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946 · Sep 2012
Meditations on Me
AW Davis Sep 2012
I often take walks down a nature trail behind my house on nice autumn days
and marvel at the majesty and beauty of nature surrounding me.
From time to time I end up walking for hours on end,
contemplating the improbable,  incomprehensible,
radically miniscule chance that I am indeed alive
at this very moment.
I like to think about my life and events that occurred to make me who I am:
the people I met, the things I said, the challenges I overcame,
the adversaries whom I defeated, and the ones I forgave.
I also think about the events in my life filled with regret:
the people I neglected, the ones I hurt,
the ones I hated, and the ones I shunned.
I let my mind wander to the possibilities of who I possibly could be
had I let that person into my home,
or volunteered more time at a shelter,
or was nicer to the ones around me.
I have always tried to live my life without any regrets,
but I find that the more one thinks about life
the more they discover regrets they never realized;
the ones buried deep down in the darkest depths of the heart.
Perhaps it is in my greatest interest simply to ignore the possibility
that I indeed have lived a rather selfish life,
only thinking of myself ,not others,
and hurting those around me in the process.
Perhaps if I were to go on living my life without thinking of others
and simply worry about myself and my own problems
then I'll be happy.
There is a chance that doing so would result in more happiness for me,
but that's exactly the point I have been struggling with:
only happiness for me.
I struggle now with the idea that it is possible I've been neglecting others
in return for personal and private gains,
whether that be fiscally, or emotionally, or physically.
I want to know what life would be like if maybe I were to start to live more for others
and worry less about myself.
I ponder on these nature walks the question of whether or not living for others
is the responsible thing to do, or should I only worry about myself
and from that society will benefit.
I want to help, I really do have a desire to do good in the world,
but every time I begin to start, I falter,
scared that I won't get anything out of it.
So the more and more I contemplate what my problem is,
the more I realize that the problem is me.
There is a little boy inside me that is terrified of doing anything
for the gain of only others and not himself.
The little boy inside me cowers at homeless on the street
and the opportunities to help them.
The little boy inside of me is constantly telling me only to worry about myself
and that the problems of the oppressed are problems only for the oppressed.
So I ponder this question on these nature walks as well:
Are the problems of the poor, the needy, the oppressed, the hungry,
the hurt, and the sick only problems to be fixed by them?
Should I be doing all I can to provide medicine, and food, and money
to those who don't have the opportunities and blessings I do?
I ask myself these questions constantly, perpetually in fear that I am indeed rather selfish.
Along these walks I constantly come across puddles,
whether big, small, large, skinny,
deep, shallow, stagnant, or rippling.
I find myself walking past ponds of many different sizes,
and every time I come to one I continue past it
without looking at all.
I'm terrified to see my reflection and who I really am.
880 · Oct 2012
A Place for Me
AW Davis Oct 2012
Often times I contemplate what is holding me back from simply going off from my life and walking
and walking and walking and not stopping until I find the place where I belong,
a place where the weak are strong and the forgotten are remembered.
If I were to drop my belongings and go about on my way not looking back then there is no way you
would be able to stop me with any of the games you play when others try to do this,
offering them money, fame, and fortune.
I want none of that.
If you were to offer me the most extravagant and luxurious palace in all of the country and world
and expect me to stop my search for a place that is rightly just
then understand that I would refuse your offer.
If you expect me to stop even if you try to give me all the money ever made by any mortal man            or being I will refuse.
If you think you could bribe me with a new shiny car-toy that all the big executives are just dying
to have then you must understand that you simply don't understand me
for I would refuse.
You could offer me the most coveted of status, being known across the land by all and the envy of any
person in their right-might and I would continue my walk,
my search for a better place.
I can't be bought out by any item of material possession, because the things of material possession
in this world don't matter to me.
If you really wanted me to stop walking then only one thing would you have to do:
Show me a place where the weak are finally strong, the poor are finally comfortable, the shunned
finally acknowledged, the forgotten finally remembered, the oppressed finally justified, the hated finally loved, the rejected finally accepted, the hungry finally fed.
Show me this place, and then I will stop walking,
For I will have found a place for me.
621 · Mar 2012
The Frosted Tree
AW Davis Mar 2012
Just down the road out of town,
It’s not a long way to go,
One will find a great strong tree,
A great strong tree covered in snow.

