Made Of Stone

Here I knell, head in hands.
Tears running down my burning cheeks.
Fearing the future, Hating the past.
Alone homeless my heart broken.

 
A lifetime we laughed and loved.
A world without hate, we had each other.
Each day we became closer.
Each year we became better lovers.

 
Today there is only silence.
Today my heart is scattered in the wind.
Today my dreams have been lost forever.
Today time has ceased.

 
The cold stone standing in the garden.
The words carved are only a name and dates.
They give nothing to the person who lies here.
The joy that she once brought, the love she gave to others.

 
In one moment she was there smiling.
The next it was gone as if erased from piece of paper.
As if she never existed, if only in a dream.
Yet the pain is real and memory vivid.

 
Here I knell head in hands.
The tears running down my burning cheeks.
Fearing the future, hating the past.
Alone, homeless, broken, and lost.

Cross2

 


 

 

Cross Design: James Earl Wells Copyright 2009

 

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Soulful Day

A soul can be a troubling thing.
It can be sad, and the sky is gray.
It can awake, to a spring rain.

The soul can be a beautiful thing.
It can smile at the laughter of a child.
It can cry at the thought of the past.

The soul is an amazing thing.
It is always growing, yet we do not feel it.
It is always moving yet it never leaves.

The soul is a confusing thing.
It can be happy when it is raining.
And sad when the sun is shining.

The soul is a constant thing.
It is always there ever present in the moment.
It never displays emotion until it is ready.

The soul has many descriptions.
But only the one you have is correct.
And the one they have is correct.

At the end of the day the soul does not rest.
It has to put the days thought and experiences in place.
And when you wake it takes on the face of another day.

The soul can be a troubling thing.
It can be happy or it can be sad.
It is beautiful and full of laughter.

The soul can cry and feel pain.
The soul can feel pain and bounce back again.
The soul is our guide in life if we let it.

The soul is a troubling thing.
The soul is an amazing thing.
The soul is a confusing thing.
Yet the soul is a constant thing.

How else would we see our day?

 

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Graphic Credit: Unknown

 

Long Time Coming

380644_3128249717620_1159584007_nSmall town two boys grew up together.
Both had names almost the same.
Friends with tastes almost exactly alike.

Born less than a month apart.
Living just down the street from each other.
Adventures growing up all through the small town.

Never once thought of the future or what it would hold.
Our world was our bike which were alike.
Creeks that held mystery’s and alleys to explore.

Never strayed from what we liked.
We could drive and music was on our minds.
The radio was not enough so 8 tracks came.

Only two tapes between us did we have.
Iron Butterfly and Moody Blues.
Played as loud as we could.

Turned a car over one night
We made it through all those year.
Graduated and moved on.

He would call me and wish me a happy Birthday.
He would live in the north and I in the south.
Then we would be back in the same town again.

As normal he had a daughter.
Brought her over for us to see.
A few month later we had a daughter.

So what can I say after over fifty years.
Our friendship still holds strong.
One for each other, more like brothers.

Friends for life? Yes, rough, yes,
Would I do anything for him. YES.
Do I think he would do the same for me. YES.

We lived through a lot to make it this far.
And still do the same things.
He lives south, I live north.

We both have the same cell phone.
We both have the same cover for the phone.
Do I love him. YES. He is my Brother.

Always will be.

 

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In both photos: (left) James Irl Ramsey, (right) James Earl Wells
*Note, Both middle names are pronounced the same.

 

Photo Credits:
Top Photo (1967) Gertie Wells
Bottom Photo ( 2011) Barbara Wells

The Sum Of Who I Am

I am a sum of my parts?
So what is that?

I look at my hands and they are wrinkled.
They use to be smooth.
I look at my body and I am fat.
I use to be skinny.
I wear glasses.
I never wore glasses before.

So what sum are my parts?
Are they the total of the age that I am?
Or the time that I am in?

I cannot shake the past.
Nor can I stop tomorrow.
For one will become the other.
And the other will be a part.

The eyes see what is in front of them.
They do not judge nor do they lie.
Yet the truth that they tell can hurt.
And the hurt can last a lifetime.

