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Posts Tagged ‘Looking back on our lives.’

“Regrets at the End of the Journey” copyright 2012 John J. Rigo, upcoming poetry book, “Passion Amidst Apathy”

Posted in Looking back at a life of Regrets, We All Have "Regrets", tagged , , , , on March 13, 2014| Leave a Comment »

 
 

Courtesy of lifeas5.com…… “Looking Back at our Journey”

One can not have lived close
to three-quarters of a century 
without looking back.
 
On this day I found myself looking back
at my own journey.
I believe no human can have lived a full life
without regrets.
 
There is a certain unfairness to life.
Wisdom seems to be the gift of the elderly.
It seemed lost to me in my own youth.
 
I am not proud to reveal
that I have known many woman in my life.
Many of them I did love
in my youthful way.
 
As I recall them in my own life
I look upon them
in my memories
with a giving and gentle heart.
 
I have learned in life 
we will only have one true love.
A love that accepted us
as we were.
Loved us totally
without a reserve held.
 
If we let that person
slip thru our fingers
it becomes a sorrow………….
we will always carry.
 
It is down the road that
our lack of wisdom becomes
clear to us in our choices in life.
 
Wherever you may be my Love
this day
know that I still Love you
in my heart and mind.
 
I wish you
Love
Happiness
Joy
Peace
from a far-away shore.

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“What Is This Thing that Cries Out Within Me?” copyright 2005, selection from “Roses Amidst Thorns” http://lulu.com/texaspoet

Posted in Poetry, Selection from "Roses Amidst Thorns" published in 2005, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 24, 2012| Leave a Comment »

 
 

Courtesy of angelinasfall.blogspot.com

What is this thing that cries out within me?
Is it a spirit that hungers for freedom?
“Freedom from what?” my mind asks in cold hard terms.
 
My life seems about things.
Things stack
things store away
a room full of things.
A bank acoount with growing numbers
but it seems
it is all about the balances.
 
I look into the mirror because they say
“Mirrors never lie”
What I see
is not
what I am.
 
I am like unto the spirit of youth
locked in a dark gray cell
listening to the sound of time on the clock
growing more loudly each day.
 
I find myself dancing alone at times.
I love what the sound of music does to my body.
I go back to that mirror
with sweat dripping down my face.
 
I am still puzzled by the face
that stares back at me.
There is a pleading look in my eyes.
They cry out,
“See me, see me
I am not dead!” 
 
A ghost I have become from growing older with time.
I move through my life
seemingly untouched by the sounds of laughter from my past.
 
The smells of loving sweat
the memory of gentle lips touching
the back of my neck.
I feel like my body
no longer remembers the joys of passion.
 
Yesterday I sat in a room noticing many things.
They were little things
but important things
that let the gift of beauty
be shared by one
such as me
hungry for their taste. 
 
The gentle curve to a neck
that seemed to never end.
The movement of material on a full soft breast
as the breath of the beholder
played with the movements.
 
Eyes with a color of the lightest blue
with mystery whirling within their depths
of thoughts yet unspoken or shared with anyone.
 
I heard that voice within me cry out
“See me, see me, I am not death, but alive!
Hear my cry
feel my need
I am alive!”
 
I left the room without a word.
There was a slight smile on my face toward you
as there was a similar smile on yours.
Silent thoughts unshared
upon our departure.
 
Two ships passing on a huge ocean
with a wave of the hand
toward each other
across desolate waves.
When will this voyage end?
What distant shores await each of us?

 

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