Sometimes, the dark
Is the reason for the light
The pain of loneliness
Gives way to the peace
Of finding another heart
In the day to day
We move through time
Hoping for the high road
A chance to live better
Want better
Even when you live alone
In the moment
The hope is there
For a chance at more
Better
After giving everything you can
The hope is still there
A chance for understanding
A chance for love
To get moments
I suffered for
Yearned for
A lifetime of living for another
Living as someone else
Never for myself
Just me
Change meant letting go
Of the pain
Of the past
Change meant walking away
From who I was
To finally become
Who I want to be
To finally become
Me
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Fates Folly
Lost in the images
Doors to different feelings
Different faces
Different futures
Possible futures
Impossible losses to be experienced
Obsession the naked ego
To need everything
Want everything
Only to understand
Fates cruel trick
Fates merciless motive
After a lifetime to give everything, a man could dream of
Only to punish him in the same action
Leaving the choice an unbearable act
The sword of Damocles waiting to drop
You can have one future
But not all
With a blessing comes a curse
Pain with pleasure
A Masochistic moment
Choose your path
But , live with the choice
With love comes pain
Choose your action
Actions have consequences
You will be loved
But you will be hated
The balance will be maintained
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Illusions of the Real
Places in Time
Experiences of static reality
As the moments tick by
We exist in a bubble
A bubble of self-absorbed reality
Of our own creation
Our own belief
Not what is no no
Lost in what we think
Objective truth is foreign
To our selfish desire
To be lost In our own revelry
Alone in what we see
Each an island unto their own instances
Their own creations
What is right or wrong?
As they forge their own path
Embark on their own journey
Alone in their delusions of grandeur
Believing their own illusion
Accepting their own lies
Until one day, they see the truth
They never really experienced
Real life
At
All
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Tundra of the Lonely Soul
I stand in the empty stillness
Alone… yet cold
The promise of the light is there
If temporarily
A promise
Of warmth, of Love , of life
Amongst the silence
Loneliness
A glimmer of hope
Redemption
Though it’s the in-between times
That tortures the soul
In whispers of diabolical words
Deeds
Anguish is conveyed
The mind is a most evil jailer
Punishing my promise
Damning my thoughts
Of what could be
A touch , a caress, a kiss
Of him
Woe my busy mind
My active imagination
My sundered heart
My soul cast to shadows
The shadows of uncertainty
It’s not knowing that is the tormentor
As I dwell there waiting,
Tic… tic…. tic
Alone with the hellscape
Of my bitter worries
As time stretches forward
I’m left to wonder
Is it my foolish pride, my stupid assumptions
Or is it I who is the ultimate fool
As I stand here in the nether gloom
Of my solitary countenance
Contemplating my own mortality
My own insolence
Believing the blessing of peace
Of love
Dwelling here alone
Hoping
Needing
In those empty moments
I dream of her
Only to have my salvation shattered
By the memory of her words
The coldness without her kiss
Those times feel like death
No peace to the heart without love
I see life , but with here
Every activity was just a day you died just a little
A life devoid of love is no life at all.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Lost: In A World Filled With People
When did it happen?
When did you leave me?
Was it a word or a look?
Another man or my pride?
When was the moment you went away?
Emotional stability fails in the face of loneliness
How can I compete with a shadow, a dream?
How long has it been since you were mine?
I wonder each day, is there more I could have done?
A word, a song, an action that could have stimmed the tide?
Changed the outcome
Stopped the inevitable
Changes come, and changes go
Though you became another person
I remained the same
I gave everything that was mine to give
You still were gone
Not in an action or an instant
Yet , you left nonetheless
I could feel it, see it in your words
Your disrespect is evident in your deeds
You left me without a cause or an inkling
Just checked out, leaving no forwarding address
One day, I logged on, looking for a love
A word of solace
I was there
You were gone
The space was empty
I was alone.
Keyboard Purgatory: Lovers of Electronic Illusion
I spend my days living
In a fantasy world of electronic dreams
Created to blind my continence
Delude my emotional state
Toward Sympathy for shadows
Smoke and mirror aspirations
Created personalities meant to
Mislead, to control , to extract a
Fiduciary future
Phantom feelings
Lies of verbose deed
Repetitious sentiment
Regurgitated in Redundant fashion
To elicit desire
To elicit action
As they electronically whisper their solidarity
Promise their love
The demons of the matrix
And, I but one of their charges
Damned in my belief
That their illusions
Were never
Real
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Solitary Trek: Life Lost In Translation
Life the solitary trek
Alone in the cacophony of things, people
Searching for solace, for reason
For purpose in the meanless cavalcade of experience
An abstract journey to empty dreams
Hopeless revelry with lost expectation
Questioning rational logic as the cycle continues
The pain becomes reason
As bitter souls pursue feeling… some feeling
Amour , enmity any feeling and failing
Indifference inundates the jaded heart
Withers the optimistic perspective
Leaving husks of people that aren’t living
Aren’t savoring moments of memory
That in youth beheld wonder in each encounter, in each breath
Now , the barren mindscape a monotonous repetitive grind
As one day replays
Again and
Again and
Again.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Lagrange Point of the Lost
Imagine a moment
Touched by thoughts
Coalesced in a manifest destiny
Of possible fates
In endless succession
Of mindless repetition
Redundant , mundane
A predictable instant
A daily propensity for
Empty actions
Meaninglessness in motion
A life in relief
Held frozen in a temporal state of
Now
Such is the monotony
Of the average
Man
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
Witless Reflections:The Narcissistic Soul
A question of fidelity
The distance a bulwark against the truth
As a wall erected by her conceit
Hidden secrets, half whispered in silence
Of the lack of information of intimate knowledge
Promises of transparency in the face of stony emptiness
A face, a smile, an image of the past
As few present images are granted
As platinum need apparent
Colored by the petitioning heart
Trepidation ruled my consciousness
As I surmised my worth
A lover? A friend? A lifelong companion?
The drumbeat of my true purpose laid bare
I am the answer to a question, a means to an end
A solution to a dilemma
I’m an unwitting man
Who reached for love
But became a benefactor of a narcissistic soul.
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
The Villain Beneath The Red Mask
Empty words with golden desire
Promised warmth marked cold motivation
Hollow platitudes , for self desire
Truth is in the verbal persuasion
Of Narcissistic need
Hidden among flowery language
And self-serving intent
Gone are the loving attitudes
Promises of future mental intimacy
Accusatory assault replaces warm expectations
The real monster rears its head
Shrugging off the masquerade of care
The mask of compassion
Revealing the true purpose
Fiduciary endeavor , the bitter pill
Money is the need
And, I but a means to an end
An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe
