pop's poetry

Year: 2014

  • cars on a country road

    At 2am, sleep is like a stranger
I see on a street in my hometown
I recognize her face
But before I can ask where I know her from
She darts across the lanes of traffic
Around a corner
And disappears
The cars speed by
Blocking my path
And through the side windows
As they pass I see
An old friend
Charlie Sheen
A guy from work I need to talk to
The cars keep moving
And the light never changes
The countdown - 25, 24, 23, 25, 24, 23
I step out anyway
And the road is sticky
My shoes barely move
And the cars keep coming
Each one with a familiar occupant
A homeless man I saw yesterday
My grandkids
My daughter's boyfriend
Two nuns with a Buddhist monk
Lao Tzu and Robin Williams
A guy from work I need to talk to
He must be circling the block
The parade of cars keeps coming
I see a slight break in the traffic
So I sprint across the street in pursuit
But when I round the corner
I'm in my back yard
With weeds that need pulling
I step into my house through the back door
And see the cabinets that need painting
And my laptop
With the emails that need answering
There's a knock on the front door
The dog barks
He hears a noise in the night
I realize I've been dreaming
With my eyes open to the darkness
It's 2:12am
Twelve minutes passed
Like cars on a country road
And in the distance
I see her hitch hiking
Brake lights glare, hurting my eyes
Sleep gets in the back seat
And the car speeds off
Into the night
As I stand along the road
Waiting in the dark
For the first light of morning

  • veterans day

    It's said that the threat of war
can bring peace.
I'm sure this is undoubtedly true,
but much more complicated than
the axiom.
Today, and every day,
we give honor
for those who have served
to back up that threat
with action.
Yet we keep in our hearts
a bright hope
that someday the ideals of peace
will eliminate the idea of wars
as options.

  • turning

    There are moments in life 
when nothing makes sense.
No amount of 
ingenuity or strength 
can get you out of the 
darkness.
In those moments, 
some turn to God,
some turn to family, 
some turn to therapy,
some turn and run.
The measure of a soul
isn't where you turn
when faced with
senslessness, 
but when you get through it,
whether you help others
through their darkest 
moments.
The only light someone 
may be able to see
is you.

  • drought

    Hopeful skywatchers
Squint to see the first drop fall
Our parched souls need rain

  • 5:02am

    I hear you breathing in the quietness
and listen for the next intake and exhale
realizing that peace is in the simple things
that happen without me knowing just how
vital they are and that I miss many of them
by giving focus to the words in my head
telling me that whatever is coming is more
important though I should be in the moment
when I'm awake before the dawn hearing the 
softness of your breath and should know that
with each and every rise and fall of your chest
I am the luckiest person just to be able to 
lie here and listen to the sound of you sleeping.