anyone at all.

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

a little boy in back of class
is struggling with each word;
his voice is not a strong one, and
it’s rarely ever heard

no gold stars on his papers, for
his efforts seem but small;
he isn’t anyone to watch,
not anyone at all

the day of graduation comes
and no one in the stands,
calls out his name across the stage,
no cousins, aunts, or grands

he’d never been a scholar, he
was no good with a ball;
he was no one of great regard,
nor anyone at all

he’d watch her from some ways away,
but was no kind of stalker;
he left off all that he might say
as he was not a talker

he never was a special guy,
not handsome, and not tall —
he wasn’t anyone she’d love,
not anyone at all

the night is closing in, and he
his taking his last rest;
he’s found that feeling nothing is
the feeling he likes best

just one more shovel in the dirt,
as rain begins to fall —
as no one mourns where no one lies,
not anyone

at all

The Music of Emptiness

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

We have known the music of emptiness,
and truth be told,
at times, we have sought it.

Times when we seek,
not to make sense of it all,
but to accept the senselessness
and vanity that comprises much
of life.

This is not sadness,
it is a hollowness:
this us not despair,
it is more like
resignation —

But it is also
a type of detoxification,
an emptying out
to allow for the possibility

of refilling.

Soft The Rain Falls

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

Soft the rain falls
On a little girl’s dreams
As the windows streak with tears

For the mother and father she barely had:
The ghost of her Mama, the voice of her Dad —
Before she came here to be told, “don’t be sad”
In this impassive place

Still the rain beats
On the roof overhead
As her mind jumps past the years

To a festive wedding with her the bride;
Lovely, with her Daddy there by her side –
But she can’t make the face out – the love, the pride –
Nor see her Mama’s tears

Sad the wind blows
From the far mountain streams
To join with her in her plea

Soft the rain falls
On a little girl’s dreams
With nobody there

To see

My Heart Belongs With the Lonely

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

My heart belongs with the lonely,
It’s where I’m meant to be –
Not in the thoughtless crowd, or off
Among complacency

My heart belongs with the lonely,
And will to them be borne –
For while I still have eyes to see,
I’ll comfort those
Who mourn

 

(“My Heart Belongs With the Lonely” – 7-15-2015)

Lightning On The Lake

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

There’s lightning on the lake tonight
The world is dark and wet
This house is full of memory
That I’d as soon forget

With loud crashes of violence
The sky attacks the earth
But can’t drive out the eidolons
To which my mind gives birth

This house protects me from the storm
The wind howls fruitlessly
There’s lightning on the lake tonight
And no one here
But me

 

(“Lightning On The Lake” – 8-17-2014)

By The Waters of Loneliness

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

It’s cold out here but worse inside.
And I have got no answers –
I hurt for you, my love, my pride,
But I have got no answers.

Still —

I wish I was a healer who
Could mend relationships, and do
A magic spell to patch our past
And you and I would soon outlast
The couples passing by, who’d see
Our open suitability
For long-time love, and long-held dreams –
That wouldn’t end in heartbreak.

But here its cold, the sun’s gone down,
And I have got no answers –
No questioner nearby is found,
And still I’ve got no answers.

Yet —

I wish I could bring back the days
And nights when you and I would say
That everything we’d ever need
Or want, our covenant and creed
We’d find in one another; where
The starlight meets the cool fresh air
Our love would last, and never die,
And wouldn’t end in heartache.

But cold and lonely flows the sea
The spray kicks up and covers me
And I have got no answers

 

(“By The Waters of Loneliness” – 12-4-2013)

silent morning

Posted on by Beleaguered Servant

she wakes to the silent morning

slow hears the cars as they pass by

struggling to move pillows into place

now she recognizes

the sound of the furnace

and memories burn into her like

coffee on frozen lips

alone

with her thoughts

in the silent morning

 

(“silent morning” – 11-27-2014)