
basked in a history
of defiance and infamy
.
The name of atrocity
becoming notorious words
of our limitless resolve
.
This bane, no this malevolent crisis
which some care not, will not,
remember and learn
.
As we know,
as we always hold dear
sweet memory, never forgetting
.
In this time, the vein hope
to care of ourselves
and of others
.
To find that moment of definition
when we, never alone, always together,
become the decisions of who we are
.
Finding ourselves to be better,
knowing care, hope, peace, acceptance, forgiveness,
Provide us to lead our world to something better.
Last Stand
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Honor, Survival
Last Stand
In paradise, we find the most reward
The light of hope and of morning resurrection,
Of daring that we, above all else,
Are the chosen few who must survive.
The land, from rolling hills to perfect ocean shores,
Is the vision to which we will wake,
We will seek our destiny, with laughter and humility,
Against the fury of breaking waves,
As our spirits pound against the swords of man,
And our honor finds itself spoken only in passing.
The trial of our lives, the question of our existence
Found only in moments of recollection
By those who would be our family,
Without ever having embraced us in hand,
But owing us everything in heart.
The very trial of our existence, our very purpose,
Written into history, by our actions and our beliefs.
To be remembered and embraced,
Fueling our passion in such sacrifice,
That we, the few, have given our lives.
The way people live
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Creative Writing, Daily thoughts, Dreams, Friendship, Honor, Survival
I don’t get too much time these days to stop and smell the roses, sometimes however sweet they are. Rather I ask myself if I remember what roses smell like. Ironically, I find myself lacking that memory. People often fail to realize if they will miss the moments of life they love, and yet I look at things and find myself terrified of losing even my past, the warm scent of life that made me smile.
What does that mean? it means I actually miss the people I care about. I miss them a lot. Unlike many people who take moments of living for granted, I take every second as if it were a treasure… the kind you would covet as a child and hide away from all danger, both real and imaginary.
This is not something that passes, for me at least, part of who I am is locked in a moment of perfect clarity. In a fear of forgetting every perfect moment, I sometimes find them haunting. Yet I feel that strange desire of actually having something worth holding, something worth sacrifice and triumph. Something worth the very tears that remind me how my heart feels.
I find myself struggling on a daily basis to reach the goal of being triumphant… of feeling it… and when I try to succeed I am aware that my efforts were too late… that I failed. Realizing I have failed someone I cared about is brutal reminder that my duty is not something that I can ignore or that I can set aside. I am better than that.
Some people refer to me as a healer, a person of serendipitous nature and exact purpose. I am a catalyst of sorts, the person people interact with to produce a reaction of unusual results.
This leads me to a question that has been asked of me before, “what is my purpose in life?”
I seem to be a conduit. Something that is not a destination, but a place of action where one does not stop. My nature provokes people into moving from A to B, and there are no stops where I am. That has always been my life, a place where people never have time to smell the roses.
I feel like I am a rose. The kind of blossom that stands by itself against the horizon, waiting for the sun to rise and be embraced by a moment of warmth, only to acknowledge that the moon and stars will soon replace the vibrancy of life that keeps me warm.
Perfect little stars. The gemini in me realizes that duality better than most. Perfect and brilliant speckles of hope that keep me hoping that the sunrise will soon make me warm again, that the beautiful night sky is a place that feels too alone.
I promised my daughter a long time ago that I would never give up on people I care about. I do not let my dreams die so easily. That is a far more difficult realization than I care to admit. Failure is not an option. Allowing my dreams, my promises, and my hopes to fade away is simply something I will not let happen.
So I keep moving. I try to explain some things, and I leave some things without any explanation as I push myself harder and faster. The brutality of caring for people often leaves me left uncared for, but that is my life. I know what will or will not kill me. I am a survivor… a catalyst that serves a purposes for the things around me.
I will always care. Honestly and wholeheartedly. Even when I the world fails to give me time to say it, I will always remember and honor how I feel.
The 4th of July
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Featured, Honor
Bright lights in July,
reminding me of distant battles
lost before my memory started.
Peaceful silence of willful defiance
broken by the thundering roar
of personal independence.
No war to recall,
no battlefields scattered with loss,
only social revelation to announce.
Thoughts kept warm with hope,
and dreams exploding nearby the stars,
as loved ones still seem so far.
Deep chastity, perfected innocence.
Childlike memories of desperate times,
fought with lives that were not our own.
A Road Less Traveled
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Defiant, Honor, Love
If I had, only once chance
To say the things I needed to say
I would pray that you hear my voice
To you, to everyone
Before my life was undone
Would you believe, could you see
That I was, was what I need
of what I had done, was choice
I say, with every breath, my last
To believe in you, the dice I cast
No, this was my destiny
The road that what me,
The path that made me bleed
Do you know, of things I could relay
That love would simply not die this day
The Way It Ends
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts, Dedicated Poems, Friendship, Honor
I would simply say, adieu.
