A question left unanswered
As I see the way you do
Your words hollow as you go another way
I’m left out here hanging … just hanging in space
You see, you want what you want, demand what you need
Know what don’t you see? You dont see Me
An empty seat, I’m not present
A man alone.
Did you need me? Did you care?
Were there others who filled my place there?
Professed love left hanging, empty words
A means to an end
Wanted what you wanted
Im just a means to an end.
It’s funny how I believed
Guess I saw what I wanted to see
In the end, there may be others
To fill the place I wanted to be
Know who won’t be there to be filled with pain to see?
Me.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Innocence Lost
A spark of insight
The wonder revered
As so many chased it
Yet so few understood
The nature of their desire
Fated in silence
Years passed them alone
As they wandered searching for meaning
Lost in a facade built to misdirect
To confuse them
Illusions of grandeur
Hidden in lies of benefit
Being the boss, only to show they weren’t
Thinking they had value
Only to find they were the discarded dream
Used then left to fade away
As age slowly takes them
Leaving … the empty , disjointed, the lost
The Truth finally appears
That it all was a scam, a misdirection, a promise of lacking, wanting
They followed the false idol
Of the physical ..
Abused the moment in hopes of the dream
Yet years became unforgiving masters
Yoking them to the image
Wrought in self abuse
Dissolutioned by their experiences
As reality raped them again and again
Breaking hope , sundering their souls
A gift of despair, an inheritance of hate
Bequeathed for the weary hearts that
Traveled the bitter lane
Their youth extinguished as the Seconds
Dragged forward day passing to day
A moment at a time.. forced to live a present that a past future delegated
In the silences of each twilight
The glimmers of promise perish
As their legacy is revealed
The scope of the deception finally
Apparent
As the darkness engulfs them
Closing in on every side
The idea slowly fades
Leaving the nothing… in its place.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Lux… Redux
Slipstream shadows
Wraith the passing mist
Lost in the empty nothingness
Of the odd
Moments pass in the brutal silence
Of forgotten lonely places
Peace sundered by an instant of
Truth… it all can pass
Blink from existence
Flash of clarity we are all temporary
Moments to come
Moments to go
Shadows really
Here then gone
Nothing left but an empty space
Where something had been
An hour a day
Lost in the past
Existing in the now
Eclipsed in tomorrow
Mere ashes, remnants
Creatures of the luminescent
Denizens of the mist
Energy passing to everlasting
As our forms fade
Taken by the forward fate
We leave this time… this space
The dust of its place
And move
On
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Wicked Game
Sundered heart, the dreams yet dreamt
A future in the foggy twilight of days yet spent
A purpose undefined, with love not yet given
In moments of passion of a night’s unspent
Will it be her, or will she not be
I question the choices presented before me
Love peace or wealth yet gained
As I am left to dwell and contemplate
Youth, beauty, a passion unwrought
Loyalty, promise, and the prizes I’ve sought
A lifetime leads to this point.. this path
The way is shrouded, so many desires to sate
In the stillness of my own troubled mind
I wonder the irony of the fated design
After a lifetime of silence, suddenly granted a muse
Given a gift, a blessing to live life anew
Choices to make, pathways to choose
So much to gain, so much to lose
Am I wicked for wanting it all?
After so much emptiness, can I breach the wall
To my own heaven, eden unbound
To my personal salvation,
Released by the unforgiving fate
My soul had been bound.
Beauty of the spirit
Beauty of the soul
A Beauty yet experienced
A Beauty to behold
Moments in peace
In love in light
Choices unchosen
Wonders of forbidden nights
I stand in the quiet times
Contemplating times yet to come
Lives yet experienced
Love yet to be won
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Seeking Eve
In Twilight wonder
The faded brilliance left
Me wanting, needing
Something, anything
To fill the void , mitigate
The shadows dwelling in
My sundered existence
Memories of the light
Haunting me, pulling me
Driving me to seek solace
In the walled off places
Hidden in my soul
I chased the spark here and there
Knowing full well the futility of it
As time has taught me the rarity
Of the dawn, once witnessed is unmistakable
Imitation and illusion is not a replacement
It becomes a prison of repetition
A duplication of failure
As I grasp at the real, reach toward the perception
Chase the dream, my mind concocted
As my memory tries in repetitious fashion
To duplicate my experience
To recreate the wonder of it all
To bear witness to the spectacle
The peace that took me as the dawn broke
To purify my tortured journey
Give it purpose, meaning
I traveled long and arduous roads searching
For any place or thing to remind me of that
Moment of Awe, that defined the reason
For standing in the darkness
For being punished for my audacity
To believe I was worthy of the blessing
Of clarity, of being juxtaposed from
A shadowed sub existence to
Having my deepest desire fulfilled
Oh, I have tread this path before to be sure
Even transcended to the light
But , without purpose, without meaning
To give understanding to the moment
It was wasted on a man blinded by ignorance
Stifled by the greed of a miserable past
It prevented the connection to true illumination
Left me empty inside, cold, alone
Each false dawn stole my resolve
Each time the light was taken from me
Destroyed a piece of my spirit until
I was convinced the darkness was all there was
I chased the morning with a longing I can’t readily explain
It has been expressed as brilliance as an awakening
Even a rebirth of sorts, granting new beginnings
However, until you stand witness to it
There are no words to describe
The feeling of the desolation drained
Of the spectacle of sheer joy
You encounter as the loneliness fades
The shadows are banished
Your eyes opened to the wonderous gift
Of the coming dawn
This is what it means to know unconditional love.
