There used to be enough
Dreams to go around
Now it's hard enough
To hold a single one down

No longer able
To reach the highest heights
Of all the wish I may's
All the wish I might's

Remember when we used to have
A much longer list
One at least if we tried
We could almost grasp

Now all we do is struggle
To even write it down
Outside of this bubble
In which dreams once were found

All the drams that we had
Holding us so tight
All the wish I may's
All the wish I might's

Have simply slipped away
The way dreams sometimes do
Flying out the window
Along with our youth

Nem élhetek, se nem pusztulnak tovább
(I CANNOT LIVE NOR DIE ANY LONGER)

For Miklós Radnóti

I build this
bridge of words
so that I can

walk back over time
and take
your hand

you to me
this man
made only of words

talking out of a book
and I only able
to touch you

with these
used words
of mine

I clasp your hand
in mine
call you friend

*

Miklós Radnóti, the Hungarian poet, was shot by guards after a forced march from a Serbian labour camp in 1944 and thrown into a mass grave. When his body was later exhumed, a notebook of poems was found sewn into his clothing so even from beyond this lonely grave his words insisted on living.

"Don't walk past me, friend. Yell, and I'll stand up again!"

I reach out my hand made of words and touch your words that still make you a man.

As I’m quickly scrolling by
Out of the corner of my eye
I see a Bible, saying or verse
The origins of everything, the universe

Quick stop! all noice, Internet chatter
Dig deeper, what’s the subject matter?
A burning desire to know more
Research books scattered on the floor.

Daily God will give me a sign
I only have to seek and I shall find
Words from the Holy Spirit filled my mind
To study, learn, and grow
Most  importantly, the thirst, to know

The Bible is the roadmap to salvation
Stories, parables, and Revelation
The last generation is upon us
People, don’t have a clue, or make a fuss

Life will pass them by
In the blink of an eye,
they won’t know, why?
In desperation, the people will cry

If , my last breath
is a martyr’s death
I will know, I’m Blissed
My soul, God will possess

I wanted to take care of you
as if you were the last sunflower on Earth
but winter ravaged this garden.
Despite my best efforts,
I watched your petals wither
before my helpless eyes.
It is true that I did not know
how to take care of you,
but I’ll be ****** if
I had not given you my all.

I took the train into the tunnel
the car lit with candle glow
there standing just so
my brother with a wan look and a slight grin
I leaned to kiss his forehead, felt the taut skin
Mom across from him,
I placed my cheek against hers
two tears from the deep cavern of her sadness
fell on my constant brow  
Dad faced me with dazzling cheer
eyes full of joy that his son was here.

Awakening from the abyss of night
I arose with a smile inside
grateful for an intimate ride
with that poignant cast
an interlude to abide
and flutter in the sails of family
arrived from a pulsar of the past.

That day visiting with friends
I hugged every one tight
cherished the lush
precious
present
of the living.