Carousel of Dreams by Rick Stephen

brasssangDreams die hard and they should. Our dreams are things that should be worked at, strived for and not given up on easily. Sometimes though, they just aren’t going to happen and it takes a certain level of awareness and maturity to recognize when that point has been reached. It’s not easy to give up on a dream, to rearrange your priorities and decide to pursue something else. Sometimes our dreams seem to take on a life of their own. Though we may know a dream is out of reach sometimes hope just won’t die. This poem, Carousel of Dreams, is about just that. I hope you enjoy it!

Carousel of Dreams

desires, wishes,
wants and needs
a life full
of sterile seeds

dreams implanted
that shanll never be
fruit that the sun
will never see

yet hope strives
for those dreams
but never grasps
the brass ring

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Empty Still by Rick Stephen

here at work
wasting time
hours after quitting
because I’ve no reason
or desire to go home
where no one waits for me
the only sounds
my footsteps echoing
off darkened walls
breaking the sterile silence

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Micropoetry – 29 May 2012 by Rick Stephen

dandelionwishessometimes I must simply see
what I wish won’t often be
and if I love, one true sign
is if her wish becomes mine



An Invading Darkness by Rick Stephen

tendrils2An Invading Darkness

a darkness has invaded me
long, slithering, alien tendrils
snaking slowly, incessantly
stealing throughout my flesh
wrapping themselves around
bone and organ and brain
rooting into my being
changing my nature
but they do not belong

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A Clouded Mind by Rick Stephen

Am Ominous Sky

Am Ominous Sky

Depression isn’t a popular topic of conversation and those who suffer from it certainly don’t like to talk about it. Beyond the crushing sadness and the myriad of other symptoms it causes, admitting to it can make you feel weak, a failure. No one wants to admit they’re having difficulty coping and that they need help. Yet it is exactly what they need to do first.

Depression isn’t like the cute cartoon character with a cloud over his head following him around. For me, it felt more like this …

A Clouded Mind

An endless, heavy, pounding rain
beats upon my weary brain
a flooding sense of my sorrow
drowning hopes for the morrow

This bleak shroud hung over me
extends as far as eye can see
a dim and dour, sullen gloom
darker than a dead man’s tomb

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The Day Jobs of Poets


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Vacuum by Rick Stephen

a space not filled
an emptiness
a void
shaped like you



The Sounds of Yore by Rick Stephen

rotary-phoneResearch suggests that smells and sounds are most effective in evoking our memories. It seems to be the case as far as I am concerned. Smells certainly seem to bring forth the most vivid memories but sounds aren’t far behind. Earlier this week, I heard the sound of an old rotary phone ringing. I have no idea how many years it had been since I’d heard that once pervasive sound but it got me thinking.

So many of the common, everyday sounds with which I grew up have vanished or are rarely heard today. This reality prompted my latest poem, The Sounds of Yore. I hope you take a moment to enjoy it. If you’re near my age or older, it’ll be a trip down memory lane. The very young may not be able to relate but in 20 or 30 years they will, believe me!

The Sounds of Yore

There are fond sounds which I no longer hear
sounds from my youth which have grown so dear

sounds that were simply part of life’s soundtrack
but are now memories that I’d like to have back

so bear with me a moment as I reminisce
and recall a few sounds that I so miss

like the gurgle of coffee as it’s percolated
the sound of the brew for which Dad waited

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Poetry Offers Outlet to Cancer Patients

iv_drip_2I stumbled across this fascinating article about using poetry as therapy for cancer patients on the Dallas Morning News website and thought to pass it on to you. Thankfully, I’ve never had cancer. Knock on wood as I rap my knuckles against my head! However, I have had several family members who’ve suffered and succumbed to this terrible disease. I vividly recall the conflicting and confusing emotions this disease caused them and their loved ones. Emotions that often found no healthy and therapeutic way of expression. The article discusses not only the psychological benefits of poem therapy but also that there may be benefits for pain management!

I began writing poetry almost 2 years ago as my own form of therapy. Not because I suffered from some horrible disease but simply because I suffered from life. Life, while a wondrous and precious thing, can also treat us terribly at times. During a particularly difficult time in my life I found an unexpected emotional outlet in the form of poetry. First in the reading and then writing it myself. It helped me cope immensely.

It seems to me that writing poetry would be a natural form of therapy for those suffering not only from cancer but any other life-threatening, life-changing or chronic disease. It could provide a healthy outlet for the myriad of fears and confusing emotions as people face their own mortality and the fragility of life. The article, written by Tara Parker-Pope of The New York Times, makes for an interesting read. Have a look! You or someone you know may benefit from it.


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