When I couldn’t rescue,
Posted by Barry Hurd in Blog, Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts, Loss
In life, there are many times you realize failure. In many cases my friends think of these moments in terms of careers or relationships… while I think about the severity of a moment weighed against the most critical elements of life and death. I’m glad that my daily life does not warrant this kind of contest anymore, as the responsibility of life and death decisions is an incredibly complex notion full of limitless rewards and unmentionable peril.
In my mind I am glad to have had responsibility like this, and I wanted to say my own personal thank you for all the souls out there who take these duties when no one else will.
Not many people,
know the failure I have known.
Not of simple academia,
or lifelong pursuit,
but of missing the moment.
.
When a fraction,
becomes the only measure,
when seconds define years, often infinity,
and the most wanting, hurtful loss,
is measured by fractions of impossibility.
.
I cannot tell you that I failed,
to this painful misery of holding
your child, the jewel of your life,
your love, the definition of your journey,
for all my efforts I could not succeed.
.
I remember, with crystal recollection,
the moment of decision, made with with best intent,
when my choice was wrong,
and I now cry, forever wanting,
to make that moment different.
.
Yet I cannot,
Time and fate, cruel and unstoppable,
make me struggle, to yearn and hope
that I can choose again, not for you, but someone else,
and it will be right.
.
The thirst, beyond today
Posted by Barry Hurd in Daily thoughts, Loss, Survival
Without a moment
of thought,
recollection,
or insight.
I found myself
breaking into my own worth
drinking of the water
that gave me life.
I had no illusion
simple desperation
dumbfounded confusion,
unknown loss.
Yet I discovered
the breath I needed,
a hope of eternity
the life of tomorrow.
A realization of life.
Posted by Barry Hurd in Author's Favorites, Blog, Loss, Other Poets
In all honesty, my mind is often a flurry of creative thought and motion. It is hard for me to be “at rest” , and the few times I have noticed myself in a moment of perfect calm and quietness has been a notable experience for me.
In my daily life, this is something I can attribute to the first real loss I had in life: my daughter.
A very small handful of readers here on this site have noted there is only one other poet that I have listed in “other poets” is E.E. Cummings. The reason for this is simple, the first poem “I carry your heart with me” was engraved on her urn, which reminds me of the necessity of love. To know that which you have loved, will love, and will always love.
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 deepest secret nobody knows
(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)
It is not something you can disregard, nor is it something that others can see. It is something like faith, honor or trust – that while unseen, is worthwhile, tangible, and real.
It is something so rare, to have realized the awesome power such knowledge and acceptance brings. To know of myself, a decade after loss, to have been transformed into someone better.
Why does this matter?
In my professional life that is controlled by a world of metrics and business spreadsheets, I am often asked questions like “where did you learn that?” or “why do you know that?”
The first answer, which is typically a professionally minded business one, usually revolves around attending some seminar or spending countless nights practicing my trade.
The second answer, which is entirely metaphorical and of personal significance, is simply “I had a daughter.”
The first answer is merely an action, a choice.
The second answer is the motivation, the reason to which I have made the choice.
Connecting the dots
While losing my daughter was the first loss, she was unfortunately not the last. Mother, grandmother, friends. Many missed and noteworthy people.
To these people I owe a great debt of gratitude. They were the ones who taught me to know “that which you have loved, will love, and will always love” and “that while unseen, is worthwhile, tangible, and real.”
Final Thoughts
I can only tip my hat, say my words of remembrance, and share these words of insight with my heartfelt “thank you.”
to leave today, with a final line:
“The most wasted of all days, is one without laughter.”
e.e. cummings
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.
When a world ends
Posted by Barry Hurd in Blog, Loss, Love
As I have witnessed
stars falling from heaven
blazing in the night sky,
I fail to see
the grass beneath my feet
or the whispers of the end.
I do not question
no, I do not ask this regret
to hold my heart safe.
I merely embrace a life,
not my own, or of my choosing
that will be my companion in the end.
I cannot see,
nor can I ask for foregiveness,
as this world fades into my memory.
Drowning The Memory
Posted by Barry Hurd in Blog, Loss, Love
Beyond a moment, when I thought I was gone.
When the last breath escaped my lips
and I my eyes closed,
my world slipped,
thinking of you.
.
Beyond that moment,
when I found myself
holding a dream,
just one thought,
of knowing.
.
When I awoke,
gasping for life almost lost,
I came to find myself in reality,
knowing I could dream this thing,
of feeling without breathing.
Everything has changed
Posted by Barry Hurd in Blog, Loss, Love
Morning
The bright light piercing my slumber
warming my face
I breathe
Holding steady. Calm. Relaxed.
My hand
finding truth
in the absence of your touch.
I breathe
Holding steady. Hoping. Needing.
My eyes open
to the realization of missing you,
searching for your presence.
I breathe
Holding steady. Pondering. Wanting.
The promise of life
entitled only within my dreams,
as I search for my reason.
I breathe
Holding steady. Ready. Waiting.
Tin Heart
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Loss
Tinman
When I was whole,
Like the audience who laughs at me,
I was perfect.
The heart I had wasn’t faulty,
Merely happy in a world of hope.
That I would lose.
My place in life,
Was never to be complete.
Just knowing I was lacking.
The body I would live with,
Held by only a futile, desperate desire
To be the thing I could never be again
~A personal quote~
To dream in the brilliance of life.
Is to realize that each breath may never come.
When I said farewell, I meant it
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Loss
When I said farewell, there was a tone in my voice that conveyed more than my words ever could. The rose I held in my hand didn’t have enough value to it, as beautiful and perfect as each petal had pain-mistakingly been, it still didn’t have the vibrancy you brought to my life.
My words sounded like a wounded soul, a prideful spirit, and a lonely heart. I couldn’t hope that you could understand what I was trying to say, only that you understood how I felt.
I was at a loss. The deepest abyss of indiscretion, wanting and yearning for something I would never have, trying to believe in a prayer that god himself had thrown into hell.
I was the child of man, feverishly holding onto my cursing words of a religion that didn’t give me any comfort today.
Yet there I was, trying to hold back the tears as I said good-bye. If you could have spoken to me, the words you would share would have lightened my life like rays of sunshine.
I wept silently trying to hide how much I cared for you, the lack of companionship I looked forward to in years to come tearing my soul into frail little portions.
When I looked up from the grave stone, everyone else was gone. The rain fell upon my face reminding me how cold I felt inside, and I only remember how numb my hand felt as I let my grasp of your rose go.
You may have had life cut short, but as with all roses, your essence will not be forgotten.
Save Nothing
Posted by Barry Hurd in Coffee - Volume Two, Featured, Loss
I was asked by an absolute stranger today,
in an inquiring tone and dominating request,
if I would believe as I do, if not having been wrong.
I thought, if I was right today,
could I foresee how I would live tomorrow,
or would I blindly fail to see things behind me?
So I asked, first of myself, then of the stranger,
would these simple questions be too complex,
or would it be easier to ignore the truth?
The stranger paused, with a slow, steady breathing,
with cool eyes and cautious reckoning,
and said, “I believe in asking the question”
Yet I did not hesitate, not even for a second,
my thought was fluid and free, nimble and agile,
as I whispered “if only I had a chance”
The stranger looked at me, with perplexed vision,
quietly pondering my statement and posture,
wondering if I had deeper meaning than they did.
I simply knew my thoughts were precise and accurate.
They were simple crossroads of thought and emotion,
perfectly detailed moments of a life I had loved.
“save nothing”would become the description of my life,
exact moments of expression no one else ever knew.,
yet defining every second as building something more.
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