An Angel’s Soul

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Spiritual

I don’t work, like the rest of the world
I am, simple
Divine in nature,
Only because I breathe, not because I need to
But as my heart wants to
It draws me forth, as if I was a simple artist
A painter with every color to create from
I am the shadow and the light
The cause and effect
Of every action I choose to take
One could call it serendipitous
Or simple fate
But I know it is my decision
The choice to rise
Every time I fall
To find the spirit I have barrowed
And spread it like wings,
To hope they can lift me off my feet
I don’t know, if I am like everyone else
I am, never perfect
Flawed in my creation,
Only because I am, without purpose
But to act like a tool no one needs
It is a sad story, one that finds itself as my life
A character lost upon the pages made to define him
I am the beginning and the end
The intrigue and the suspense
Of every chance that I can be led to
One could call it destined
Or simple indecision
But I know this life is mine to hate
The choice to believe
Every time I cry
To find the soul I have filled with sorrow
And to hide it amongst too many things,
To pray it be a gift, that remains unseen

Faith

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Friendship, Spiritual

The only chance I had, wasted
As my heart sadly broke
So sad, I thought, a life of which no one spoke
and to have wine too bitter to be tasted

I wondered, did I deserve a distraction
A beautiful chance to escape
Or would I never fall in love, live a life without satisfaction
Realizing my heart was too far gone to relate

I was so tired, not of dreaming
But of the days spent alone
The nights spent screaming
Hiding in darkness, my true face never shown

Oh god, do I accept
That I cannot discover any peace tonight
Do I regret or forget
That everything I wanted had blinded my sight

Some comfort, all I wanted was someone to care
For a sweet madness to release me
To let my soul fly once more, to leap, to dare
And perhaps, in another day, we shall see

Losing Definition

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Defiant, Dreams, Spiritual

I lost myself, not entirely
But as if I was without function
My life resembling a locked doorway
or perhaps a key
But never both, simple one or the other

I was always so
Some viewers failed to realize I was a puzzle
That my edges fit into another
Because they had never seen my partner
nor even knew someone else could match me so well

I was the cup
Designed to hold something
So securely
Yet never finding enough to fill me
I was simply cracked and the essence left me too quickly

I was a lit candle
So futile in nature
As I sat afloat in a sea of despair
That gave me so many reflections to ponder upon
Yet no one would see the direction I was moving

I could be complete, yes with hope
Perhaps someone could fix me,
To give me enough love that I could function as intended
They could hold me, broken and unloved
and make me feel as if I had a purpose

If one soul could reach me, touch my broken soul
I would be amazing
My light would inspire
Allow them to see something worth loving
because without them, I will never function

The Neverending Poet

Posted by 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

True North

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Dedicated Poems, Love, Spiritual

There was a moment in my life
That seemed as if the darkness was defined
By light
A second of trivial essence
When the difference of feeling good
Was completely wrong

It was a direction that was ill-defined
Marked by what everyone said was true north
On a faulty map
A series of chance occurrences
Seemingly meaningless and completely irrelevant
Yet defining my whole destiny

Every moment, each direction I turned
Took me down an unlit path of dangerous shadows
They led nowhere, except for wasteful pondering
Every trivial chance, each second
As I became feeling good was meaningless, irrelevant
Yet I was completely wrong, again. It was destiny

I could feel, but for a moment in life
My life would simply be what I had felt
No meaning, no true north
Faulty maps and destined fate
I would wander one way, then another
Completely lost within the compass I was given

And every time,
My faith would bring me back to here
Looking inside of myself
Gazing at the lost soul within
Realizing I had one choice,
And would choose to love again

Angels on the Battlefield

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Creative Writing, Loss, Love, Spiritual

Dear god, I couldn’t believe this was my ending. The pain in my side was sharp, yet I could only feel a bliss tranquility enveloping my mind. I didn’t want to go easily. I tried to speak, attempted to call for help; but my voice was merely a whisper. The sky was frozen above me with perfect clouds touching each other like angels holding hands waiting for me to shed my doubt and join them. I wasn’t ready to go just yet.

My wife, my children… they needed me to hold on. Yet they couldn’t see how peaceful I was, having reached this point in life and found myself helpless. Their names rolled off my tongue as I slowly took my last breath to say ‘I love you”. The sky grew dark, I felt consumed, I was at a loss beyond anything I could have imagined. Everything faded to black.

My eyes opened again. I could hear the voice of an angel, beautiful and inspiring; she said I would be okay. I saw the bright light on the horizon fading away and I knew that I wasn’t going anywhere, that someone had either given me the strength to hold on or that I just had more to do with my life. A medic looked at me with a perplexed expression on her face and I simply said “Thank you. I don’t know who you are, but you are my angel”.