From the branches hang clear icicles.
The bark is covered in frost.
And in the battle of life and death
Life appears to have lost.

But take a walk up to the tree
And give a branch a shake.
And off falls frost and icicles.
A new branch it seems to make.

Continue this process of shaking branches
And soon enough you’ll see.
The tree was never dead at all,
Life has the victory.

The frost and snow do not convey
The truth the tree can tell.
That to this day and forever more
The tree has never fell.
586 · Nov 2011
Twelve Weeks
AW Davis Nov 2011
The man, he knew his time was small,
To tell his sweet love of it all.
He could not think of any way,
For him to tell of his love, to convey,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

His window of time, so the doctor speaks,
Is about three months, so maybe twelve weeks,
That’s not enough time, he needs more, he demands.
That’s not enough time to carry out his plans,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

So he does nothing, a month goes by.
Until one night, she breaks down and starts to cry.
The man puts his head on her shoulder and whispers “I love you”
And at this point in time, he finally knows what to do,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

From that moment on, he never leaves her side.
He even asks her to be his bride.
He knows his odds of living are small,
But the way he sees it, he may not get another chance at all,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

The next month is happy, four more weeks have ran.
Everything seems to be going according to his plan.
Until one night, he feels a pain in his chest,
He tries so hard to overcome this, he does his best,
To tell of his affection so strong for her.

He’s rushed to the hospital, where he’s looked at by the doctor.
She tries to go in his room, and the assistant stops her.
But behind the nurse, she catches a glance,
Of the man looking at her, saying he never fully got a chance,
To tell of his affection, so strong for her.

Into tears she bursts, when the doctor comes back,
Saying he had one final heart attack.
Then it hits her, comes to her attention,
That she never took a chance during his medical declension,
To tell of her affection, so strong for him.
AW Davis Jul 2012
Black smoke rises as the train enters the station.
It’s time I get out, time I leave this nation
For a while, but not too long indeed.
There are just a few places that I need to see
And a part of me that I need to discover.
I promise you I’ll return back here another
Man, but yet still the same me.
It’s time for a while I set myself free
From the world I am in, discover who I am.
The funny thing is, I don’t have a plan
For where I’m first going, first train I suppose
Is the one I will get on, get on alone.
But by darling, I really do wish you were here.
It’s too bad that you are not any place near.
Holding your hand would make this more easy
And seeing your face would make me less queasy.
But deep down I know I must do this alone
If I wish to return with myself better known.
The train’s now approaching, I’m slightly distraught.
But I find comfort now in this thought:
Though you’re not here, just the mere thought of you
Is plenty enough to turn my skies blue.
534 · Jan 2012
The Last Leaf
AW Davis Jan 2012
One day, at the end of the fall
I found myself looking at a tree.
The tree was mighty, great, and tall,
And the last leaf hanging, he spoke to me.

He told me of his troubles,
Of the loneliness he felt.
How it looks like he’ll be by himself
Until the last of the snows melt.

These things I took to heart,
Because the troubled me deep.
I looked at the leaf and began to start
The most important question my heart could seep.

I said “But you’re the last leaf hanging!
Aren't you the strongest of them all?”
He replied, “Yes,
But I’ve been terribly lonely since the middle of fall.”

At that moment it hit me,
That which kept my heart in a rip,
Courage and strength are nice to see,
But what counts in the end is friendship.
499 · Apr 2014
False Security
AW Davis Apr 2014
On the day I first met you
we were both staring in the void.
The better angels in my head
made their services employed.
But the inner demons of my heart
began to chime in too.
They were louder than the better parts of me
and so I fell for you.

We stood there in that open field
gazing at the sky above.
We noticed that our stars were crossed
but arrogance clouded our love.
We thought that we could take on fate
and so we built our walls up,
made of cigarettes and broken hearts,
false security installed by us.

We saw the tide come rolling in,
and we both knew that we weren't safe
on that precipice that was our love,
suspended high above the waves.
And when the tide came crashing down
we thought that we were strong enough
to face the waves, hand in hand,
but our locked hands became two empty cuffs.
493 · Dec 2012
Concrete Story
AW Davis Dec 2012
On the highway I'm a traveler
stuck between the earth and the sky.
Green signs to my right slowly tick the miles by.

