I do not see you often with my eyes…


by Nicholas Gordon

( Photo by an )

I do not see you often with my eyes,
But often you are with me in my heart.
We rarely speak, but there are deeper ties
That keep us close while we must be apart.
Friendships don’t depend on sights and sounds,
But on the mysteries of need and grace.
You’re with me always, unrestrained by bounds,
In some sweet field more permanent than place.

(from http://www.poemsforfree.com )

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When Lightning Strikes

Silent as you wish,
I must now seem foolish.
In truth, the fault we share
As well as tendered Care.

When bolts, I noticed,
Struck in Frequency,
I reached desperately to anchor
Confidence ‘nto Reality.

If I had…

Endurance of Legends’ past,
Craters would not have fractured.

If I had…

Patience of my Ancestors,
P’haps Temptation would not have mattered.

Instead, cracks appeared as Age,
With Fear soon to follow suit,
And Compliance as the gauge
Upon which the point is moot.

But Care hinders,
Not the outcome of the play,
But the fallout of the folds
Such abundance yields that day.

In time, should One carry
The burden that hits Home,
When Lightning Strikes
The Field of Dreams –
So Daring
And Unknown?

Once Upon a Couch

When I rest upon my couch
I see the world go by.
I ponder on the little things
that make me want to cry.

Tis not a world for weary minds,
nor a soul that often winds
up carrying
and perrying
the echoes of the blind.

I find myself surrounded
on far too many sides
by springs and knots and bigger holes
that patches no-longer hide.

Tis a wonder how this world turns
when so many little things reside
within the heart where feelings learn
to travel like a slide.

We shield and twist and turn
to avoid offending blows.
But must they come so frequently
that they leave unpatchables?

So I find myself upon the couch
now riddled with dismay
and try my best not to say,
then run away!

Too Bad

It’s ironic how when I try to write
midday that I can’t seem to get the words right.
Yet when I feel the muse’s guiding
hand, it’s when I feel most tired.

Too bad that isn’t now.

Comfort’s Hope

Comfort soothes the weary heart
that falters in their story,
pressing almost instantly
the wound that would be gory.

Were it not for solemn tens-
the presence of the meek,
a weathered soul might commend
the pressures that we seek.

But hope does lie about the ground
within arm’s heavy reach.
And in such hope that can be found,
a pardon that we preach.

Nursery Rhymes – guidance 

Listen well and listen hard,
My child, and you will hear…
This is the life you will start.
It’s nothing you need fear.

Leave the past to ashes.
Let It Burn no more.
Learn from your mistakes,
And let your spirit soar!

Let its presence guide you
Through all eternity.
Each step in life you take
Your own true destiny.

Friends are not your enemy.
Foes are not your friends.
Strangers are the Mysteries
That your heart contends.

Just remember this one thing,
My Little Darling,
Whatever so your heart desires,
Set Ablaze your inner fires.

Experiment day 2

The initial idea was to start creating a blog so that I can probably start writing poetry again, or writing period. However I can’t really seem to muster up the creativity or inspiration to write another poem except at night when I’m too tired to actually get up and do anything, or don’t want to risk waking up the baby just so I could type something up. Therefore I’ll just post one of my old poems and see if anyone responds. So here it goes:

Before the world was round, it was flat without contest,
but can such facts also crown just which is more complex;
an ever-volving mass of Earth, Water, and Air
or a cosmic halt of land and that drops unto nowhere?

I wrote that short one some years back and it’s one of my favorites, but I know my poetry as a whole could use some improvement if I were to pursue it in a more official capacity. Oh, and let’s not forget the elephant in the room – that being that I can’t seem to make a commitment to anything including finishing what I started (two novels and a composition of my own poetry).

I guess we’ll just see where this takes me- if I can muster up some creativity or I don’t know.. do something! Maybe write something interesting.. or perhaps I’ll just get a few reviews and leave it at that. No no.. I’m not just going to rely on other people’s opinions to get me by or to inspire creativity – I have enough in my life to inspire creativity if I can just tap into it. Instead, I wouldn’t mind getting a bit of constructive criticism every now and then, or maybe some advice if the situation does arise in any future post that calls for some.

I have been told before, when I was writing my last book (which of course I never did finish), in order to have a chance at completion I just have to write. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or if it’s bad, or if it is grammatically correct, I just have to write. I was told to write whatever comes to mind, then edit later. However, that’s probably my worst fault or one of them anyway. It’s hard for me to continue writing if I see something is misspelled or missing punctuation, or just plain wrong. I guess that’s something else I have to overcome.

My experiment 

So I’ve decided to start a blog.  My aspirations for it are… well,  let’s just say they are experimental. I’ve never been very good at keeping up a diary or journal, and my past experiences with writing have never really come to a satisfactory completion.  I theorize that by creating an open-ended blog for whatever comes to mind may actually prove beneficial.  At least,  that is my hope.   Maybe I might actually finish a thought process or be able to jot down those rhymes I keep hearing in my head. Or perhaps I’ll just tire myself to sleep at the very least.  I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how this works out.