My husband's poetry

Category: self transformation

  • The dance

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    When I was young I had no fear. I dove off bridges into the flooded Wabash, turned off head lights and raced away into the night on acid, hitchhiked across America, stood toe to toe with a cop and a billie club and won. I took my beating from a squad of his buddies in…

  • Frontlines

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Some nights, I’m hunkered down in the bottom of a muddy trench facing an enemy I cannot see. My finger on the trigger firing at no one, everyone, anyone just trying to survive. 7-15-25

  • Seven questions

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    When did you stop looking up to find shapes in the clouds? When did you stop imagining heaven peeking through as light showers? When did you stop seeing who could swing highest in the backyard swing? When did you stop talking for hours with friends about your dreams? When did you stop calling in requests…

  • Voices

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    When I was a child my conscience would talk in my father’s voice I didn’t recognize self-hate as my own Now I argue with the voices, take ownership and try to change 4-15-25

  • Gamer suicide

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    When he first experienced a random act of kindness, it made him feel warm and when he thought he understood the concept, he tried it on others and soon it was randomness he sought and soon folks did not see him as kind and soon he became an oddity tolerated in polite company and laughed…

  • You are not born a butterfly

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    You are not born a butterfly …bright and shiney – floating on the wind You were born a worm …crawling in the dirt – devouring, devouring, devouring Before you craved the sky 3-10-25

  • White lace

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Where I sit the arm on our couch is worn It is then I understand why My mother and her mother and her mother… Sat for hours in a corner chair Crocheting frilly, white, lace doilies to protect The fabric of furniture from wear And I wonder about other tedious daily chores She performed to…

  • The end is the beginning, is the middle, is the end

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    My father was always concerned with the now, with what I’m doing with today with not wasting time in pursuit of frivolous things. When my first book of poetry came out, he told me on the phone that he read my book and he didn’t think much of it. At the end he spoke of…

  • Sun day

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    “Because you are alive, everything is possible.” — Thich Nhat Hanh light reflected in a mirror takes nothing from the sun our shadows walk across the ground but cannot diminish our bodies in their journeys our physical perfections and imperfections have no impact on the spirit and so it goes I am responsible for my…

  • Down so low

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    falling uphill towards a grave fill in the cut earth today is about tomorrow turn a gnat into an eagle only the sky will capture your body as you fall 12-7-23 for this I created a new category: self transformation. If there is ever time, I will return to former posts & add this category…