Conversational Razor
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Daily thoughts, Defiant, Inquisitive, Spiritual
This razor sharp against my soul
Breaking my spirit like no one knows
Can they hear the tears inside
Would they care if I confide
Cowardly testing this family of kin
Do they know I’ve lost my mind
Could they believe in how I bleed
Fearful of knowing or what I may find
Are these thoughts beneath my skin
Truthful speaking perhaps I need
Beyond expectation
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts, Inquisitive, Romantic
She was beautiful
Charming and allure
Some would say inspiring
Quietly intoxicating
Slowly and passionately invigorating
Someone you could perhaps dream of
While your eyes were wide open
A figment of an imagination
Breathing life into a heart once lost
She was someone honest
Could you but wonder and dare
To look someone so majestic in the eye
Would you care to define the reason why
Simply knowing you may perhaps cry
Would you; could you dare risk to fly
Enigmatic Eyes
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Daily thoughts, Inquisitive, Spiritual
Chamber to the soul, I wish thee well
Mirror chance to suggest, do tell
That a heart feigns to forget
Nigh tis not a sole regret
Yet these eyes laugh as if in pain
Tears washing down, unnoticed in the rain
Your vision had me caught
Sometimes lost in wondrous thought
Does your face believe such lies
As to the reasons you gave me why
Is this a facade you hold to hide the sorrow
Will your eyes tell me more tomorrow
Nightly Screaming
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Inquisitive, Spiritual
Chaotic noises I’m hearing
                    I heard them all tonight
Voices in the dreaming
           I heard them all with fright
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Sounds so painful to be searing
                     Burning my mind with strife
   Painful sounds I’m fearing
                                Trying to win this fight
  My head simply not clearing
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These noises of the night
The Wall
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Daily thoughts, Inquisitive
This is my artistic viewpoint on seeing things for more than what they are. I spend a lot of effort trying to look within things that are considered very basic. I think everything has a special and unique purpose. I think this applies to all things ranging from people, to items, to time itself.
The Wall
This wall is so blank, so terribly lost
A canvas waiting for it’s artist
Character within it searching to be released
Many people see only white
Yet I see the shades of every grain
My eyes feel every curve and notch
Even the breeze tells me how to view it
This wall is everything I can dream of being
Yet so many people disregard it as they pass by
Do the people who view this wall see only white
A heart my own feels for how this wall is ignored
Can they see the colors that surround it
Are there people who can see this world like me
Maybe they simply see me as white as well
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
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
Was that a kiss?
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Inquisitive, Romantic
This one was written because I got caught writing about romance in the Sunset last night and I thought there was something worth writing about. It started out as a section of the above poem, but then became something itself – more aligned to the idea of what a real kiss embodies.
Was that a kiss?
What passion can be felt in brushing your cheek
Dreams are not gone when my eyes are closed
What thoughts I remember as I feel the pause in your breathing
Dreams are so real when I know you are there
What emotion can be created by a simple fragrance
Dreams are vivid when I feel you so close
What fire can be given to a thought so small
Dreams are beyond description when our lips touch
What can I tell you of that day we said hello
Dreams are not forgotten when we said good-bye
Betoken
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Inquisitive, Loss, Mystery, Spiritual
Subtle betoken
 My veil has dropped
   Was this dark life so dim
     Feeling this ice within my veins
       This darkness resides my brethren
Windows tinted with malicious spirits inside
 Can you hear these noises
   Feigning voices this screaming resides
     My own depth wanting so shallow
       This pain suggest I die
When dim thoughts harrow my mind
 My dismay becomes my harrow
   Nightly I wonder why
     Encompassing vision I do not find
       Emotion hinting no ease
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Will this darkness fade from me
Within shadows I must see
Maybe
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume One, Inquisitive, Spiritual
This was written specifically with the feeling of chance wondering. The type of feeling you have when you are sitting on the fence and not knowing which way to go. I often feel that way to the last moment.
Maybe
         Sometimes I wonder
                                      In life and who I am
   I see the glory of feeling
                                      Maybe I’ll know it when I see
         Sometimes I wonder
                                      In reasons I met you lately
I see the freedom of feeling
                                      Maybe I’ll know it when I see
         Sometimes I wonder
                                      In why I can’t say hello
I see the smile of happiness
                                      Maybe I’ll know it when I see
         Sometimes I wonder
                                      In myself and why I bother
       I see the joy of loving
                                      Maybe I’ll know it when I see