bela-matyas-feher
A friend suggested that I share my work here, so here I am. I write mostly sensory-inspired things, but occasionally, I will expand into other arenas. I don't like to edit, so what you get here, with the rare exception of fixing the occasional typographical error, is usually off-the-cuff, ex tempore, etc. Some is good, some....I wouldn't call it good. But the point of being here is to continue to write, and to share. Maybe something I write hits home for someone. Maybe it makes just one person's day better. Maybe I will never know who that might be - but if I ever make one life better, even for a moment, with my words, then I can die complete. Life is too short to waste on unkind words.
it's cold here, still,
in a way i had long forgotten,
the morning refusing to let go of winter's chill,
even though the birds can be heard singing
with the beginning of the morning.
i can hear the streets outside the hotel,
already bustling with the commuters
on their way into the city,
a strange orchestra of sounds,
caressing and assaulting my ears
that have not yet awoken.
i'll leave today,
and head back to my regular life -
it will be a relief,
and yet, i will be sad to leave this place,
these people whom i have gotten to know a little,
and even the cold mornings.
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 7:25 AM UTC
sun shines today,
but if offers me no warmth,
winter's last hurrah in this,
the desolate green country between north and south,
between winter and spring,
when a forecast means little
and the prognostications of a rodent prove asinine.
but there is joy to be found,
when a crowd will roar for their heroes,
and the hopes of a city once again move
to the shoulders of the boys of summer.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 10:08 AM UTC
the first was when i heard you,
across the street,
down a ways,
in a place you likely would not expect me.
i doubt you knew i was there.
the second was the other day,
i was sitting in a coffee shop
when you walked by.
i think you saw me then,
and crossed the street.
like there wasn't history,
perfect strangers
never having known one another.
i was on edge for only a moment or two,
and then it was gone.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 12:30 PM UTC
i saw you today,
barely recognizable if not for your voice,
and for a short moment i was tempted,
to turn and watch.
but why?
to what end?
there would be no point.
i wondered if you saw me,
and realized that i didn't care.
it didn't matter.
i saw you today,
and i think i had to,
just so i would know.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 8:56 AM UTC
they told me a long time ago
i had "promise"-
and i didn't understand what it meant.
and then i wrote more,
and they said i was "good"
and i thought "that's cool."
then, i began to see something -
i looked for patterns and found them,
recreated them,
studied the masters,
emulating their techniques,
and i thought i knew what i was doing.
then the awful truth hit me:
no one cares.
you can write in whatever style you want,
and no one cares.
because it's not about the things you say,
and it's not about how you say it -
it's about what the audience hears.
And it's about understanding -
that none of us are great,
we simply ARE.
Greatness is for the generations that follow.
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC
and as i went,
i encountered this thing,
new,
and yet,
it felt as though it was something
i SHOULD have known before,
like it was always there
in the background
waiting for me -
familiar, as though in an old life,
but new to me in the here and now.
i longed to touch it, taste it,
know it on every level,
make it a part of me -
but in doing so,
part of my innocence would be lost forever.
i tasted anyway.
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 10:39 AM UTC
the mind goes,
rambling on with thoughts unbidden,
coming at me like a freight train,
unstoppable
until a phrase, a word, a sound
brings me back to the sane quiet that centers me.
it's a voice,
strong and pure,
but simple,
not commanding, but gently reminding me
that there is love in this world,
there is beauty,
and there is purpose.
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 12:50 PM UTC
each little thing
goes up in flames
small things that don't matter,
but for the fact they've been held onto
for far too long.
each one
a small reclamation
of myself,
purging the old things,
making way for what is new and vibrant.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 11:41 AM UTC
sometimes
i think that God is just
a little bit of a show-off,
just so that
we're reminded that there
are good things
out there,
and life is beautiful,
and no matter how badly
we ***** it up,
faith in Him makes things better.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 11:20 AM UTC
a walk in the woods on a cold morning
before the noises of the world awaken
and bury my mind in the business of the day
with the whys and where and incessant
thumping of questions and answers
and timelines and delays
is where i find the peace
the time to be alone
and ruminate on the divine -
yes, to pray in this church
with the birds and the winds as music
to my meditation.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC