Eagerly waiting for an anticipated response
When the response comes, I grin happily at the sight of it.
Patiently waiting for a time to see his one-of-a-kind face
When the time comes, I gaze with an undefined pace.

Could it get any better than this?
My heart seems to only be longing for one thing
A thing that is irreplaceable
A thing that isn’t destructible.
That would be to unlock the door to his heart.
Something tells me that I have already found the right key.

I entered his heart.
It looks messy, perhaps a bit tangled.
These vines wrapped around his heart are conspicuous
I cut them up, his heart begins to calm down.
With my last bit of love, I wrap it delicately to cover it entirely.
To protect it from coming into harm’s way.
Forever
And Ever.

When I walked past the casket,
And I set down at my pew,
I tried to conjure memories,
That would remind me of you.
While others cried, I stayed silent,
Cursing myself for seemingly not feeling a thing,
And when we left the church,
Numbness remained.

You lived a good long life,
You saw a lot through your lifetime,
We may not have been related directly,
But you were a close friend of the family.
You’d been through more than I could imagine,
You were around well before I came around.

The person who preached,
Who summarized a life in a few paragraphs filled with sentences,
Said something that stood out to me.
“Eventually, they’ll come a day,
Where more people you know are beyond than down here.”
While that seemed to be a cause for celebration,
All I felt was existential fear.

I’ve lost a lot of those I loved.
My neighbors to the right,
And an uncle who tried,
And now I can add to the list a family friend.
Through each death,
Death held my hand,
His cold touch led the way to acceptance.
I can’t change what happened,
Can’t bring them back to leave a few more years for me,
Until I was satisfied,
Cause I know I’d never be satisfied.
Though, as I cried,
He traced his bony finger across my cheek,
Drying my tears before he left,
Leaving behind a few simple statements.
“The loss you feel is proof they mattered.
Don’t let their death add to your mental clatter.
You believe in a place beyond this mortal plane,
So why waste your tears when you know you’ll see them again?”
I laughed in his face.
“If only it was that easy, Death.”
I remarked with pain.
Yet, as he left,
I knew he was right,
Barbara,
We’ll meet again,
In due time.
Until then,
Take a look down here now and again,
I’ll know.
So,
Farewell for now.

I wonder sometimes

how it's like this
And then like that
In this world

why others eyes are firmly shut
Others wide open

We see things how we want to
Not how they are

Our lenses are so fogged
So senile yet so young

Because our emotions
Are volatile and full of greed

But are those excuses enough
Knowingly or not
we killed someone's will to pull through

I want you to listen—
listen without interrupting,
without judging,
without fixing.

I want to speak without shrinking,
to explain without reaching,
to be heard—
truly heard.

I want to feel safe before I unravel,
to feel seen before I am bare.
I want to rest in your silence,
to trust in your stare.

I’d love to hug when it's over,
love to cry on your shoulder,
love to be loved—

But is that the problem?


-aPensivePoet

I rarely understand,
or, in any case,
I am the last to understand

a stream flows for the first time, trickling up from earth
air, hushed in the still of night,
then puff, a breeze

O' to witness that glorious space in time
a river magically unfolds, alive
wind, from nothing, begins to blow
a flame arises, unbidden
a universe bangs big

our hearts beat as one,
As we fall in love
for the first time

All over again.


njcoleman    march 2025

How do I smile?
How do I frown?
How do I laugh for a while?
How do I scowl?
How do I sneer?
How do I tell people how I feel?
Why don't I show people how I feel?
Why don't people understand?
My face
How do I change the look on my face?

They told me I was loved.
Said it like a fact, like a given, like air.
And I nodded, let the words settle on my skin
but never sink in.

Because love—love is hands reaching,
but understanding?
Understanding is knowing why mine pull away.

I sat in rooms full of people who swore they cared,
but no one asked why my laughter always came half a second too late,
why silence fit me like a second skin.

They called me beautiful, said I was smart,
but never saw the way I flinched at echoes of my own thoughts.
They held me when I cried, but no one ever asked
what the tears were trying to say.

I used to think I was ungrateful—
to have love but still feel lost.
But now I know:
Love can be loud, can be warm, can be everywhere—
and still not speak your language.

So if you’ve ever felt this way,
like you exist in translation,
like love is the ocean but you are still thirsty—
I need you to hear this:

You are not wrong for wanting more.
You deserve to be understood.

Understanding but
Not really feeling, the need
Others have when they
Absolutely cannot be
Without someone else around.

What do you see, nurse, when you look at me?
A frail, weary man lost in time's endless sea?
Do you sigh as you dress me, as you lift, as you feed,
Thinking my silence is nothing but need?

Do you see only hands that tremble and shake,
A mind lost in shadows, a body that breaks?
Do you see the dim eyes, the slow, shuffling gait,
A soul out of time, just awaiting its fate?

Look deeper, dear nurse, beyond this old skin,
Past the wrinkles, the frailty, the world closing in.
For once, I was young, with fire in my chest,
A heart full of dreams, unburdened, unpressed.

I was a child, with laughter so bright,
Running through fields bathed in golden-hued light.
I was a lover, my pulse racing wild,
Holding her close, love's innocent child.

I was a father, strong, steadfast, and true,
Teaching small hands what life could undo.
I built and I shaped, I gave and I grew,
Watched them all flourish, then bid them adieu.

Now time plays its tricks, and my body betrays,
Yet inside I am dancing through long-ago days.
My spirit still soars, though my body is weak,
My voice still longs for the words it can't speak.

So look at me, nurse, not as fading, not done,
Not just a burden, not just anyone.
See the years, the love, the battles, the scars,
The dreams that still shine like forgotten stars.

For within this old man, there's a soul fierce and free,
If only you'd look, if only you'd see.