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Stephen E Yocum Mar 2016
They should have checked all
the road maps of their journey.
Three years married and they are
hopelessly lost in the barren desert
of the reality of their insurmountable  
differences and the once hot-blooded
impetuous ignorance of their lustful youth.
Too little, too late. Physical desire alone
is not love.
Stephen E Yocum Mar 2016
Her body was wrapped
in the finest Indian silk,
as any precious gift would be,
exquisitely sensual to his touch.

She trembled as his hands
opened and explored layer
by layer the sari her mother
had given her that morning.

Their kisses were wet and deep,
His breathing was as labored
as her's.

It was their wedding day
and first night together.
They were as yet children,
lost in the passions of first love.
Their shared rapture all consuming,
Soon, two would be forever as one.
Stephen E Yocum Mar 2016
Passions kiss on quivering lips,
naked skin touching now enfolds,
bathed in amber candle's glow.
For CJ. Yes, I fondly remember and always will.
Stephen E Yocum Mar 2016
It comes now without
preamble or announcement,
On the ending of the poignant
symphonic overture,
Or, the melodramatic moments,
of a romantic drama on TV.
A sunrise or sunset can do it.
A story retold with child innocence
recounted by one of my grandsons,
can bring me to my emotional knees.
My son calls it the result of my brain
operation a few years ago,
This emotional tearing up,
of my excess humanity.

I like to think it is a reward of sorts,
a blessing of age and well-earned maturity.
Sensing the end of the long traveled road,
gives my humanity, a focused clarity.
Stephen E Yocum Mar 2016
The days are long and hard to go,
Walkin' down my side of the road.

Up ahead I see Emmylou comin' ,
known her since we was 2 or 3.
Yet, she crosses over from,
My side of the road,
Making like she don’t see me.

Up ahead comes old Nat Black,
Shuffling along and limping some,
He marched with Mister King,
Over in Selma in ‘63,
That’s how he got that limp you see.
But still he keeps to his side of the road,
On the opposite side from me.

Further ahead comes Jake Sutton’s kid,
Strutting along at a pretty brisk clip,
A stout club in one hand,
and a white sheet tucked under his arm.
Off I bet, to burn a cross somewheres.
Him and his rowdy friends cluttering up,
both sides of this road I tread.

Sleepy little ‘Bama town,
With so much trouble all around,
I just keep on trudging down,
My side of the road.

Hoping someday, it will lead us all,
Someplace better and fair,
Then this divided road we all share.
Stephen E Yocum Mar 2016
I thought Snake Oil Salesmen were
a relic of the past, standing up on a stage dispensing
blatant lies and bogus even dangerous cures for
exaggerated imagined illness and or personal fears.

I thought we ran all of them out of town,
suitably tarred and feathered,
Riding on a hitching post rail.
Perhaps some things never change.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry.
Step right up folks!
In this little bottle, I hold in my hand,
is a magic elixir of my own imagination and invention,
That is absolutely-unconditionally guaranteed
To Make America great again,
All I ask for this be all, cure all, is one small vote
cast for me, crowning me King of all there is."

Now where did we put that rail?
Decency and intelligence should
rule the day, not stupidity and
meanness of heart. Dump Trump
in 2016!
Stephen E Yocum Nov 2015
It was my first Cathedral,
Cavernous and nearly silent.
Dark enough that I closed,
My eyes giving them time
To adjust to the depths,
Of it's shadowed blackness.

Languid slanting rays
Of penetrating sunshine,
Alive with moving mists,
Of floating, rotating dust,
The only source of light.

The bittersweet scents,
Of venerable age mixed,
With fodder and animal waste,
Not at all unpleasant to sniff.

Leather tack hung on walls,
Awaiting the call to work.
Long delayed, and overlooked,
Replaced by mechanical steeds,
Wheels and blades of steel.

Neatly festooned wall hooks
Displaying wooden handled
Hard-worn steel hand tools,
Flecked with rust, chipped by use.

The choir was in the rafters,
Pigeons’ and Doves
Cooing Heavenly Hymns.
Occasionally the murmur of,
Feathers flapping on high,
Like the sounds,
Of Angels wings.

I climbed the ladder,
Into the Loft up high,
Followed by a friendly,
Old one eyed Barn Cat,
I recall his name was Cy.

Old Cy who knew,
All the good places,
To explore and secretly hide.
And too, where tasty rodents
Were found in heavenly,
bountiful supply.

That lofty perch,
Among the penetrating
slanting rays of sunlight
Inspired a fathomless hush
of contemplation and inner bliss,
I'd never known before, or since.

We sat silent for many minutes,
In a state of transfixed repose,
Old Cy and I, speaking not a word.  

We crawled among stacked bales,
Of fragrant fresh cut hay,
Like a lofty Fortress built for us,
Playing and imagining,
Endless flights of fantasy,
Long into the eve of day.

Yes, my Grandfather’s
Old wooden Barn,
Was indeed a magical,
Reverent and sacred place,  
As any formal denominational
house, of any faith can be.

If ever, I truly felt,
The presence of Holy Grace
Surely it was within,
That impressionable
all inspiring place.

Even fleeing memories
of a long ago small boy,
Have not diminished,
That big Cathedral's
Prevailing, exalted space.
Spiritually overseen by,
An old, feline, one-eyed
clergyman named Cy.
Grand old wooden barns are a
disappearing breed.
Standing in various stages of
disrepair and non-use, replaced
by metal clad boring industrial
looking structures.
They are a relic of the past.
But anyone that has memories like
mine, told here will never forget how
grand they were. If you get a chance to
visit one, do so before they are all gone
and see if I was telling the truth.

I was recently in another big old wood
barn and was moved to write about it,
but found this older piece that pretty
much says it all. So it's a re-post.
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