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Sun beats down on loose stones
Beneath climbing feet.
Heavy pack rests
On weary shoulders.

Sweating brow, dry throat, burning eyes.
Moisture absorbed by hot dry skin.
Heavy burdens rest
On weary shoulders.

Tired body accomplishes
Tasks of the mind.
Cool winds strong
Where the peak is high.
Heavy burdens fade.
This poem describes the feeling of accomplishment of a hike up a mountain, with a hint of comparison to conquering life's troubles.  Feeling the sun and the breeze on a beautiful day in nature is a conquering feeling.
11h · 65
One Last Time
Turn out the light and follow me.
Come along and you will see.
On this night, this one night,
The truth tonight you will see.

Come along, have some faith,
Believe in yourself, believe in me.
Turn out the light and follow me.
Come along and you shall see.

Sunshine and morning’s dew
Spider webs on sidewalks, gleaming bright.
I wish we could see the sunrise
Together one last time.

Breeze blowing through our hair
Souls reaching out, touching ground.
I wish we could feel the sun
Together one last time.
Letting go in a failing relationship is finally admitting the defeat.  Like an addict, I was willing to trade most anything for another day, another moment with that person.  in the end we face the harsh reality and move on for the better, but while in the midst of it our heart pleads for that one more chance.
I can recall moments
Lost in time
Very long before I met you.
Images of me and you.
At face value, this poem describes having memories of a loved one from before ever meeting them.  At a deeper level, it describes knowing and understanding the nature of the person that would make a valid partner.  Knowing the qualities you seek helps one to recognize them when they finally meet that person.  I'm not saying it should be overly detailed though.
11h · 39
Testing Ourselves
Sometimes we stare
Into the eyes
Of oncoming cars
Merely for the thrill of it,

To pretend as they do in stories
That the good hero darts away
Just in time,
While the evil villain is crushed
Beneath the vehicle, blood on his lips.

We wait
Until the last possible moment
Pulling back
To understand
Which role we play.
We better ourselves by facing our fears and confronting challenges.  It is always an eternal test to see if we measure up to the task.  Does the problem beat us or do we overcome?  Is it fair that I compare the struggles of life to the fight between good and evil?
Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play
In the streets of the city.
Morning’s far away.

We’ll dance in the streets,
Race under the stars,
Staring into the eyes
Of oncoming cars.

They’ll tell us their wisdom
In archetypical style
Of the roles that we play
And if we survive.

The dogs of the city,
They howl and they fight,
Then fortune they share
For our hungry delight.

When morning comes early
With its fresh silken dreams,
We shake off the dust
Of what we have seen.

We’ll feel the warm sun
Wake our guarded souls,
To feed us again
As we make our way home.

Our lives have been spent
Living other’s requests.
Now is the time
For our own conquests.

The streets of the city
Are daring and sheer.
Come with me now.
Experience no fear.
Our couple has escaped the village where they grew up and moved to the big city to build a life.  They learn and they grow in time and experience some success and realize there is still more out there for them to seek.  Night serves as a symbol of the unknown future where we cannot see what is in front of us.  The cars represent the challenges of life that we face and either overcome or allow them to run us over.
Playing games you never lose
Is like never having to say you are sorry
Even if you should be,
Or accept being wrong
Even if you need to be.
Somewhere along the way I learned you can't go around thinking you are right all the time.  Even sometimes if you really are right, it is ok to be humble, or at least keep your mouth shut.  The poem says it more eloquently.
Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play
In the fields of the village.
Morning’s far away.

Still crisp air holds its breath
In silence as we watch
Moonlit shadows creeping west,
Forever out of reach.

We try to chase the shadows
Running through the trees,
Standing tall like rocket ships
Against the lonely seas.

Come along and run with me,
The fields await our gaze.
There lay mysteries to be seen
Beyond the twilight haze.

We’ll chase our noble destiny
Into the howling storm
And catch those fleeting shadows,
Running with open arms.

We’ve stayed in this tiny village
Longer than we aught.
The world awaits, bold and bright
Even if we’re caught.

It’s time to make our journey
To lands far and wide.
I’d rather face the future
With you by my side.

Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play.
Time to forge our future,
In the streets with me today.
Growing up in a small village, we feel we must escape and move on to bigger and better opportunities.  Night takes on the symbolic guise of the unknown future.  The ask of the partner to run away with the speaker and join them in life harkens to growing up as well as escaping a tired boring existence.  Risks await our couple but so does the chance at greatness
Dried and crispy coats the lawn
Bright or dull it matters none.
Crying out their silent protest
Against this quick and second death.

