"godlier" poems
Regrets (Going Home)
I’m sitting at the stop light waiting for the light to turn green
Traffic is bad and I’m waiting for an hour it seems
The song on the radio is playing one from Red
And thoughts keep spinning ‘round, like a carousel in my head
I’m living like I’m driving: always moving but not taking time
To be in the moment or to read the signs
Going through the motions on autopilot every day
What more is there to life? Is there a better way?
What have I been missing that is hiding in plain sight?
There is more in this world outside my personal plight
You know I’m thinking about you now
And I sit here wondering how
You are doing and everything I’m missing
I had so many chances and here I am wishing
Hoping I could go back and do it all over again
To be there for you to be there for my best friend
I lost sight of what was truly important in pursuit of personal gain
I have all this money but the fact still remains:
I have no family now and money simply cannot fix
This emptiness inside the sadness from all this
I want you to know I’m sorry and I was so wrong
I never realized how much I had until all of it was gone
Please know I pray for you and for the kids whenever I can
I know I could’ve been better, been a Godlier man
I could’ve gone to church on Sundays, prayed a little more
I could’ve stood up for our family: a thing worth fighting for
If only I had been aware before all that I now know
I might have done things differently if so
I have come to understand a little a purpose far greater than me
Life is more than just a job, money, or nice things I believe
It is family, it is love, it is a something that you feel
In your heart, in your soul, and it is very real
Helping others, taking care of yourself, being there, showing love
These are all things that matters most if push comes down to shove
Then again it’s not too late to try to reconcile
I’ll take responsibility for consequences and go the extra mile
The only thing I would ask is to keep me in your prayers
And that you know wherever you go someone really cares
The song changes, the light turns and I continue heading home
To a place I can go back to no matter how far away I might roam
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
Ask not the name of the man who speaks here.
He has traveled the long dusty way, and
Through pastures sought the better life and the
Way that is not broad, but narrow, unsought,
And travailing yes I say that I have
Come to this, now, that you may, unto me,
Ask the undying question that is of
The everyman and his suitors many.
For I say unto you, I have witnessed the breaches of man’s will,
And have bought talent with shrill motion.
I have sauntered upon the long dusty way, and I say to you
It is not what it figures, appears not
As it seems to me, yet I long the toes of my feet through its dust,
Admire the gentle gleams that aspire
To godhead like me, to Sunlight with crystal formations and dust,
And longing have I perspired here
Long hours in the midnight drone, and have bought with cheap glass the fire
That is promised only to the man who has nothing.
This I say to the longing, the begging, the thieves,
The stealing conniving and prattling on like
Bees in the springtime, honeybees so forgetful,
So lusting after the next flower, to make good
On the oaths of children and fathers, to find that
No oath could be so magnificent, no oath could
Make good what thing the sailing Odysseus sought,
Might have sought were he of godlier kind, might have
Heeded were he not of the atrocious living
You and me, but so we are and so we must contend,
Contend with the flesh and the life and the death, the
Longing, the dribbling, the hours ill spent, to find
Not to find, and to live not to live, best
It seems to you and me, prattling and squandering
Life for the grave, with little time left: Such are we made.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC