Some Old Poems

If you hate poetry....pass this one up!

I have some old poetry that was too personal to share on my old blog where some of those close to me might not understand...or appreciate. I feel safe to express them here. And since writing and sleeping is all I seem to want to do right now...here we go. More to come I promise. A nap is beckoning me.

The Next Life

March 26, 2008
Whose to say it’s you and me?
Whose to say what’s meant to be?
There’s you
There’s me
There’s me
There’s he

He the presumption of what could have been
He the assumption of what should have been
He my imagination creates in sin
He who confirms with the glint in his eye
Perhaps the illusion is not created by I.

Sitting too closely
Lingering too long
Whispering too loudly
Baring a soul I can’t reveal to you.

His ear is a golden funnel
Open to my thoughts
Interested in my needs
Daring me to entertain thoughts of evil deeds.

Never confirm it
Never speak it
Never hint at it
We never acknowledge this, whatever it is

Our mouths never utter words of devotion
Our words never steer us to dangerous ground
Only the look, our eyes reveal the notion,
That perhaps…..there is an us.

Both committed,
Both in love.

Yet this invisible rope draws us
Each time we are near
Closer and closer
And someday I fear
That our eyes will betray us
To those we hold dear



The one I am sworn to love

I will forever love

But he might not know the real me

But there's someone that seems to be....



Someday in my next life
Perhaps he will be
The love that today I presumed he could be……
© J Stark



River’s Road
January 31, 2007

He is a mystery
This little man of mine
With his little personality
Changing at drop of a dime

Mad sad glad
Giggle wiggle scream
March kick stomp
Whisper speak sing

His own special song
Known only to him
“Menamee Menamee”
He sings
No explanation of what it means

I want a crystal ball
Just a quick peek
Will he follow his dreams?
Will he try?

Curious about life
Curious about things
Always seeking knowledge
Drink it in, Drink it in

Caught between the need
To be my baby
And to be Daddy’s little man
Poor child what a choice to make

Toddlerhood is much like being a teenager
Never sure which road to take
Am I a boy? Am I a man?
We will travel this road again someday……
© J Stark



This one might have made it to my MySpace blog...but I still love it.



One Way Ticket
January 31, 2007

A discovery,
Of who I used to be.
Something lost is found again.
Something old is new again.

Me, Me, Me,
Where have you been?
The train dropped you off early,
When you hopped on for a ride.

You had a destination.
An assumed destiny.
A picture in your mind,
Of who you thought you’d be

Your ticket said the last town.
You stepped off in the first.
It was seemingly safe and normal,
An effortless comfortable choice

The town you’re in is nice.
It’s sweet and cozy and quiet.
Very little drama,
The perfect escape

Hiding from yourself.
Hiding from your past.
If you try to be who you’re destined to be,
You will have to face your yesterday.

The train whistles in the distance.
It’s coming back again.
Can you find your ticket?
Is it tucked under your pillow?

If you flag it down
And show the engineer
That you got off too soon, will he oblige?
Will he let you back in?

How’s about three more?
For you can’t leave them behind.
Tuck them in your suitcase,
Are they ready for this ride?

To a new an exciting place
With someone they don’t know
A shadow of the girl he loved
So very long ago.

You think he knows
Somewhere deep inside
That you never meant to stop here
When you took that little train ride.

But maybe now you’re here
He’d be willing to go there.
And love the girl you used to be
You never showed him her.

© J Stark



Jokers Wild
For E


Two of a kind
She and I
Both a few cards short
In the deck.

I the joker, always smiling
I Entertain the crowd
She the Queen of Spades
Captivates every soul.

One too big
One too small
Both just trying
To be.
Or not to be.
That is the question….

I grow a little each day
Wider and rounder my flesh pulls at my bones.
She on the other hand shrinks away
Bones try to hang onto her flesh.

Knowing full well the result of my feast
I am never full enough.
Trying to find satiation and the promise of
Misery.

If I could crawl in her brain I suspect I would find
She is never empty enough.
Ridding herself of all of the pain with the promise of
Misery.

Nobody understands
Not everyone is dealt this hand
So easy to say “Just put the fork down”
Or “Just pick it up”

Simple simple solutions
Complicated reasons
Simple simple remedies
Unreasonable requests.

Strange how our paths crossed ways again
The Queen and I.
Our cards had been dealt in separate games.
Today we barely know each other,
And yet we do.
Soul mates and kindred spirits never forget,

Strange how we find ourselves in this predicament
The Queen and I
The game we play now the same.
One of us hiding behind layers of flesh
One of us trying to disappear.
Neither of us facing the mirror.

If I look in the mirror I hope to see her,
Small and frail and beautiful.
But I see me
Large and soft and beautiful.
I wonder what does she see?

We’ll finish this hand,
The Queen and I.
Till the dealer has dealt his last.
Someday we both will see ourselves
As we were meant to be.
© J Stark