So what is the sum?
If the sum comes from yesterday.
And yesterday comes from today.
How do we change tomorrow?

If tomorrow changes yesterday.
And today marks the new day.
What becomes of the future if tomorrow is changed?

What is the part that is the sum?
What part of the sum is the total?
What equals the sum of the total?
And when does the sum end?

I am the sum of my parts?
Or am I just the sum?

Melanie (My wonderful Daughter) and Me.

Melanie (My wonderful Daughter) and Me.

A Part of me.

 

Photo by: Barbara J. Wells 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Tear Stained Prose

When the sun comes up in the morning.And I pray that it will be a good day.
I have hope for love in the world.

When I turn on the TV.
All I see is hate and violence.
People dying in the streets.

But it is not in some Country far away from here.
It is right outside my front door.
Children dying, Parents dying, and panic.

This is not the Country I grew up in.
I grew up where you mowed the grass once a week.You went to Church on Sundays.

A place where everyone knew everyone else.A loving community with love on every corner.
A town I am still proud to say is my home town.

I fear that my grandchildren will grow up alone.I fear they will stay inside instead of playing outside.
I fear that it will be a world of war and violence.

I hope an pray that this is not true.I hate feeling blue.
I the feeling that I have to look over my shoulder.

I hope that there will be Peace once more.
I hope that I am wrong.
I hope that you and I can agree.
I hope that we can share.
I hope our faith does not divide us.
I hope our love will bind us.

Mothers and Fathers should not have to bury their children.Children should not have to grow up without Mothers and Fathers.
We should not be afraid to go out and have fun.

Someday that will be true.
Someday we will sing together.
Someday we will laugh and cry together.
Someday we will if Someday ever comes.

To  the city of Boston
To those families who lost loved ones
To those who are injured.
To those who will relive that day over and over.

I pray for you.
I pray that someday will come.
And this all will be only a time in History.
That we have gone beyond today.

Hear is a tear to stain this page.
I looked in that little boys eyes.
I looked into my Grandson’s eyes.
And I cried because I was glad it was not him.
And I cried for that little boy who will never grow up.

May your life be full of Joy and Peace.
From this day on.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This is neither poetry or prose. These are words of a longtime resident of this world who has seen terrible things in his life. Who cry’s when he sees injustice and killing. I love my Country. But this is not the one I grew up in and I am afraid that all those growing up now will never see the days from the past that I seen.

Clouds, Rain, Tears And Other Things.

When the clouds fill the sky.

The rain begins to fall.

I sit at the window.

And a tear begins to fall.

I do not know why.

But the feeling is so sad.

Where does that come from?

I do not remember why I hurt.

It fills my mind and my heart.

Heavy feelings of loss and sorrow.

Built up throughout the years.

Filling me up in pain.

The clouds fill the sky.

And rain begins to fall.

The tears begin to form.

And yet I know not why.

Is it love that I lost?

Or time disturbing thoughts of long ago.

I know that when the clouds fill the sky.

And the rain begins to fall.

Sadness fills my soul.

Tears begin to flow.

Soon sleep takes me away.

It stops the pain.

Yet, when I wake it is there again.

So the window becomes a look back.

Or is it a look forward that I seek?

Yes, I admit I have been wrong.

I admit I have been arrogant.

I admit that I was childish.

And maybe that is what starts the pain.

But when the clouds begin to fill the sky.

And the rain begins to fall.

The tears begin to flow.

Slowly I slip into a dream.

Where everything is sunny and great.

But sooner or later.

It starts again.

The Clouds

The Rain.

The Tears.

The Truth.

Sadness.

Fear.

 

Until Someday

Someday I will grow up.

Someday I will be a man.

Someday I will fight evil.

Someday right will defeat wrong.

Someday there will be Peace in the world.

Someday prayers will be answered.

Someday life will be through.

Someday we will find truth.

Someday we will know the answer.

Someday the light will overcome darkness.

Someday children will not be afraid.

Someday children will not starve.

Someday everyone gets a chance.

Someday the dream will come true

Until someday we must try.

Until someday we must change.

Until someday we must fight.

Until someday we will see the light.

Until someday we will fear no more.

Until someday our questions will be answered.

Until Someday,

If Someday ever comes.