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A “Selfie” and me

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 there will be less on my mind

I’ve traveled the world and forgot to stop, sit and talk, I should have, could have, would have, is all that I’ve got

I took a selfie to remind me where I’ve been, I searched my pics and noticed backgrounds of experiences I missed

I forgot to take the time to just sit on a rock and breathe, and now age has got the better of me

How many times is an experience in front, and by the time it takes to grab the phone, the moment is lost

My hard drive died and all the pictures have gone

As I sit and search for my life memories, I feel terribly lost that I forgot to “be”, and experience the moments that disappeared in front of me

The only thing left in this world of wonder are my Selfies through a google search of me

Maybe today, I’ll just try to “be”, without a “selfie” and me

Carl Meadows,

January 12, 2016

Gum Girl

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


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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


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


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 visual shell covers the insecurity for a while

I wonder if they notice the wrinkles on my face

The imperfect teeth or my imperfect ways

Am I even relevant with all the beautiful men?

It’s hard to feel like a 5 amongst such perfect 10’s

How can they look as good as they do

What haven’t I done to be a good as you?

I’ll have the best parties and invite everyone I know

Just to make me feel better, that I’m not all alone

I’ll facebook some photos to look really cool

I’ll crop them all up, so others will want to be like me too

As I look at my images it becomes clear to see

I am looking through a persona in order to find me

I wonder if they’d notice if I slipped away

Never to return, or grace the planet again

Would they send me a note, a tweet or a poke?

Would they cry at my funeral or to busy to go?

My perfect life is anything but,

As I struggle for acceptance like everyone else

All I want to be, is the man of me dreams

I’ll continue wondering if I’ll ever find me

Carl Meadows Jr.

September 12, 2010

The Promissed Land


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 of broken dreams

As I took the last step over the hill and saw the beauty of the promised land, I realized then, I had been here once before

Carl Meadows

August 9, 2015



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.


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 hundred arrows

Was the invitation to the playground a ploy to watch me sit at the brunt of giggles and sneers. Was I the only one who missed the joke?

I sat by myself for what felt like days, as the setting sun hit my brow and I knew it was time to pull myself from the aftermath of aloneness

I walked home with my empty handed memories, and I knew that the playground, would now be forever, an eternal ache as I walked home alone with a throat sore, from swallowing so many tears

I knew then, in the playground of life, I would never wait again

Carl meadows

July 15, 2015