Lost Happiness

As moonlight casts its glow around
and shadows dance upon the ground
I walk upon this forlorn trail
of ancient and abandoned fairs
remnants of a wonder lost
when children’s eyes at last are washed
and cleansed from youthful ignorance
as time steals away innocence.
While joy which once so prominent
has fled apace to their lament
and tear-stained cheeks mellow the glow
of love once preciously unknown.

The carousel now creaks and sighs
upon its rusted hinge of life
remembering the former days
when children came and laughed and played.

Dejected from this mournful sight
I seek to turn away my eyes
But glancing in the mirror I
see what was not realized.
This fair once so ebullient
is nothing more than my lament
over the life I’d left behind
when ’twas life’s meaning I denied.

So out again upon the trail
I walk from that so doleful fair
whose mere exuberance at life
now’s withered from its mournful plight.

The clouds have seemed to block the moon
and shadows hold a deeper gloom
the wind has started creeping in
in forms of dark and desperate men,
while shivering I onward press
in search of that lost happiness.


Yet Another… Midnight Musing

It’s an odd state of mind within which I find myself tonight. As I lay supine on my bed reflecting upon the days transpirations while thoughts of life, love, meaning and purpose deftly tug and recede from my consciousness. Thus once again, from this idle mind’s ramblings over mountainous or tranquil expanses of thought, I invite you dear reader to my humble place of thoughtful midnight musings… Wherever this adventure may take us, I hope you enjoy.

~ E.L ~

For a seed of wonder and of doubt all at once has overgrown

And sudden I’m convinced to ponder all I’ve ever known.

What some might label childish or imbecility

Somehow has struck a chord within I find astonishing.

Have somehow mysteries yet spurned regained their conquered ground?

Have I relapsed so far apace that love will bring me down?

Thoughts of this light serve no purpose to embattled souls

As warriors we stand aloof from high and lofty goals.

Give place to innocence and meek, stand fast against the strain

Of evil seeking entrance in to plunder and to maim.

But ever guard that most precious entity of will

And soul and mind entwined in one- emotions there as well

But now at last witness the change as this one form appears

How have you fared so long yet still you cower back in fear?

Words once spoken out in haste and then so thoughtlessly

Now seem insignificant and beg higher degrees

But all intelligence combined of scholars or of sage

Would yet lack evidence enough for my fears to assuage

Enough of midnight ponderings lest words long winded be

Naught but evidence of life that still exists in me.

Goodnight to those who’ve tarried long and suffered through this page

Of thoughtful musings from a mind whose heart’s become engaged

To mysteries unspeakable before a certain day

When I crashed into one who seems at last to know my name


With What Meaning

As any intellectual individual who has have ever pondered the meaning of life will tell you there are times when it all seems meaningless. Even the wisest intellectual to ever live- Solomon the King of Israel (yes that Solomom) spent years of his life attempting to derive meaning from his existence. Finding that it is “Vanity of vanities. All is vanity.” Ecc. (1:2) And a “striving after the wind” Ecc. (1:14) Now I don’t claim to be as wise as Solomon, a ludicrous idea, however upon my own reflective reasoning I find myself in an equally morbid state of mind as that to which I logically attribute to the former scholar. That state of mind being one that causes me to look around at everything I see and wonder… Why? Why bother with it all? I get up, go to work, go to school, go to sleep, and do it all over again. I find trivial amusements to occupy the minutia of freetime that remains to me after cramming every possible second of existence with activities to distract my attention from the eternal mundanity that is life. But in moments such as this where I find myself in a philosophical and contemplative sort of mind I can’t help but question the reasons. If that is all there is to it. If all there is to existence is simply existence what is the point of existing? Why do we frown upon suicide, and denounce hatred and murders? Why don’t we just fold our hands and cry over the horrible position we find ourselves in? Where to live is life for the sake of life and to die is nothing more or less than simply dying? Why should anyone care about anything if there is no meaning to anything anyway

As these thoughts ebb through the recesses of my consciousness I hope my jotting them down will strike a chord in your own mind and get you to ponder as well. I won’t attempt to persuade you of where I fall in this for I believe we are discussing matters if truth. And truth cares not for persuasion but stands upon its own and absolute. It is noteworthy however to observe the fact that I still continue to write this proves that I believe there to be meaning in what I write. But if there is meaning in something as trivial as this blog post then isn’t it safe to say that there is meaning in life? If so what is that meaning?

Think deeply friends for our existence dwells here and eternity hangs in the balance.

If I Leave…

I suppose if ever comes the day
again when we meet face to face
I do not know what I would say
to make it worth your time to stay

Supposing I had strength to play
some song of love to break the chains
of loneliness which still remain
Perhaps then I, your heart, could sway.