The Climb

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Daily thoughts, Defiant, Spiritual

I went to the end of the world
Wondering if the precipice I stood upon
Could hold the weight of my life
I fathomed that others had been here before
That I was not the one who defined this point
Yet it was a sanctuary of civil defiance
That we had all climbed upon

The world was so small
No longer could one define themselves as traveler
From here we may all be seen as avatars
Icons of determination looking at ourselves
The color of the city bleaching our thoughts
Perhaps the only thing we can see clearly
Are the very clouds we all stand upon

I was not the first here
With all due respect I was not that original
Nor was I competitive enough to fight for the title
Merely a person with thoughts of being inquisitive
Needing to see this realm from a point so heavenly
Reaching out at the untouchable world and screaming
As my soul found itself flying

Caffeinated Armageddon

Posted by in Coffee, Coffee - Volume Two, Inquisitive, Spiritual

I dreamdt of waking
Trying to lure myself from fruitless ambition
To taste the wine as it caressed my lips
Breathing the nectar of life I had forgotten

But it was pretty pointless
I set my coffee on my desk
As I had done a thousand times before
and my eyes wandered out of my window

From my vantage, this sleek castle of glass
I could see hundreds of people living
Moving in a world that I could only witness
Like a spectator or a referee that didn’t know the rules

I could hear the hum of the air conditioning
The mindless chattering of coworkers on the phone
Yet it all seemed chaotically meaningless
As if I was paused in a world of hectic crisis

I thought to myself
Wouldn’t life be grand if it was different
Could I dare to be an artist
Should I care if no one knows my name

My boss scurried by my office door
I wondered why they thought so highly of this game
A competition of man eat mouse
Where the little guy never got the cheese

I sighed, pausing my thoughts for a moment
Pondering how wonderful it would be
To live in a place where we were all meant to be
And when I resumed, I simply took another sip of coffee

A Symbiotic Dream

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Loss, Love, Romantic, Spiritual

I dreamt one night
that you were there
and my fantasy
was real

I believed for the moment
That you were heaven
Resting beside me
Sent to let my spirit fly

Dear lover
I do not know your name
Nor do I care
Yet I dare with a heart so bare

I may succeed in denying
A simple belief of you and me
As this slumbers beckons
And my dreams fade away unseen

Like a summer breeze
Your breath may touch me
So gently that it stirs my memory
And caresses me to wander in desire

Yet my wish will never evade this story
I will not find myself alone
No dear lover
My soul will rest peacefully when you are gone

I will not run from such a place
Even when I find myself embraced by a warmth
Of things that are simply impossible to forget
This place I slumber where we had met

I dream not of us
But of you and I
Of two lives beautifully apart
But having once been wonderfully together

The Palm Reader at the Street Fair

Posted by in Coffee - Volume Two, Inquisitive, Spiritual

I sat down
aware that I as seeking a reason for being here
The old gypsy woman smiled with her weathered lips
grasping my hand so gently with such warm fingers
as she pressed her palm against my own
and told me what I was scared of

That my life was short
but not incomplete
My heart was defiant and strong
and that I would become a passionate spirit
troubled by trying to reach a point
that would move farther than I could travel

She told me that I would not faulter
that while life did not encompass my dream
that it would touch someone else so deeply
and my hope and faith would inspire another soul
It would pull them from the bitter soil covering their hands
and allow them to cherish an embrace of a loving heart

I asked the old gypsy woman
if she could tell me how to best travel
her eyes spoke of her wisdom in such matters
and without words, she placed a single rose petal in my hand
She closed my fingers around it
It was warm, secure, and soft enough that it faded from my grasp

“That is what your travel will be”
For a moment, I did not understand
I pulled my hand from her and looked down with doubt
The petal was gone
It was now a full rose in bloom
Vibrant and amazingly delicate

“That is what your life will be”
I was confused
My eyes deceived me
and my imagination seemed to play along
but I felt something
A part of my spirit heard what she had said

I looked into the old gypsy woman’s eyes
and said I believed her
She smiled and laughed under her breath
as she knew I didn’t understand
I took a dollar and left it on the table
Yet she placed the dollar back into my hand

“This will bring you true understanding”
I took it and slipped it back into my pocket
as I waved good-bye to the old gypsy woman
I began walking slowly to my house while pondering her words
My thoughts asked so many questions that I could not answer
and yet I found myself at ease

I wandered through the street fair, delaying my return home
As I looked at a colorful world that amazed so many children
and left the adults wondering about daily life
I looked at the clowns and the parrots,
the merchants and the beggars
and I found myself understand everything so clearly

Yet I did not understand myself
I was a child looking at a soul I could not comprehend
It was lavish in color and so unique in its construction
My thoughts of everything included nothing of me
until I simply bumped into a stranger
as small boy, who reminded me so much of myself

He looked at me, no through me
a tear in his eye
and a trail of unhappy thoughts on his face
he pointed to the sky
high above us a single red balloon faded from view
and yet the boy held it dearly in his heart

I took the boy’s hand
and told him it would be alright
I reached into my pocket
Searching for the dollar
and instead found a single rose petal
a petal of no value I thought

But I made my way to the merchant clown
who was a lovely old man
Telling him I needed a balloon to give this small boy
and without question he gave it to me free of charge
He smiled and he laughed and gave me the balloon
he even patted me on the head

I turned to the boy
but he was no where to be found
I searched the crowd and found myself alone
wondering how I had delayed my own problems
to give something of myself to solve a child’s dilemna
and I was simply left holding this pretty red balloon

I walked home, somewhat frustrated
Gazing at this simple floating piece of rubber
That for no apparent reason made me so happy
and I laughed, having tried to do what I could
Realizing the old gypsy woman was right
that a rose petal would bring me understanding

I would hold onto a dream
a petal, a balloon
I would hold onto a faith
and keep it dearly with my childlike spirit
trusting my heart to the beauty and happiness
an old gypsy woman had shared with me

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