August | 2021 | apersonaljourney

Monthly Archives: August 2021
- Times Like These …
  
  Posted at 12:56 am by a quiet man, on August 30, 2021
  I would sacrifice the heroics for a spot of tea
  
  that might be the solution to understanding we
  
  cannot control the world around us,
  
  throw me clearly under the bus.
  
  I forgot there would be a time understood,
  
  that passion, that whirlwind nature could
  
  suddenly be fraught in the eye of the storm
  
  when only ordinary seemed far from the norm.
  
  It was then I should have known we were cursed
  
  that spoken word, when wept eyes immersed
  
  in the agony of love, the trials far above,
  
  my world your world ours fit like a glove
  
  And yet we were wrong, you said the word,
  
  I fell back crying because it seemed absurd
  
  two people in love are suddenly torn apart
  
  Society is where hate is a sublime form of art.
  
  © Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 8 Comments | Tagged art, love, poetry, rules, society, writer, z
- In The Manner of Love
  
  Posted at 7:40 am by a quiet man, on August 29, 2021
  There is truth along with illusion
  
  what seems unreal feeds our delusion
  
  lost hope becomes a trigger
  
  for satisfaction
  
  taking action
  
  want to maintain this feeling
  
  live in a euphoria reeling.
  
  What is it love does
  
  timing is a buzz
  
  he turned to her tried to match eyes
  
  I’d rather swoon for you then be wise
  
  There it is then this love
  
  something real about a glove.
  
  ©️Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged illusion, love, poetry, reality, writer, z
- Coffee Moment
  
  Posted at 12:06 pm by a quiet man, on August 27, 2021
  ©️Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in haiku, poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged George Segal, haiku, poetry, Walker Art Center, writer
- When We Mattered
  
  Posted at 12:53 am by a quiet man, on August 26, 2021
  Do you remember when everyone else
  
  didn’t matter, didn’t exist, didn’t come into play,
  
  on our state of mind,
  
  in fact
  
  they left us alone altogether
  
  because we certainly didn’t notice them.
  
  We were too busy
  
  trying to understand ourselves,
  
  yet we forgot
  
  to remind each other,
  
  we did matter,
  
  we really did
  
  matter.
  
  ©️ Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged emotion, Human, love, poetry, writer, z
- We Were Together
  
  Posted at 11:51 pm by a quiet man, on August 21, 2021
  Last night I wrote her a letter
  
  I figured upon some single word
  
  to hopefully make everything better
  
  still living in a mindset of the absurd.
  
  ~
  
  Today I stroke the hour of midnight with a searching
  
  eye for calm, listening … breeze, bright sky, yearning
  
  ~
  
  Seems time doesn’t real heal a bleeding heart
  
  unless there might be some universe well apart
  
  I remember back to the days of romantic air
  
  when the two of us well fell inside a lover’s lair
  
  ~
  
  we didn’t seem to forecast any blues ahead
  
  only knew we’d proven passion is not dead
  
  Seems time doesn’t really heal a bleeding heart
  
  unless there might be some universe well apart
  
  ~
  
  Today I stroke the hour of midnight with a searching
  
  eye for calm, listening … breeze, bright sky, yearning
  
  ~
  
  Each time I travel around a corner that seems is new
  
  still they desire, that driving compassion remains strong
  
  I’m wanting only her and nothing more, if she only knew
  
  her beauty is, such elegance does, each moment I long.
  
  ~
  
  Did he mention the full moon, wherever we were, still lands.
  
  © Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged full moon, humanity, love, people, poem, poetry, wordpress, writer, z
- He Stood On The Horizon
  
  Posted at 10:13 pm by a quiet man, on August 19, 2021
  He didn’t wish to take his eyes away,
  
  she could glow, that amber in a setting sun.
  
  She might smile, find his life in sway.
  
  Though her temptation, now a desire to run
  
  ~
  
  In memory he knew she had spoken of such
  
  a world beyond ourselves, in silence.
  
  No longer holding definition, a descent, much
  
  like the loss of one we love, we chance.
  
  ~
  
  In a sweet silence he would listen to her echo
  
  In sweet silence her words heartfelt in soul
  
  In a sweet silence he would listen to her echo.
  
