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
The Model’s Gift
Here we go again
Darkness black as night
The things I hoped were real
Was it
Or just a lie?
My hopes my needs
Just shadows in relief
I thought it was love
Or was it just a mirage
fooling me
I hoped I prayed
Lost in my own tale
The truth was more blatant
The actual more real
She said the right things
I stupidly believed
For just a moment
I dared to have dreams
Touched … I felt it
I allowed the moment to be
In that instant It was made real
If only to me
Can I trust again
Could I open and be me
To let her know
The actual me?
It’s always been bad
To show them the truth
To step to the light
To let it be
Seen
The shield lowered
If only for a chance
But when it all came in focus
It was more darkness
It made no sense
Empty promises
Golden words lined with tin
Stolen chances
Pain
Again
In the end
What was left ?
Broken promises
And one standing alone
Me
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Mirror Images: Real Consequences
I see the darkness
Though they call it light
The chaos is touted as order
People starving as they claim
Prosperity
As the lies mount
Deaths are praised as great
While leaders depopulate
Lost the truth in the moment
As the false is used as the shield
Hiding the loss
Countries invaded are called progress
As the government shout in joy
The children are taken with a voice
In silence, the women cry
Their freedom sacrificed on the alter
In progress
A wonderland encounter
The insane controlling the asylum
Up is down, men are not men
Day is night
With the only thing real
Is yourself
And your freedom
There all that’s left
A shadow
And their
Lies
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Emptiness: The Winter Darkly
Bleak the ever frost of my heart separates me
Divides me from humanity in ways I can’t yet fanthom or comprehend
Day by day, I fight to give to love to feel something..
Yet time and again words fail me, and I feel cold inside
Left bitter at the betrayal and disrespect empty
When I should have felt longing and regret
for those I lost, I felt nothing
Was it due to some trauma I endured, unaware of its effect on my psyche, my soul?
Or simply was I incapable of the full measure of love others possess?
The winter cold reflects the distance between my soul and the world
Alone in a crowd
Searching for a lifeline
Left staring into the dark mirror of my discontent
An ocean between my troubled heart and the world of light
Cast into a pit of my own experience
Left to ponder what bulwark that divides
Surrounded by beauty calling out to me
My hand stayed by that unseen force
That unkind gulf halting my chance
At normalcy
At redemption
Confounded by my own understanding
That splinter in my brain
Not just the lack
But, knowing that it stems from
A coldness perhaps I was bequeath
At birth, an inheritance of nothingness
That accompanies ones sure knowledge
Of their own humanity
And the sorrow , as you weep for your own fate
The feeling called love a spector
That to me never materializes
And so doesn’t exist at
All
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Where The Clouds Gather
With dark expectations, we gathered
With hope fleeting, we challenged the dark knowledge
We surrounded the man whose future laid in the balance
His life narrowed to a few gestures of his hand or a blink of his eye
As his blood poured.. his spirit faded
It’s funny how you can rationalize another’s life away when it isn’t yours
Starvation blatantly on display as thirst dried his aspect.. With two weeks of torture
The man faced the darkness while others fought over his belongings and morality
His time came to an end..the light faded from his eyes as a final breath released
Wailing could be heard as the people rushed to
Witness his departure
The clouds gathered… that August day
And at the moment of his last breath..rain began to fall..as if the very sky shed tears to mark the man’s passing
A man gone..
A memory created
It was a Wednesday
When my father died.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Love Unimagined
Desire
A self-fulfilling reality
Selfish by design
Without a thought of another
A plain blank page
Consideration of nothing
But need in the moment
A use without guilt
Purpose without care
Taking…all that has meaning
Value, worth
Leeching of everything that represents goodness
Until emptiness remains
A life without meaning
Adrift in the void
Of a grey existence
Just another day in a place called
Earth…
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Genocidal Justification
Lost in ideology
Hypothetical hypocrisy
Holding your moral flag high
In the face of righteous indignation
To justify misdeeds in the name of societal solidity
As calls for genocide are framed as righteous
But, only if it’s one sided
We are left to ponder the value of a people
Or a thought that can so easily justify
Bloodshed in the name of a religion
While discounting an entire people
Terror from on high or terror in the streets
What constitutes morality if you can use those you represent as a ward against retribution?
If life means so little how can you claim
A moral superiority?
To create the very bloodshed of the ones
You claim to defend, are you the really protecting anyone at all?
Accept your own agenda?
People reduced to cattle to be herded, used
Their lives nothing but expendable for political gains.
Tell me how your cause is just as you murder, hurt, rape and maim
You attack , then blame victims for your actions
Narcissistic to the extreme
As you gaslight the world to agree
That your barbarism was justified
As you demonize those you brutalized
Toxic in the extreme
Like an abusive spouse shouting to justify your means
You only show the true darkness in your souls
As the victims fight back you can’t
Hold your moral high ground
And trumpet your righteous actions
When first it was their blood you spilled on the ground.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Killers of The Dream
A question of perspective
As we stand witness to the
Dissolution of humanity
A piece at a time
A lie at a time
As the darkness re-emerges
As a progressive ideology
Still awash in the blood
Of histories abomination
Hypocrisy wrapped in righteous indignation
Racial Genocide portrayed as moral
A resurgence of evil
Cloaked in the unbridled vitriol
Of absurdity redux
As if murder can be justified
Brutality rationalized
Lies are lies
No moral high ground provided
In the context of victimized cries
Their purpose unveiled
Their motivation made clear
Their goal remains fear
To silence debate
To hinder freedom
To destroy humanity a piece at a time
Until all that remains is a tyrannical mindset
Heralding an end to the legacy
And the grand experiment called
Mankind.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
A Radical Idea… Freedom
I question their purpose
In challenging the moment
Their continence hate
The people of fate
Anti truth they purport
As they create their facade
Of the their own darkness
Projecting it, creating it
Ever evil manifested
An image recreated again.. and again
The shadow of life, antithesis of light
In monstrous presence, to intimidate
Their word kill apparent to end debate
They believe this tactic new
Actions to late to matter
Announcing true nature in oral hate
They come like Denizens of the dark
To steal the resolve of the strong
Kill the free heart in a deluge of the idiots peril. Logic lacking the rely on blood letting
To silence the bold spirit
To eliminate the resistant will
As the bulwark maintains the line
The past testified the persistent message
Our fathers words echo clear
From that dark fate survived
They call to us to remember
The legacy they left
Behind
And the price they paid
For our
Lives.
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