Perhaps farewell.
No, I couldn’t say good-bye.
There was nothing good.
About walking away,
or watching you leave.
Saying that,
If things ended this way,
I would have to say it all,
to bring closure to each day
to let you know I asked why
I needed to say,
adieu, farewell, and even good-bye.
The Homeless Girl
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Honor
There was a moment of servitude when I faltered amongst the dark cobblestone path
You were a man of great stature strolling through the lilacs
I was a woman of such insignificant ideas that even my own eyes looked down upon me
Yet when you found me collecting my thoughts, kneeling in the rain as no one heard my tears
You looked at me, no, into me
And it was the first time in my life that I was real
You didn’t say a word, but the manner in how you approached me meant everything
To you I was a lady worthy of your kindness, rather than the homeless girl everyone ignored
For a moment, I felt as though I had the right to cry without being disgraced
I was not a girl nor a woman to you. I was an equal that deserved respect I had never been given
In my most honest thoughts, I believed I would never be given anything so kind
I was simply trained to accept that I was not worthy of such childish dreams
Yet you were there, when I faltered amongst the dark cobblestone path
You offered your hand and I accepted, not knowing why anyone would be kind
I was left breathless from the charm of your brisk suit, or perhaps the simple smile you gave me
I don’t know why, but that night changed everything for me
It gave me hope, the childish dream that kind actions could be expected
And when you were gone, your simple act of compassion inspired me to become more
How love becomes a stranger
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Honor, Loss, Love
I missed you and I didn’t even know it.
A festival of memories wandering through my mind
and you were there, inspirational, beautiful, yet unaware
Completey oblivious to the history I recalled,
Never knowing that some you once knew still cherished you
Faithfully staying silent and moving away, trying to be invisible
So many hard choices had been decided, but the hardest was horribly simple
To remain outside, to disguise the face I wore, and to become nothing
I would be irrelevant simply to keep the intentions of my word strong
And you would walk by, laughing and smiling
Never realizing that someone was still willing to throw aside everything
To make sure you never saw them
Cult Classics – The Princess Bride
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Honor, Loss, Love
True love,
How does the Dread Pirate know of love?
Inigo wields a sword, as a master
Vizzini tunes his wit, like a fine instrument
But you, even in the shadow of night
Hold yourself stronger than I do
and I, as know, could have killed you with a rock
Dear Fezzik,
You may not know it, but your stature is dwarfed
By the heart inside of you that cherishes your friends
You stop and hesitate, to give a man his chance
When others would take merely take another’s life
You my friend, are simply stronger in ways you cannot see
I too, am stronger in ways that cannot be seen
My lips have tasted the sweet fragrance of life
And regardless of how many times I swing a sword
I am left alone, in search of my love
My arm only reaches for more, as my life needs more
It needs to find the half that completes me, and gives me reason to breathe
No my giant friend
I do not know of love, I merely dream of it
As if I was drowning in the sea of pirates I became
When my lungs gasped for air, fighting for one more chance
And believing in someone that could be stronger than I
My friend, that love has always been the reason why
When I see her again
My body limp and frail, unable to stand
I will raise up to defend her,
To stand by her side, to hold my love near
And to realize my dreaming has led me
to hold the one person who defines true love
The Knight’s Letter
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Defiant, Honor
As a sign of my faith
My lord, I send this letter to you
For me my liege there is no resurrection
There is only my word, to share this view
Of a battlefield that defines my devotion
This was the story of one life, my own
A savior, a warrior sworn to your crown
To uphold a code of chivalry and so much more
Yet I must confess lord, tomorrow I will die
My spirit, my body, and my life will have been yours
My word will be beset with great challenge
Yet I have given it freely to you so many years ago
I will not fail to give my people hope
And in death I will stand behind your crown for all eternity
I will become the hero you asked me to be
In my breathing
There will be desperation
As my hand falls to the ground
Trying to lift my body
Pushing against blood soaked soil
My will may come to breaking
Following the footsteps of my body
It will fail to keep me in motion
Feverishly trying to maintain my life
And losing a war that was already over
I will fight against all those who oppose you
Our soldier’s bravery will hold you’re banner high
The last words we scream will instill awe in our family
My final breath of air will be in defiance to your enemy
And my body will come to rest under your flag
My lord, I beg of you to take my life and remember it
To raise a cup of your finest ale and salute my sacrifice
I will be long gone by the time you read this
Yet my kin, my blood, will have found safety in our homeland
My liege, it was an honor to be your knight