Enough
March 29, 2009
There are no limits
To what I can accept
There will not be enough
In any day, week, or year
To overwhelm or wear out
Or to shut out or hide from
Or to cause me to turn away
From you
When the gates open
And the flood comes rushing in
When all sentiment is poured out
And the good and the bad are known
Even with pain and discomfort
It will not be enough
To change my heart
Of which you hold a piece
~wbv
Remaining Changed
March 23, 2009
Had you never changed
I would not have known
What I was losing
But you did change
And now I know my loss
Dreaming of a second chance
Another changing, another turn
Until we finally meet
Yet you remain changed
Without any sign of relenting
They say “some things never change”
And “dogs return to their vomit”
And mumble things about old dogs and new tricks
Sometimes regardless of conditioning
You can’t change the nature of the beast
Outwardly you may attempt to make a difference
But inside remains forever
The true nature
What, then, can be done?
Nothing.
~wbv
Hanging Fruit
March 6, 2009
Hanging fruit
I try to reach
I try to taste
I try to see
Hanging fruit
I want to know
I want to hold
I want to show
Hanging fruit
Is not yet mine
Until I pull it
From the vine
Hanging fruit
I hope to take
And know the sense
Of sweetened taste
~wbv
Random Negativity
February 28, 2009
I’m moody
I’m a cynic
I’m overly critical
sometimes
I think too much
I get anxious
I worry
and I overreact.
I’m morally relaxed
A liberal
I’m apt to throw out
ideas for which I can’t
find believable evidence.
I can be difficult
I like both
Freedom and control
I’m full of contradictions
I’m a walking paradox
And I like it this way.
I’m overly complex
And irritatingly simple
I anticipate sadness
and difficulty
I see them as covert positives
As fuel for
The fire of the soul
Having said that,
hardship scares the hell out of me
and while I know I benefit from it
Part of me
Still hates it.
I get mad for no reason
Happy for no reason
and sometimes want to be sad
for no reason at all.
I forget important things
about important people
and sometimes don’t pay
attention to what’s being said
I can be difficult to know
Though all I want is to be known
My lack of trust
Can make that difficult.
I’m skeptical of faith
Leery of experience
And doubtful of expression.
Sometimes I would rather listen
To the orchestra in my head
Than the melody now playing
And I spend the whole movie
Just waiting
For it to end.
I’m not as peaceful as I want to be
Not as focused as I want to be
Not as kind as I want to be
Not as loving as I want to be
Not as gentle as I want to be.
“There’s always room for improvement”
Is an understatement.
~wbv
The Pause
January 25, 2009
Before the pause,
There are words and meaning
After the pause,
The message begins
While made of empty silence,
The pause holds meaning
A new beginning
A rest before the rest
Call this nothing
Call that everthing
But it won’t change
The significance it holds
The pause is here to remind us
That silence is golden
And words lose
Valuable meaning without it
~wbv
The First Word
December 31, 2008
The first word isn’t always
The most important, nor is
The first word
The one that says the most. Even though
The first word may be forgotten by
The time you reach
The end, we are still indebted to
The first word for what it begins.
The statement starts with the first word.
The second word depends on
The first, and the first word depends on
The one who speaks it. Who speaks
The first word may not speak
The second or third.
The first word always comes before
The last word, which in this case is the
End.
~wbv
Sand
December 9, 2008
If you walk in sand,
Some of it inevitably comes with you
With each step,
Countless little hitchhikers tag along.
If you continue to walk,
The sand keeps track of where you’ve been
The impact you’ve had will last
Until the elements come and wash it away.
If you pour sand,
it travels little by little
Each grain waits its turn
And eventually follows the crowd
If you throw sand,
It scatters helplessly
Spread out, low impact, and gritty
Yet penetrating unknown places
If you dig in sand,
The hole you dig is temporary…
There is nothing permanent
About a hole dug in the sand.
If you eat sand,
It would probably taste really bad.
So don’t eat it.
~wbv
Somewhere
November 18, 2008
Somewhere, the yellow moon rises
Over the tranquil waters of a quiet pond
Creating a perfectly calm mix
Of reflection and reality
And nobody is there to enjoy it.
Somewhere, a writer is writing a book,
Pouring out their heart onto the pages,
Telling a story that the world
Desperately needs to hear
And it will never be published, or read.
Somewhere, a heart is breaking,
Filled with anguish and devoid of hope,
Waiting, watching, reaching out in vain
For the mere possibility of friendship
And that heart will never find what it longs for.
Somewhere, a child is dying,
Sick and starving to death
In serious need of food and medical care
With no parents, no siblings, no friends
And nobody around to give a damn.
Someday, Somewhere
Someone will read something like this
And decide to feed the child, be the friend,
Publish the book, and find that picture-perfect reflection
~wbv
Hidden
November 14, 2008
Beneath, below
Beyond, away
Far from sight
And not to stay
Folded, covered
Lost, between
High in flight
And not yet seen
Shattered ceiling
Broken wall
The untold story
Will answer all
But answer not
This doubt today
The shadow stands
And walks away
~wbv