And yet their friends keep coming
Dropping in, joining the parade,
“Wait don’t start without us”
Not knowing they’ve been betrayed.

Hiding in weeds or fleeing with the wind
They resist their fate in quiet desperation,
But the mower knows no empathy.
Inevitably they face their final destiny.
Falling autumn leaves given personality like lemmings running to the cliff.  Nothing deep and symbolic here.  Just a stab at humor.
1d · 207
Believe At Least
I’ve run out of things to say to you
I who love how language feels
Cannot see your thoughts to know,
How to ask what you conceal.

Perfection is fine to a point,
An everlasting urge
but I’d never breathe again,
If I did not share our eternal love.

The exquisite princess of maiden joy
Can sacrifice her honor and her name,
By giving of her sullen self
from within her hidden carnal dream.

Understand the silent plan
The never spoken thought.
Reflect on days never lived,
Answers never given, never sought.

Receive please what you are due.
Believe at least that I love you.
How about those one sided relationships?  Dense me stuck around too long a time or two. Before eventually moving on. Here’s to that romantic who takes forever to come to grips with their fate
He ventured outward into the realm of the day’s conquest.
A time of sentiment for touching the vast flashes of wisdom,
There he tasted the sweetness and basked in the promised pleasures.
All around the dominion gave its gifts, and he received their joys.

Contently he strolled through warm rain laughing with the trees.
It had been a time of unknown frontiers,
A passive union of feeling and potential,
When he questioned his reasons and his sanity.

He asked for guidance to confirm the object of his quest.
He felt others asking the same words as he.
Soon he understood the collective, the visions of flower and bloom.
Further ahead the fence remains high and hard to climb.
Written shortly after graduation from engineering school.  The world awaited my conquest.  I still had much to learn.
Psychedelic scenery floating ‘fore your eyes.
Blue-suited Principals wearing two-tone ties.
Hazy-gazed burnouts who cannot count to ten.
Corduroy robots reading Steinbeck’s pen.

Academic junkies roaming though the halls.
Starchy marching minions hearing the drummer’s call
After-school side hustles, workin’ to earn some dough.
Smoke-toking teachers sharing what they know.

I wear my mask when I go out to control what’s on display
At Friday football parties and keg stand soirees.
I hide my mask when I’m alone to keep my nature pure
Revealing to no one else the fact I’m insecure.

We made it through a troubled time
Of change and introspection.
We viewed our goals with raging fear
And pursued them with keen aggression.
In a nostalgic sense, the 1970's was a great time to come of age.  New social freedoms, the end to the conflict in Vietnam, distance from the unrest of the '60's.  But in truth the '70's still contained many challenges as businesses failed, people lost jobs in large numbers.  Our futures were uncertain in the tanked economy of the late '70's.  This is my look back at those times and my suburban high school on the shores of Lake Erie
We are children of the night
Listening silently, gasping for cool breath,
As love races in the darkened recesses of our minds.
Wings flap through a starless sky
With a keen and clear precision.
We feel the day’s end through the harnessed rapture of its warmth.

Now is the time of the children of the night
Formed in bands of eager delight.
Poised with purpose they roam, hungry.
Dancing in the soft, silent, breeze,
Like knowledgeable dogs hounding the air
Awaiting the whistle of command.

We delight to welcome these new times,
Bidding farewell to the old days.
Believing in the lure of the night,
A faith too real to be subdued
Even when seen by burning eyes
In the face of the western wind.
Written during a period where I worked an odd shift and rarely saw the sun.  Being awake only under the moon and stars brings a new set of thoughts and ideas to the forefront of the mind.  Naturally i had to write them down.
1d · 3.3k
Anger and Pain
Some say anger and pain are cousins
Always traveling as one.
I’ve felt them both in my days,
Intertwined, solidified,
Almost premeditated,
Enjoying their journey.

But I prefer laughter with my pain.
True partners in survival
A touch of humor in the sorrow
Tempering, if even a shade twisted,
And each glad day
Can carry its drop of pain.
Anger is the natural response to pain and heartbreak, but humor is the healthy response allowing us to process the hurt and eventually move on.  This contrast of the two responses was inspired by the Robert Frost poem Fire & ice where he contrasts the two ways the world might end and how he feels about both avenues.  Both poems even start with the same first two words.
Today we played, my friends and I,
In rain in the city streets.
We laughed aloud and teased our games,
Rendering our joy complete.