But still again supposing I
could spread out wings and upward fly
what good would be those wings of mine
if I forget the heart inside?

Perhaps I won’t recall today-
this thought, this rhyme, this foolish flame.
Perhaps tomorrow I will say
“Goodbye my love- I go away.”

Calculated Fascination

There are times on my blog that I take the liberty of posting what would appear nonsense to some… This is probably one of those times. The following poem was an exercise in ‘wordsmithing” (which exists only controversially as a word,) as I set about to record (as the title states) a “Calculated Fascination” of a certain… something. As I mentioned in my last post sometimes I leave the meaning behind my work a mystery to the reader. So consider this to be intentionally something of a riddle. There IS a logical “object of my fascination” but unless one my readers can suggest it I will not give away the “subject of my declaration”.

With that said if you can follow my highly superfluous verbosity- Please enjoy my poem.

~ Calculated Fascination ~

Thus begins my calculation
Of a certain fascination
And though the interpretation
Of my verbose declaration
May be flawed it’s all that I can do.

The source of my fascination
(Subject of my declaration)
Demands of me to be patient
Almost begging hesitation
For this poem is directed upon you.

Reticence my explanation
Requires no exposition
For this source of fascination
Resides in a higher station
Then I ever hope to be attuned.

Ah! This weary calculation
Spouts nonsensical creations
Of my mind whose permutations
Exposes very foundations
Of these thoughts and dreams you never knew.

These lines beg not participation
(Complex rhymes of declaration)
Seen constant as an apparition
In my mind- a haunting fashion
Daily like a flower always blooms.

Regardless of my fascination
Ironic is my calculation
For in truth our separation
Lives for lack of inspiration
On the part of me who had to choose.

And now those minds studied attention,
(you reading with acute perception)
Hold understandable perplexion
By reason of my declaration
Desist from fearful apprehensions
For she, herself, knows not if it is true.

After the Fall

The Cursed Height

Once again I feel compelled to offer a bit of an introduction to my next poem. Often I relish the opportunity of leaving my work for others to wonder at the meaning behind. Irregardless of its reality. (Whether that be a blessing or a curse I cannot say.) However the post today is one I believe many (if not most) of my readers can relate to. Therefore I have concluded that explaining its meaning may allow a greater general appreciation of it. Included here is a caveat though- If you would like to try and discern the meaning prior to my explanation stop reading this introduction until you have finished the poem and come to your own conclusion. Then return here to either validate, or negate your position. Also if you find that the mindset this work evokes is one far different than what I have put forth in my explanation sound off in the comments so I can see what you’ve discovered!

As you can see above I was not fully convinced in my own mind when titling this work. I feel that After the Fall in a grander fashion sums up the ideology behind its conception, but then The Cursed Height focuses more upon the object of our characters trial. Regardless of this triviality, however, I’m hoping this poem will bring to mind the embodiment of the idea I was trying to capture.
It’s that moment right before success. You are just a few steps shy of your goal when everything falls to pieces, and you find yourself at the bottom looking up again on the same mountainous climb you just traversed. A few seconds to the finish line and you fall… You have to begin all over in what oftentimes seem like a vicious repetitive cycle. Much like our character here who finds himself (again) on the bottom.

Its cold, harsh, discouraging, and demoralizing. To come so close only to be sent back down that same slope with no other option but attempting the climb again.
Nevertheless it is a reality far too many of us encounter on a daily basis. Take heart. Get up and climb! We’ve all been there. We all ARE there.

With that said please enjoy:

~ After the Fall ~

He picks himself up off the ground
then lifts his eyes and looks around.
Once again below the rim
Once again all hope has dimmed.

Then stepping out he moves towards
that treacherous slope, that deadly form
before his knees both buckle down
beneath the weight but not a sound
escapes into the sultry air
no curse erupts- he hardly cares.

For of that fire he once bore
to vanquish foes and win all wars
resides naught but a sputtering flame
a shadow of its former blaze.

Barely finding strength to stand
he looks up reaching out his hand
to shield his eyes and shade his sight
to view the towering, cursed height.

Then a fury in him swells
as he gazes upon the fells
and rushing with a vengeful stride
he clambers and begins to climb!
The devil will not hold him back
he’ll conquer this demon at last!

So furious is his upward flight
that quickly he forgets his plight
of that abyss now far below
and all the horrors he has known.

But alas no sooner than that flame
of hope within begins to blaze
when naught but some odd feet remain
of this cursed beast he yearns to slay
the rocks that hold him up give way
and tumbling down the slope he lays.

And for a moment all is still.
Is there yet a spark of will?
Then slowly rising from the ground
he lifts his eyes and looks around.