Listen To Your Heart

Listen to your heart.

don’t let the ghosts of the past

dictate your future.

Listen to your heart,

look for the bright sun beams

and

ride them to your happiness.

Listen to your heart,

don’t be drugged by the letdowns.

Wake up to hope

and

ride the rocket through the pine groves.

Listen to your heart,

it will provide your map to your goal.

What you want to be

will be.

Remember, you are not alone.

We are with you in your journey

and

in your heart too.

Listen to your heart. 

to a special boy 7.4.2014

Information

I just named my current unnamed manuscript "In the Land of Wheatgrass and Oaks"  

Untitled VII

The vivid dreams

that were once my

realism

now lay stark

in the

threshold of time;

Collecting dust at foot

of attics door.

written in 1979 from  "Echoes From the Belltower"

Reflections of Boston

A placid sunset over

architectural feats,

arched bridges;

people

walking briskly with social grace

towards destinations unknown……

Jets

racing towards the clouds

.........reflections...........

from rooftop seats

overlooking the muddy Charles.

written in 1985 

Love Affair

You changed over the years

this left us many a day full of tears.

Your smile does not heal anymore,

your words…. Echoes

missing the substance they once had.

Your thoughts, too focused on yourself

which is ending our love affair.

We are hurt, felt detrayed

and most of all lost as parents.

You had such great hopes

all lost within your self

We hurt no more,

forever ever more

Farewell young man,

life will treat you as you treat it!

This is a work in progress 

Wanderings

We

walked along a brook

through the night,

past the lampposts, rails,

neon signs and trails along the way.

We

saw people fade completely

out of sight.

Briskly the wind blew

on our stone cold faces,

sneezing from the bitter cold 

inhaling

frozen air into our tender virgin lungs.

We

walked across a pond

past a lighthouse,  a bench.

We

inhaled an ugly stench of

cities life.

We

ran to a mountains retreat

and we stepped briskly, briskly, briskly

towards the gangplank of desire.

What It Means To Me To Write #2

I thought I would explain what it means to me to write poetry.  Poetry is a way for me to get inside my emotions and thoughts, much like assessing your subconscious with active words. Writing has always been a way for me to explain my thoughts, concerns, friendships, things that have happened, and love. What I could not say or feel on the outside I could write about from the inside. I was 13 when I began to write prose and shortly moved to poetry. It was a succinct way for me to get my thoughts across rather than some ballooned paragraph.  It has been a great way to express my purpose using alliteration and metaphors to really bring out the true hidden thoughts.  Writing, yes, is an escape but it is what makes me truly love life, people, and all the surroundings with a passionate feeling.

Many things inspire me to write and for the most part it is the relationship between me, people I know and my thoughts about them.

Bill