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It’s twenty years ago, the end of August,
I was forty- five years old, by chance, I wrote,
My very first song/poem. I am sitting in the same room,
Like then all alone, When I received a sad call, on the telephone.
A drinking buddy, Randy, stumbling on the words, he had to say,
His buddy Jamie, fell off a cliff, his last step, his life,
Ended that day. I had never planned to write, a song or poem,
I could hear Randy’s voice, he was lost, so alone.
I remember, arguing with, a voice inside, of me,
Which kept, saying you can do it, just write you will see.
I gave it a try, I was probably high, Within about,
One hour, Jamie’s Song, I had printed in pencil, before my eyes.
To this date, I have around two thousand finished, with about,
Another four hundred started, I never finished those songs,
My siblings, parents, the lady I married, and Randy,
Left this life, they have all passed along. There is no happy ending,
At least for today, I do thank God, for the talent, of writing words,
In a special way, the ideas can arrive anytime night, or day I then try to arrange them, in an understanding way, then start another, and lay the finished one aside. A bittersweet feeling, I should feel proud inside,
I know there will be times in everyone’s life, we should have,
A beaming smile, which is washed away by tears from our,
lost miles.
                The Original: Tom Maxwell© 8/15/22 AD
It’s fun to Journey, inside my mind,
The more I search, the more I find,
Many Visions, messages, positive signs,
I collect, rearranging, into understandable lines,
What ever I’m thinking about, at that moment, in time.

The original: Tom Maxwell © 3/30/2022 AD
It’s five minutes to six am,
I have been receiving messages,
Then writing, I finished one poem,
At four fifteen, another at five-fifty am,
I’m tired, thinking of bed, with,
Twenty years, of experience, I have to,
Stay with the flow, it’s exciting,
When different thoughts, visit my head.
I have to catch them when they appear,
In my mind, without notes, or writing,
The subject can vanish, what a bind,
Never written, or said, always take time,
Listen to those voices in your mind.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 1/14/2022 AD
6:02 am
It was January, twenty - four, in the year 2019,
I was hurting from an infected, tooth, it was 2:00,
In the morning, I saw myself in A dream.
My image was standing, in the corner,
Looking about, 30 years younger,
In clothes, I use to wear, I could not believe,
I had to get up, and walk over there,
I was not afraid or scared, more curious,
Excitement, flowing in the air.
I remember, saying you are me, I reached,
To shake hands, only A blank face,
A motionless, body to see, The sound, of a vacuum,
Distracted me, I thought, it was early, for the maid,  
What could this sound be, I saw an image of my maid,
With her glasses, hanging, down from her head,
Then I woke from my sleep, I was lying in bed.
Was the infection, that bad, I was about to fall,
Then my subconscious, said, not your time,
Then gave me a wake-up call
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 12/10/ 2021 AD 7:00 AM
MuseumofMax Nov 2021
I’m sending you messages
Are you even getting them?

“Come back to me”

I hope you listen
Lanz Gabor Nov 2021
to believe in what was lost
for over a dozen months
-to fall in love, but slowly

from those old pictures
of blisses and grandeur
to new messages unread

for what reason was it
to be found living like that
only to be forced dead

now, one can never expect
a sharp cliff waiting for them
at the end of a short story
Chandana saige Oct 2021
You are so irritating without replying
but I dont want to break your rules
Oskar Erikson May 2021
"Are you still there? Are you still listening?"
"its not like i've typed out our conversations many times before.
the things we said in days previous, couldn't live too long inside of me
so my fingers got used to pressing against the easily bruised keys of the phone screen until every tap kept telling
to run,
lightly and with love.
its seeing the
criss/crossed markings like nautical charts. laying out the gorges and gaps ahead for us, why couldn't there be another way
i thought to set sail with your spirit
clutched tightly to my chest.
"i don't think so."
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