The sun came out and shared the town;
Seasons changed to warmth from cold.
Tomorrow, again I’ll meet my friends
To feel the water and the mood.

But tonight, I will dream of you.
To feel your voice in your breath,
And sense your eyes touch me
As I gaze into their thoughtful depths.

Moonlight plays in the city streets
Forming shadows as we run,
Confronting demons beneath the stars
While dawn in the distance reigns.

We dream we share our secrets
Indiscretions and hurtful pasts
Told as gilded tales
By immoral sociopaths.

I share to you with confidence
One of my poignant dreams.
A tale of stirring fantasy
Where images are not as they seem.

Passage waits beyond the gates
Its doors are silent still.
Before them lies with all its will
A sordid, chilling tale.

Cold snakes coiled on soiled paths
They spring in naked truth
Biting hard at every turn
Retelling their violent youth.

Poised to prove their stranglehold
On phantom victims’ crimes.
It’s here we hide the willing sin
We’ve accepted many times.

My days have served to comprehend
These cords of velvet sin,
Whilst night comes as a saving fury
To cleanse my soul within.

As dreams become reality
Our thoughts embrace their role
And we resist the curse of others
Playing mind games in our soul.

Within me stays this silent stance
A constant holding firm
Amongst the ever-changing days
And nightly dreams and thirsts.

In times of almost madness
We hear the willow’s cry,
From these nightly games of memory
When they’ve heard our apt reply.

My past I’ve viewed with broken heart
As I’ve walked the vacant streets
I’ve cleansed myself in daily rains
Praying for final release.

It is here I hunt for solitude,
And here I find my soul.
I search my heart within myself
To learn what I have always known.

If rain is baptism for repentance of sin
And sun the reward for what I’ve lost,
Stars know solitude only in silence
As dreams prove my freedom at last.
Poem talks of overcoming the adversity and some poor decision in our youth and taking care of one's mental health.
Robert Moe Sep 5
AUTUMN

Dusk sets in.
Cool breeze filters through stones on the pier.
Distant lights of the city glare, opposed
By a sun of scarlet and orange
Disappearing through waves
Beckoned by the sand.
Trees nearly naked stand as soldiers
Behind the shore guarding the water
And its unending journey,
Moving only in rhythm with the wind.
Light gently fades
Dimming the horizon to nothingness.


WINTER

Frozen patterns of beauty
Scrawled as nature’s marking.
Crisp leaves of cold
Standing watch over a hardened lake.
Blanketing layers of ice
Coat the shore, silent save for the wind.
A setting sun gives of itself
The last warmth of the day,
A dying time as dark sets in,
Leaving cold bitterness, it drops
Below the horizon,
Chilling the flesh of the Village.

SPRING

Sunset casts its narrow ray across the water.
On the far horizon, the top of a sail slightly seen
With each swell of the waves then disappearing again.
Storm breeze chills at the touch of skin.
Violently waves approach
Battering rocks on the pier.
Breaking high,
Surf mists couples as they watch
Feeling water cling to their clothes.


SUMMER

Sun sets in the west
Where children yearn for their freedom.
Shadows resist the streetlamp’s glow,
Drawing insects in the haze.
Warm and damp, silence shades the town.
Liquor bottles replace the nourishment of mother’s milk,
Graduate potions for the poisonous dark,
Where the children congregate
Awaiting the weekend’s potential.


END OF SUMMER

Help me bring our boat ashore
And stow away the sails.
You’ve shown me trust in a human heart,
And taught how friends can share their warmth,
If only for a little while.
I don’t wish these days to end,
But different dreams we’ve drawn in the sand
And carved in these stoic cliff walls.
We must now follow our separate paths.
Summer’s over, it’s time to part
And return this ship to pier.
Huntington Beach, Bay Village, Ohio is where I attended high school along the shoreline of Lake Erie.  The beach was a popular hangout in the warm weather, but in the off-season became a place of solitude and introspection where one could sit for hours and watch the waves with no one else around.  

Each stanza in this poem was written during the particular season.  The inspiration for this format is seeing Monet's water lilies and other garden-scapes that he painted at different times of day and different times of year to capture the nuanced differences in the environment.  It seemed to be a valid approach to show a poet's viewpoint of the same setting viewed under different circumstances.  Adding the fifth season was a way to make the piece more unique and not just be talking about times of the year.

The poem includes people in the view during the warmer parts of Cleveland's weather, and no other people when the cold kept the timid and less desperate at home.  cheers.
Sep 5 · 84
Walk In The Park
Robert Moe Sep 5
How are you with long walks
At night through the park
Where shadows pepper the imagination
And thoughts flow on
With nothing to hold them back?

