All posts filed under: Humanist

Fear

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As I laid down beside you, I let every bit of air leave my lungs You were everything I thought you were, and I must let you go You covered me with an anointed oil that has no antidote the residue is something I have come to accept I outlined your silhouette, with my hand  I touched my heart as if it was a tangible object to stroke and console At times your presence has provoked my inner child moreover, you have reminded me of my pure humanness please let me lay beside you, so I can stare into your reflection I promise I won’t need you forever  Only tonight, when I need to hear you breathe when I awaken, I know you will be gone as the first blinding ray of sunlight enters my room I will know, you have let me go Carl Meadows April 14, 2016

Don’t Count Me Out

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As I crawled from my childhood battlefield, I remembered the voices of hope, like a permanent etching in my mind I was never good enough, strong enough, quiet enough every time I had “an idea”, it caused the stone figures to shudder The forces of conformity weighted on me like a hundred bricks The passcode was easy to remember; “do what we say, not what we do” At times I felt the aloneness, as if I was taking the last possible drop of water yet, through hope, I always believed another tear would quench me And then the test began, like a lightning storm in a forgotten dessert You were there to feel the bolt You may have scarred me, torn at my skin and even made me weep  But you will never change the fabric of me My power isn’t one of dominance, ego or dishonesty  It is the most frightening one of all As I touch the hearts of those who know me through kindness, you will never know love, peace or redemption  …

Shame

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It was too dark to see much of anything,  other than the silouette of a white sheer headscarf covering your face I was drawn toward the cavernous darkness, surrounded by a shadow, lit by the edges of the crescent moon The darkness gave me an eerie comfort, as I had been there many times before Thinking that shame had created every waking fabric of my being, knowing it was the pen that wrote many of my scripts or the patches on my quilt that completed me When I walked along side you, I could hear your footsteps, words are unnecessary, and I know the imprints of the past are behind me Why do you awaken so fiercely, when I am unprepared for your defening roar? Should I numb all my humanness, to keep from succumbing to the schoolyard scars? Your whispers unleash all my secrets, only known to me When you startle me, I become something foreign to myself What teachings haven’t I learned, that you persist like the plague? Can you not live without …

A “Selfie” and me

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As I watch the world in front of me, I notice all of us have at times lost sight of life, which is the one right in the moment staring you in the face. I watched an entire dinner party take pics of their food, and “selfies, and no one was having conversations. This poem isn’t about shaming the “I was here” culture of taking pics, its provoking us to wonder if our need to “be here and seen” via social media is preventing us to see the greater wonders of life pass us by.   A “Selfie” and me I was “here” the other day and time got the better of me, I took a picture in front of the sea, and forgot to float on my back and dream I lost a day because my battery died, I didn’t enjoy my dinner, as I had no one message me, they must have tried? I forgot to say I love you, because I was surfing the net and couldn’t find the time, maybe tomorrow …

Gum Girl

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Gum girl Who would you be, if you could see the perils of me As you reach for my finger and tell, about the gum you have to sell What if your joy was richer than mine; would we see through a window or hide through a blind What if your smile meant everything to me; it’s not worth a dollar if I have no time to “be” What if your happiness captured everything I’m not; would I give it all up to sit with my mom in one spot The laughter and smiles and mud puddle jumps, makes everything better in a world full of bumps Life is precious as time moves on, I’ll dream of the girl with the gum from now on~ Carl Meadows January 5, 2015

Friend

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In the early days of my becoming, a friend appeared It wasn’t a handshake or words that sealed the deal It was something as simple as air A feeling that the space between us was beautiful and safe It didn’t need fixing, coaxing or modifications, It just was, as it always had been   As I turned the pages of the memories, and realized our lives have been a puzzle of decades I see what has always been An ageless miracle, filled with light A knowing, that you will always be there   At times, a cast of thousands can cloud even the bluest skies, When I need you, the lightest of whispers can call you from the distance You were there, as you always have been, Beside me all the time   Carl Meadows December 27, 2015

The Rainstorm

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As I stood under your streetlight Your pelting streams cut through the reflection And burnt my eyes with imagination For every ray of success Was a puddle of failure I can’t imagine holding the expectation of success When disappointment has cut the deepest of scars And I’ve touched them often The buffet has fed the masses When the belly has gone hungry As the vision has heeded such beauty The grief has caused me to succumb, and I let you go The future will tell the tale and become the imagination of the next generation of those who dream big and are willing to fail Acceptance is the liberty of all possibility I hold you up to the light and let you go with no expectations As I stand in the rainstorm of life, Failure is a beautiful gift and I thank you The world is changed as a result Carl Meadows November 1, 2015

Looking for me

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In a sex induced culture and in a long term relationship it can feel at times like you are missing out. Particularly when you are questioning your beauty as you are getting older. This poem captures the essence of feeling confused and the possibilities that comes with a new way of “kicking the door down to finding yourself”. Looking for me So many images with faces like me, How are they different; what makes them unique I see them sitting with friends that they know, Laughing and drinking with their arms all in tow I want to be like them, whatever that is I was like them once, and never let anyone in I can’t imagine they want to spend time with me Over forty and not twenty Monogamous and hitched In a culture of sex, what could be worse than this? Where are my friends, I wonder, do I push the away Do I fear them finding out I’m insecure and afraid I’ll make sure I ‘m smiling or traveling in style So a …

The Promissed Land

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As a stood before you, I knew it was a long way to the promised land I believe it existed, as I had seen it in my dreams so many times, like a kaleidoscope that suddenly stops moving; clarity As I looked out to the flock, I knew there were so many hearts like mine and the power of feeling loved was deep The sceptics were amongst us and the critics had yet to show their sharp and piercing teeth The path to the place of solace and peace would be long and trying for even the toughest of man The dust cut my skin like a plague of termites and the thirst of hunger and air was more than one could endure The vision was clear and the purpose was solid; the cracks on my feet cut with each step As the enduring ache ensued, I though of you and closed my eyes; I was pulled forward with the hope of tomorrow As all the days before the many yesterday’s had left a trail …

Playground

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I believe in life, many of our adult struggles and pain come from the metaphor of the playground. This is a poem that captures that primal need to belong and the ache that ensues when we get left behind. Playground As I stood against the shimmering sky, I waited for you, as if you were the most important moment of my becoming I waited in anticipation of the laughter and the belonging, that comes with a moment on the swings The running around the bushes and the counting to ten, as everyone scatters and hides The climbing of the poplars and the pretending that comes when you are standing on the top of the world, as the rooftops appear like doll houses The feelings that come with belonging to something bigger than ourselves and the proud elation that happens as the stories of the playground make us worthy As I sat on the tidder todder, it became apparent, that I was alone and there would be no saviour to elevate me. Emotions felt like a …