It's been a long time since I've last seen you.
You were the best friend I had,
A true one through and through.

But then one night you reached out
and cried for help,
But I wasn’t there.
You were completely by yourself.

I should've seen the signs coming, they were everywhere.
No food, no sleep, falling hair.
They say it's something that must destroy to survive.
One of the simplest, but most terrifying alibis.

As I approach the exit, I shed a tear.
I can’t think of a life without you near.
I start to signal and I move to the right.
I take the exit, my destination in sight.

I approach the gates and they open wide for me.
Time to let it go, time to finally be free.
You don't know what you have
until you're at the bottom of the pit,
utter blackness surrounds you
and your fate you must commit
to the seemingly miniscule sliver of hope that life goes on.

I walk through the grass-paved rows
until I find your name.
All these stories etched in concrete,
none of them the same.

I find your story on its own underneath a tree.
I say some words, drop some flowers,
and pray that you are free.
377 · Aug 2013
Who I Should Be
AW Davis Aug 2013
I’m stuck between who I am and should be.
On the outside I have it together,
But on the in, it’s sin that consumes me.
Will I be stuck in this state forever?
I’m so quick to pass judgment on others,
Giving myself superiority.
But I’m the lowest of lowly brothers,
The least of these I am supposed to be.
And yet, the worst, myself I patronize,
But no change to me does it seem to bring,
And so, therefore, I’ve come to realize,
It does no good to let these sorrows ring.
So in the end, what matters most is this:
Don’t count your own, but count the other’s bliss.
342 · Sep 2012
Swim or Sink
AW Davis Sep 2012
No time to pack,
No time to think.
Let's leave here now,
Whether swim or sink.
338 · Sep 2014
Ocean Tide
AW Davis Sep 2014
You were my reason.
You were my strength.
You were my charity.
Who will take the blame?

You were the ocean tide
on that fateful night.
Full moon in the sky,
I held on tight.

Even my strongest grip
would soon prove futile.
The season was changing
so we pretended for a while.

Even in the deepest
part of my heart,
you'll find our season there,
even though we're apart.
316 · Dec 2014
New England
AW Davis Dec 2014
If I saw you today,
would you think the things I'm thinking?
If I saw you today,
would you feel the way I'm feeling?
The stars shined brighter through the lens of our love
and even though we played the odds
I guess it still was not enough
for you.

Is there some other way
for me to stand my own reflection?
Is there some other way,
other than self destruction?
Well these sleepless nights make me forget our reverie
but the cigarette between my fingers
brings me closer to the memories
of you.

Do the New England stars
shine any brighter without me?
Do the New England stars
dance for you profoundly?
From Oklahoma they get darker every day
and here I am
searching for temporal escaping from the pain
I thought was caused by you,
but really was caused by me.

Should I say goodbye
to you?
276 · May 2014
You Were Winter
AW Davis May 2014
I told myself to breath in deep.
The pain was just a subsidy
of love.
I watched the days, weeks, months go by;
I’m in need of an alibi
other than fleeting moments of joy.

Because they come like a lighthouse for a ship that’s stuck at sea
and only when I find them in the storm do I feel your love for me.
And all the time they’re getting sparser and though I feel love for you,
On days like this I wonder if my voyage ought to continue.

The nights were long and the days brought no light.
I came to you with a heart contrite,
asking if you’d relieve my suffering.
As the orange sun eclipsed the horizon
That final night brought our love’s demise in,
in the form of one last fatal kiss.

Because you were the winter to my autumn jubilee.
You took the weather that was already cold and you made me finally freeze.
And all the brightly colored leaves are now fallen, brown, and dead
just like our love. I should’ve left before the season changed, but I stayed instead.
And that last night, it was like a ball and I asked for one last dance.
But as the music started playing I realized my only chance
to be okay was to leave you, so when Fate asked to cut in
I gladly let him, and I left you praying I could start over again.
251 · Oct 2015
Enough
AW Davis Oct 2015
What would I have to say
to make you stay a little longer?
What would I have to do?
I wish I were stronger.

If I said that I loved you,
would you call my bluff?
But if I said I wanted to,
would that be enough?

What would I have to say
for you to finally leave me be?
What would I have to do
for you to finally set me free?

If I said I hated you,
would you call my bluff?
But if I said I wanted to,
would that be enough?

— The End —