Flash news real limping
Meal end dapper drink
Sealed sold elder tube
Tank swim tangle sink
Lair lube rule rainbow
Trial bend lord lame
Mean row much such
Wretch elbow link
River endear mender
Lines silver same ill
Will weird hand hen
Sordid vent voracious
Slender temple tender
Sender member ink
Mink mar man land
Kick quite quit mitt
Mark stark sand linen
Stint mint sort cavort
Leer weed read more
Roar ravenous steal
What’s inside the envelope?
Is it meaning?
Is it truth?
Or a lie, a shadow of you?
What’s behind
The face in the mirror?
Is it happiness,
Or, more probably,
Terror?
Stepping close,
To get to know you.
Reaching out
To touch your skin.
Are you real,
Or just an apparition?
Do you hear
What I am saying?
Are you listening
To the meaning
Behind the words?
Can you feel me?
Let’s be friends.
We’ll make peace
With ourselves,
And with each other.
We will be true.
We won’t hide
Behind empty rhetoric,
Or trite comments.
We will reveal our hearts
And souls and minds.
I will be
Who I truly am.
You will be honest,
Sincere, matter of fact.
You will be
Up front with me.
No games.
No power trip.
No controlling.
No fixing.
I like to wear
My heart on my sleeve.
Perhaps,
It just feels better
Outside of its cage.
Can I tell you how I feel?
Perhaps not.
Perhaps, you don’t want to know.
Perhaps, you don’t believe
In being honest with your feelings.
You think that some thoughts
Should not be shared.
But how can you know me, then?
How can you ever get close?
Don’t you want to know
The real me, as opposed
To the me who I am on the outside?
You can’t know what I’m really like,
Unless I tell you.
You cannot see the beauty in my soul
Unless I uncover myself,
Peel away the social mask,
The pretend me.
I don’t want to be a fantasy.
I want to be real.
I want to be me.
Why do my own words
Sometimes disgust me?
Gentle babes in my arms,
Now they turn their backs
And laugh at me.
They curse my name,
Reminding me
That I am only a man.
They tell me
That I have nothing to say
Worth saying.
What is the truth?
Are these words
Worth saving?
Is my mind
Just a wasteland
Of scattered thoughts,
Insecure feelings,
And random tangents
Of distraction?
Where is the meaning
In these silly phrases?
What is the redemption
For which I seek
In stuttering sentences
And asphyxiated hints
Of passing insights
That now escape me?
Perhaps,
It is all just a silly game,
And the joke is on me.
Seriously.
Little trigger happy elf,
Sauntering down the road,
Can you tell me
What life is all about?
Pretty dream girl,
Can you tell me of
Sad stories, but true,
Scars to sympathize with you?
Happy baby,
Bouncing on
Your Daddy’s knee,
Can you tell me
What you will see
In this great big world,
Eventually?
I wonder.
We all have stories
That we can tell.
We all know mysteries
That we can share.
We know things,
From insight
And experience,
And, perhaps,
From God.
What is true for you,
May be true for me, too.
But, then again,
Maybe not.
But, perhaps,
That is another truth
In itself.
What am I afraid of?
This sickness in my stomach,
That won’t go away.
Anxiety ripples
Through my body.
Is it God,
Or is it man?
Perhaps both.
But I know
Who I am
And whose I am.
And I know
Who holds the future.
If God knows
Even when the
Little sparrow falls,
I know he watches me.
I must sing
Because I’m happy,
And I must sing,
Because I’m free.
God will take care of me,
And my little worries.
He will be there,
Every step of the way.
He will carry
All my burdens.
No matter what,
I am his child.
With his help,
I can do this!
My new poetry book is now available on Amazon for $5.99!
If you’d like a copy, just click on this link:
Thanks,
Gordon
Varooom zoom con coupon
Lounge tackle tip strip
Leaf lack smack whack
Angel interloper round
Realm rouge reconnoiter
Table swing mouth tick
Temple teepee tinge
Order if rickety route
Make miffed lift lacking
Lean entropy slick mitt
Mood tube tease ticker
Teal seal sink sick psyche
Switch lick lout lever
Lewd limber lumber
Tent toward end loop
Breaking free
From what’s been done before,
Is no easy task.
To say something new,
Or to say it in a new way,
Takes courage.
To risk the scorn
Of naysayers galore,
Coming from every direction.
The worries can overwhelm,
If you let them.
But in order to break free,
One must be strong
In mind, spirit and body.
The toll it takes is significant.
To be sensitive is a gift,
But also a curse.
To be gentle, a risk.
For the world is not compassionate
To that lone voice,
Crying in the wilderness.
People can be cruel,
And they won’t think twice
Before mocking and insulting.
To be truthful
Is an aspiration that comes
With a cost.
Is it worth it?
Stumbling along the sidewalk 