Leaving The Past: To Become The Future



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

Echos Of Eden: In The Spaces In-between



Echos of eden
In the garden of discontent
Lost innocence in the electronic spaces
Alone in the spaces between electrons and life
As the transients of the new age suffer unrequited love
Wandering aimlessly, the web of uncertainty
Seeking, searching their golden moments
Instants of connection, moments of solace
Connections of mental communion
Or physical ardor
Alone in the crowd, a soul among many
Wanting, needing …. something
A patriarchal reminisce
A matriarchal memory
Healing that empty cold experience
Or to forget the treasonous moment
And the fact they were abandoned by life
Separated by distances by languages by blood
Realizations become evidence
Evidence becomes clearity
The world is simply a grand illusion
The actual truth is it isn’t really here
At all.

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe

Measure of a Man



A man of unbridled will
Unwilling to compromise
My life for any
I wake the day to blaze my own path

Not looking back to past failures losses
I live for this moment
People come and they go
I am unwilling to bend to the selfish heart

Or the narcissistic desire
Life is what it is
A gift to be taken if you are bold enough
To rush the fearful unknown

You live in this moment
Or die for past regret
Charge forward toward the places
Angels fear to tread

Bold courage is the power to be wielded
Fear a thing ridiculed by action
Unwavering determination
Marks a life well
Lived

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe

Memories of a Life: Lost



Tattered leaves left scattered on the floor
Remnants of things that were valuable
Signs of life that have once been present Real
Now passed usefulness just leftovers to show what was
Shattered dreams left abandoned
Hopes that never were
Nothing left to covent
Wind blowing lost ambitions away
Yellowed with age
Pieces of a life as worthless as the pieces of paper that remain
Littered among the cobwebs and dust of neglect
Mere shadows , phantoms of another time
Another place
Another life
No one left to morn it
No one left to remember it
No one left to care
Thanos has taken his due
Leaving an empty place
Where abundance once ruled
It’s all gone now
Empty
Wasted
A place that even the memories now fade
In a decade … or maybe two
Even they will pass
And
Be
Gone.

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe

Snapshots, Moments and Memories



In the quiet of the night, I see her there
The beauty of her face calling me
Wanting me

Her eyes like jewels, the blue of the sky
Glimming bright and alive

I feel my heart warm as she beckoned me near

Her smile moved me.. her laugh was love

I saw her there in dreams calling to me as we shared an umbrella on a rainy spring day

Oh, how I wanted her as we were caught up in our youth…. in the moment

I snapped her picture, and there was no one else there, just me and her and the spring shower…

Locked in the moment
We loved in the moment

As we shared our youth
The moment
Ourselves

Alive together , we relished
Each other, for an instant, we were one
Closer than friends
Closer than lovers

We shared a bond of youth
A bond of life
A bond of experience
We may never cross paths again

But we experienced life in all its many
Facets, colors, feeling
A marriage of youth
Of life
Of love
A Snapshot, A Moment, A Memory
And in the end, that’s all we really are left with…
Snapshots, Moments, and Memories
A love forever remembered.

An Original Poem By H.R. Beebe

A Moment Of Clarity



We are lost in the darkness of an uncertain world
Adrift on seas raging with the unknown
Each moment, an affirmation of our aloneness
We navigate this journey alway afraid of our own choices
Left or right, we ponder in earnest as if our lives hang in the balance
The stress of not knowing is the rub
The Sword of Damocles is always there waiting to end us
As we imagine our own failure of reason
The truth in the thought, the proof in the idea
Failure is only a choice, success as well
The truth is that you choose your path, create your fate
Reality is in the doing, not the image.. not in the fear
Destiny is in our grasp.. when you understand this, you win
And move on.

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe

Encounters



Sometimes, we are lost in the moment
Caught up in the flow
Adrift in our own existence
Too focused to know

We have moved forward
But, not yet perceived
That we left behind that moment
And those we thought we need

Touching spirits for an instant
To gain insight
To gain hope
Then faded those connections

Like mist at dawn
Burned away by the rising sun
Until just memories remain
And in time, even they are gone

Need is a powerful thing
A motivator grasping for gain
Until we understand
We already have everything

The emptiness is an illusion
The encounter preordained
The experience was inevitable
As the Spring rain

Life is a series of moments
That has been given since time began
To be savioured and learned from
Then, it is released as you move on

Those we encounter…meet along the path
They were sent there to teach a lesson
Abundance is within you
It’s always been in the palm of your hand.

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

An Errant Soul Found

I have a secret, it took a long while
to understand
I am my own man, I don’t require
another person to grant me self worth
With age grants understanding

You can’t lead me, control me or force
me into a box called normal

I don’t need constant supervision,  or
a person to decide my fate
Win or lose, I am my own person
Those younger might judge me, yet truth
is I don’t care what the world thinks of me

I have been, son,brother,husband and father
I served my country, and did every labor job
you can think of
Being forced back into someone else’s idea
of who I should be is not happening

I’m too old, too jaded and I am not ruled by my
biological urges, or someone else’s whims
I control my destiny,  and will never go back
to the fool I once was

I will walk my own path, alone or if you choose to follow, but I will never surrender my
will again.

An Original Poem by H.R. Beebe