This is the actual experience of life.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Anything For Love
Lost in the moment
I’m not sure who I am
Where I’m going
Stuck between worlds
Between Loves
Each a foreign land
Each one an expression
Frozen in time
Can’t let the moment go
Cant be free in my mind
Lost in the moment
I’m not sure who I am
Where I’m going
Stuck between worlds
Between Loves
Each a foreign land
I know it’s wrong but
Each feeling ls a void
A hole in my soul
That needed a hand
I revile in the joy of it all
Each face, each verbal caress
All summed up in a fullness
I can’t readily express
The darkness has risen
From my continence
The light shined on me
A solace for my tortured mind
Pondering the inevitable
Crash after soaring to those
Lofty heights, fallen expectations
Of a future of promise… now loss
Yet torn asunder by fate
Each moment ticked by
With dread anticipation
Of the reckoning to come
When the truth a rogue power
Will signify the clarity
Hidden by my selfish fear
That to let go would bring loneliness
Again
Moral dilemma, immoral choice
Four souls held tight, their unknowing
A mirror to reflect true emotion to avoid
The dark illusion of a relationship, a bond
Divided, separated in pieces
Hearts
Each fragile like glass, a moment of Impropriety could shatter it all
A clarity would force an action
To remove the peace, to remove the
Calm assurance that if you lose one
More remain, spirits of night
Made plain in the coming dawn
Until the hard truth will be all that remains
Stark, empty, loneliness
And the pain. Broken you earn your own reality.
Forced to release them all in a wave of grief. Of knowing, I can’t avoid the coming
Storm
The tempest of my own soul
Torn asunder by the act
Of acknowledging I am the cause
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Conflict of the Inner life
Too tired to care
Nodding, I stare
Blankly
Trying remember
Why,
Why I continue
Why I believe
Why I love
An illusion of
Feeling
Caring, and not
A thought is all
That motivates
What I should be
How I should waste
A life, as if I
Was part of it
Yet only pretending
Going though the
Motions
I struggle with the
Truth, as I sit here
Trying to live the
Life I was taught
Be the husband
Be the father
As I contemplate
My role
Truth, is I don’t
Know
Who I really am
Though. I am supposed
To feel love
Sometimes, I feel
Nothing
Sad, caught up in
A real life drama
Of societal placement
A belief
Formed my understanding
As I move from day to day
An anachronism of
Another century
Left to live out
My role
Even if I don’t really
Understand my implication
That I feel nothingness
My soul struggles
To withstand the
Onslaught of
A day … A day
That continues.
And with it confusion
Boredom
And the nothingness
That is
That day..and again..
And
Again….and
Again……
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
A Shadow Faded
Freedom, shadows in the past
An empty field, nothing standing
Are we living under our own rights
Morality, or Mortality
Whose hand holds the reins
We think we know, yet
Do we , Really?
We appear to be living in the past
In a place, where inalienable
Actually meant something
Hidden, the real, the true
Slaves, without chains
Chains, without links
The secrets, that are not
Shone,
Yet, we are being forced
To our knees
Without , Understanding
A document, in time
To enumerated our future
A number, A line it spelled out
Our freedoms, Our new future
Mankind rejoiced, A future unbridled
Freedom for all, past history to be forgotten
Only to find Our future, was secretly
Hijacked, by those who stood in shadow
We believed our future wasn’t written
Yet, in time, those who could see
Recognized, the same patterns
The same actions
We found, we were enslaved
By the same ideas
That killed, the ideas in the past
The Shadow, of Freedom fading
Until, it ceased to be seen
At all.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Mirror Of The Real
Defined by your reality
Justified by your friends
Vilified by your enemies
You are part of a reality
Sins, of the days
Carry us into the darkness
Convinced, you are just fulfilling
Your life’s path, as you continue
Your image, distorted as it is
In the mirror of your own morality
Thinking, this is what mortality
Has to offer, darkness
As you walk the path of delusion
Thinking as you do, that you are
The first, to pass this way
The sense of selfish righteousness
The older you get, you either
Become aware of the fools path
You have walked, and fight for the , light
Or the dark takes you , as you become
Nothing
Just a pile of dust, and dry bones
Forgotten, pictures that crumble
Just as their subject did
In the end…forgotten
As they turn to dust, and
Are
Gone.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
I Watch It Pass
The window shows the scene, a freedom
if you are willing to take it
And, yet most will look on as they sit wishing
their lives away and never experiencing it
So as the view changes, so changes their desire
It leads to sleepless nights, and restless days
At the thought, of the future, the old worries
arise, lost in a past that has worn out it’s welcome
Each sleepless night, I pay homage to the past
As the world changes outside my window
But, I never do…
A Original Poem By H.R Beebe