I love to take those walks in the dark
Both alone and with my friend,
Deep through our mind
To visit lost images,
Memories that live in the shadows,
Remnants of the past.

Do we remain in the shadows
Where my friend with knowledge dwells,
Or do we bring to light those images,
Reviving older times now asleep,
Permitting them a chance to escape?
Journey through one's mind for introspection and reflection is sometimes done alone and sometimes with the aid of others.  Sometimes we meet a new facet to our personality and then need to decide if we retain it or if we keep it buried.
Sep 5 · 193
Ancient Poems
Robert Moe Sep 5
Ancient poems resurrected and recited
From the murky depths of history,
You hold, against your breast,
The fresh warmth you now perceive.

I tell you tales of my youth
Of day and night, dawn and twilight.
Alive still in my beating, aching heart,
And now held in my hands to reveal.

You ask me to start from within myself
As I recite these vivid scenes.
I feel still, loneliness when you don’t notice
I’ve shared my sacred dreams.
Have you ever shared the deepest, most recessed parts of your psyche with a partner and they do not receive what you are sharing?  Does that mean it is time to move on?
Sep 5 · 402
YOUR SHORE
Robert Moe Sep 5
There's a beach where the sand
Won't get in your shoes
Or stick to your skin
When you're covered with sweat.

The shore's always clean
No trash or dead fish
And the water's still
Clear enough to drink.

In your mind, I hope and pray,
There's room for me
To kick that sand around
And be with you on your shore.
Poem uses a beautiful beach as an analogy to a relationship.
Sep 5 · 410
SUNSETS UNSEEN
Robert Moe Sep 5
Sunsets unseen look
Just as real as sunsets made
Immortal in LIFE.
Old timers will remember Life Magazine filled with beautiful pictures of nature and people.  This poem asks if those sunsets were unique and special or if they all are even if not photographed.
Sep 5 · 186
SUNSETS
Robert Moe Sep 5
Men with cameras
Sit and wait for the sunsets
Poets see all day.
To record beauty takes a camera.  To see beauty takes a poet's heart.
Robert Moe Sep 1
In the story of life that continues
From the distant past
To the infinite future,
Now as things happen,
No matter how important they might seem,
They are just added
As a single item
In an endless list of many.
Poem reminds us that each moment is but one piece of an overall history.  One piece taken by itself may be insignificant but added together they comprise a full story.
Sep 1 · 158
EXTREMES
Robert Moe Sep 1
I have this urge to create,
To write,
To pen,
To elaborate
Upon my dreams
And set them free
To spell them out
For all to see
In their extremes
They do protest
That I have not
Finished
The rest.
Creativity finds its way out of our hearts and minds.  The words some days come easy and fast.  Some days they won't come out at all.  This was a day when the poems wrote themselves.
Aug 30 · 180
Time Cures
Robert Moe Aug 30
Time cures most everything
And helps to heal the breaks,
But shortages of resources
Tense and test the zeal,
Creating less of what time makes
And more for it to heal.
Hurt heals over time, but there is no guarantee that it is not just a learning to live with the pain
Robert Moe Aug 30
You once said you loved me
You said you once loved me
You said you loved me
You said you loved
You loved
You once loved
You once loved me
This poem started as a play on words and structure.  One word added, subtracted or order changed each line.  Behold a truth.  The poem represents that changes in a relationship take place over time, one piece at a time.  People rarely fall out of love overnight, but rather it is the culmination of many events over time.
Aug 30 · 179
CAFFEINE NIGHTS
Robert Moe Aug 30
On caffeine nights when I study late
And drink for concentration,
I lay awake with open eyes
Wishing I could sleep
Peacefully and dream relaxing dreams.

Dreams where I conjure
Up images of running in fields
Of clover or corn
Of wet sand between our toes
With the tide rolling in and out over our feet,
Or lying in bed
Holding you in my arms
Sharing love to Quincy Jones.

I lay awake under the covers
Cold in the room above the blankets
Where I am warm and secure
Wishing I could sleep and dream.

Sometimes we cry for sleep
Where we can be alone in our beds
Without companionship
We don’t know if we want
But we know we sometimes need.
In college I used to frequently drink coffee to stay awake and study.  Who didn't right?  Then I'd be too wired to sleep once I was done studying.  You either lay awake, tossing and turning, or you relied on other means to fall asleep.  That pathway is partially described and some parts not hinted.  That is another story for another day.

— The End —