New Batch of poetry

Just finished up another batch of poems.

i was filling in holes in my 1001-1500 file.

the first two are a couple you might like, the third is a goofy one and the fourth is something that i typed last year.



i can take from you

all of the things that you say
all of the ways you pay
i can take from you
if you will let me

if you will let me
i will take you away from
all of the pain
all of the rain
that washes away
your roots
that bind you here

if you let me
i will take you farther
so much farther than you knew
than you thought was
able to be traveled

if you let me
i can take from you
your pain
your sorrow
your voice of hate
your reasons for shame

Copyright 2012 by pauly hart



salute to the men of yor

what striving what muscle
what men of vigor these 
with every muscle give
worlds of help to family
with every fiber love
lesser children spawned

with hope with laughter
with drunken songs singing
with all heart and life
helping your brothers
with every truth becoming
lifting one another

these men strong
these men of yor
i salute to you
who i've known before

strength and courage
knowledge and hope
an arm in the fight
a light in the smoke

you men in my life
when i often weep
were fortresses strong
when i was but weak

Copyright 2012 by pauly hart




One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.

In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.

This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,

“You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”

"Because," said the Lord, "Sandpeople always ride single-file to hide their numbers."

Copyright 2012 by pauly hart



saturday, february 5th, 2011

prelude to another way of thinking

i received a letter the other day from my former wife asking if i could do her a favor and recount the events that led up to our nearly fatal wreck when we were married in the summer of 1996. i was sure that i could remember, i recall writing, and set about writing the following work. the thing to know here is that during the set of events, she was under an altered mental status that now, even during the most intense of meditation practices, cannot be recalled. this brief amnesia has left me the only survivor of this account with any detail of the events. in order to come to peace with events in her past, michele has asked me to recount these events. so, i will try to practice my utmost to give an unbiased account of an event that transpired almost fifteen years ago.

the following, to the best of my ability, is a true story.

the day had come about like any other. morning, noon, afternoon, in that order. michele and i had just moved out of a temporary lodging that our friend pete had let us stay at. it was a converted lodging that was formally an older house and now resided in one of that towns worst areas. down the street and across, there was an outlaw biker gang, on the next block, there was a tire dump, and after the house to our right, there was a run down parking lot that many a drug deal transpired at.

later, but unknown to me then, a man named bill, whose mother was in the outlaw biker gang and who used to do several of the drug dealings next door would become my best friend, give his life to Jesus, move in with me, turn his back on me, commit suicide, and blame it all on me. but this is not that story.

michele and i had moved into a house five blocks away. not really a change in overall scenery, but in the ghettos of our city, a small change, nonetheless. we were content with our new home, not in the best way of happiness, but contentment was enough.  the renovated house we had just moved out of was a proposed womens shelter, but we had taken residence there while they were in the midst of renovation. it was a nice gesture on behalf of the lutheran church, who owned the house we had just left, but being on our own was more to our liking anyhow.

so it was just another day.

and i was on my way to pick michele up from work at the local christian retail outlet. it had always been funny to me that michele worked there being one of the most non-religious, yet deeply spiritual people that i had ever known. yet there she worked and labored and brought home a pay-check while i was struggling on at a smaller church as their youth pastor making very little. i only got paid for twenty hours yet worked the full forty anyway. and, being as we only had that 1984 datsun two door, it was fair to say that i drove her to and from work everyday.

so. average afternoon. average sky. average mid-fall month. average light. two non average people enjoying their new life together in their new jobs. she got in the car i started it up, we turned left. i had my seat-belt on, she did not. she was facing me, cocked in the seat, talking about her friends tina and garrett that worked at the store and things were perfect. we were going 36 in a 35 and we had taken the same route home that we took everyday. things were average. things were safe. nothing was out of the ordinary.

passing a white work van on the left we WHAAAAAM we are spinning suddenly and i am in pain and i am trying to find the brake but i am braking anyway and now i am still spinning inside my mind and there is blood on the windshield and michele is on the floor and in my lap and i have blood on my hands?

there were five thousand years that passed through my mind at this time. i floated to the sky with the sounds of the ocean in my ears and came back within seconds.

i was all action.

i remember thinking in sentence fragments only. undo seat-belt- move left leg- move michele-pull michele out of car- the car might catch on fire- why are we facing the wrong way- check michele for vitals- there is blood everywhere- look in her eyes- ask if she's alright- why is this guy trying to grab me- why are those people screaming- get this guy off me- there's blood in her hair- there is blood on my hands- michele are you alright- this guy is really going- i am going to hit this guy- jump up to hit this guy-


he screams at me and the sound of rushing water again.

i fall to the ground and just then realize that i too am in extreme pain. my senses had not been telling me of what was going on in the body that i inhabited.

there are people everywhere and i start crying. my wife that i loved, the whole reason that i had moved here, the one i had waited twenty four years to give my purity to, my whole being to, my life, to... had now seemingly died. she was not moving. there was nothing there. and even as she groaned and told others that she was alright, somehow i still believed her to be dead. they wouldn't let me close enough. i was going to seriously fight this guy that wouldn't let me near my wife. oh. he was a paramedic.

and for a brief lucid moment, one quick glance around, all was explained to me by my eyes.

as we had been planning to pass the white work van on the left going nearly the speed limit, we had been hit at almost a ninety degree angle from the right on the passenger side, by another smaller sedan who had ran the stop sign and had been planning to pop into the street right behind the van. the only thing stopping her plan had been our car. when her car hit our car, it sent us into a spin that had brought about a 540 degree turn and landed us facing the opposite way in traffic, in the turn lane in the middle of the street. the two lanes of traffic going our way had been stopped due to the womans car blocking their way. the two lanes of traffic that had been going the opposite way had stopped also due to the havoc and shock of seeing our car spinning seemingly into them. there was an ambulance and a fire-truck on the scene and michele was being attended by around three people. one woman had an auburn sweater on and had been calmly speaking to michele making sure she was not going into shock.

the lucid moment was continuing...

the man who i had wanted to fight so furiously was calmly speaking to me, making reassuring touches on the arm. he was not a paramedic after all, rather a big man with a white t-shirt and a red baseball cap on. this might have led to the former conclusion that he was. i looked him in the eye and said: "lay off dude." probably because this was such a normal thing for me to say, he took it that i was in my right states. and for the most part i was. 

it had seemed like two seconds since the crash and turn of events but in reality it had taken around twenty minutes for the ambulance to arrive and we were then both whisked away in it.

michele was on a stretcher. she was not dead and we were looking at each other.

i love you. i meant it. i said it. she told me that she already knew that. i thought that was an odd thing to say.

and then i remember crying at the joy that all the blood had come from a tiny cut in the middle of her head and that she had not had a massive injury, only a bump. only only only. the way that she had been sitting, sideways, had led her to be propelled into the windshield when we had collided, and when we had spun, had thrown her into my lap, messing up her hair and causing the blood to look like more than what it was.

funny really in retrospect. it wasn't that bad of an accident. while it did total our car, and i did end up reliving a couple of life-altering experiences, it wasn't that bad. the worst thing about the wreck was the fact that i relived another woman dying. you see, my mother had passed away almost a year and a half before and that was around the time that i had met michele. i didn't know if i could go through another person dying on me and i am grateful that she did not.

at the hospital her mother and step-father were there. i had a minor injury from the steering wheel hitting my chest, and michele claimed not to have remembered anything up to leaving work. i laughed, and thought that she eventually would...

maybe this story will help.

Copyright 2012 by pauly hart