The Traveler

End of a semester and we had to explain what we felt. Here's what came to mind:

The Traveler

A long road

Weary--full of fight,

A traveler looks down it

And sees no end in sight.

His steps are hesitant,

Even a bit scared.

He knows the struggles ahead

Leave him naught prepared.

He travels along, one track mind

One breath,

The road's filled with wonders

The likes of which, he couldn't guess.

The journey seems long

But short just the same,

Seems along the way

His body and mind he's learned to tame.

A sudden light hits him,

It's glow bright and new--

He has a rebirth of sorts

Pure as morning dew.

Discoveries here,

Frustrations abound

And yet, for the first time,

He feels completely aground.

His body is quiet,

His thoughts seemed to have slowen,

An inner peace as deep as this

He's never before known.

Feeling Alive

This poem came out of a creative movement assignment linked to initiation from the internal organs. It lead to some interesting results.

Feeling Alive

A powerful lightness,

A rejuvenating rush,

Power and pulses

Never before touched.

On every breath,

A movement takes wing,

A moment of joyous

Freedom doth sing.

Air rushing in,

Movement surprise,

Never before

Feeling this alive.

An awareness of senses

A breath, a light,

Mind and body

Both full of sight.

Never this present,

Never this real,

Was never forced

This freedom to feel.

A Strange Longing

A Strange Longing

Emptiness surrounds me,

Fills my entire being

And I don’t know why.

A black pit,

Deep within my soul

Threatens to consume me.

I can’t understand this,

This strange longing,

This aching pain.

I’m a success,

I’m not lonely

And yet I yearn.

But what do I yearn for?

What do I need?

What do I desire?

Fame and fortune,

They are words

And have no effect on me.

I exist in a relationship

So I can’t be lonely

I don’t yearn for that.

But there is something deeper

Something that speaks

To my very soul.

But I can’t name it,

Identify it nor can

I label it.

It just exists,

Like a parasite

Refusing to release its host.

It’s burrowed itself

Deeply under my skin

Deeply into my very soul.

It won’t release

I can’t shake it

It remains.

What is this thing?

Why is it here?

What does it want?

In Memory of our Beloved Joe Patenaude

This was written some time ago back on March 10, 2007 after finding out the head of Drew's theatre dept. passed away suddenly and tragically. RIP Joe, you still live forever in our hearts. 

Whirlwind
Shock.
Confusion.
Pain.
Then
Absolute
And utter
Numbness.

Hands shaking,
Mouth too dry
to speak.
Heart pounds
In grief.

Realization hits.
Never hear
Your jokes
In the
Theatre Wing
Again.
Never see
You smile
Or hear
Your laugh.

No longer
Will you
Kid, cajole,
Rib or
Advise us.
No longer
Will our
Department
Thrive under
Your dedicated
And extremely
Loving hand.

You have
Died and
Left this
Cold world.
But do
Not fear.
Although
You are
No longer
Among the
Living, you
Will never
Be forgotten.

Forever, you’ll
Live on
In our hearts
And in
The DOYO.

RIP Joseph Patenaude

Pain

I'm not sure where this one came from. Perhaps it was from being sick for several days that this angsty piece was written. 

Pain.

It blinds me,

Rips my soul,

Tares at my being

Like a clawing tiger.

Agonizing fire

Burns through

My armor

Leaving meNaked

And vulnerable.

Its heat stabs me,

Sinking through

My flesh, searing it.

Howling in agony

That no one hears.

This pain is mine

Alone to bear.