  ~
  
  We find ourselves in fascination, an evening rise
  
  the stars forever and beyond would be his guide
  
  There’s a world awaits with every common sunrise
  
  We are the observation of this, of a miraculous ride
  
  ~
  
  He would stand alone, listening heartfelt for her words
  
  such a common occurrence is love along the shoreline.
  
  © Scott F Savage. 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged amber, horizon, love, poetry, sunrise, sunset, writer, z
- These Tears We Know
  
  Posted at 9:52 pm by a quiet man, on August 16, 2021
  When they do come, he could never predict
  
  a shower of emotion, while only sitting still.
  
  Somewhere out in our mystique lays an edict
  
  upon that harmony does play a heart at will.
  
  ~
  
  Would he if could find a reasonable cause
  
  losing a dry eye in the name of sensitivity
  
  she held his heart, her soul in him hers was
  
  ~
  
  There in the silence of night would we forget
  
  There in the silence of night would we forget
  
  Lovers forgotten in the midst of a fearful gasp
  
  ~
  
  We wanted so badly somehow to figure out why
  
  Maybe he did, maybe she … well certainly he
  
  could feel the beauty this chemistry have a cry
  
  for when the good bye came he managed to be.
  
  ~
  
  There in the silence of night would we forget
  
  There in the silence of night would we forget
  
  Lovers forgotten in the midst of a fearful gasp
  
  ~
  
  He struggles to understand a shower is beauty
  
  the Grace of God bless our lives in celebration
  
  A violin concerto in the background has plenty
  
  of memory brought into our lives this absolution
  
  ~
  
  Lovers forgotten in the midst of a fearful gasp
  
  Then in the silence of night could we forget.
  
  © Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, writing | 2 Comments | Tagged love, memory, poetry, song-writing, tears, time, writer
- On A Rainy Afternoon
  
  Posted at 5:07 pm by a quiet man, on August 8, 2021
  On a rainy afternoon, I shed a couple of tears
  
  in tune
  
  trying to figure out why it is
  
  everyday I find a moment to swoon,
  
  not the happy kind of loon
  
  we felt when all we could do …
  
  well before the ruins.
  
  ~
  
  The asphalt pavement had puddles we used to step in
  
  together rounding the corner after dinner.
  
  ~
  
  Remember when we walked alone,
  
  you looked in my eyes and asked if I felt it too,
  
  and when I agreed you disappeared.
  
  ~
  
  On a rainy afternoon, I felt the pain of tomorrow,
  
  nothing changing all the morrow
  
  of a well spent day having nothing left to gain,
  
  except some element of sorrow
  
  we are told to leave alone, to pull up our ego,
  
  and somewhere find it thrown
  
  to the wolves
  
  to the cavalcade
  
  to the anxious horizon
  
  where all our dreams are
  
  sold.
  
  © Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged depression, poetry, rain, rainy day, soul, writer
- Seeing You Tonight
  
  Posted at 12:26 am by a quiet man, on August 8, 2021
  I saw you tonight, the way you observe,
  
  your jawline where my fingertips would run,
  
  hair falling in between,
  
  lips waiting to kiss me.
  
  I watched as you became present in the moment,
  
  the band played on, body swaying to the motion,
  
  I saw you tonight,
  
  for a minute I might
  
  have imagined just you and me in a dance
  
  when nothing else could offer chance
  
  then hold you again,
  
  feeling what was then.
  
  I saw you tonight, and when they played,
  
  ‘fool on the hill’ I cried, wept afraid
  
  I might never know this moment again
  
  I might always yearn wondering when.
  
  © Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged doppelganger, love, muse, music, poetry, tonight, writer
- A Quiet Moon
  
  Posted at 3:20 am by a quiet man, on August 6, 2021
  We stood inside this harmony
  
  listening to a quiet Moon,
  
  our hearts together some melody
  
  we would only lose too soon.
  
  ~
  
  One kind of love she would say,
  
  meant to live only in fantasy.
  
  One kind of life she would say,
  
  meant without any scrutiny.
  
  ~
  
  He would call out definition.
  
  She would criticize it cryptic
  
  his loss would be no solution
  
  to a quiet moon for a skeptic.
  
  ~
  
  Whenever I might again return
  
  sort of memory driven and familiar
  
  I’d always hope for and yearn
  
  some reminder we’ve been together.
  
  ~
  
  chorus
  
  ~
  
  Under the moon, an autumn summer
  
  Is where I belong in some forever
  
  Under the moon, an autumn moon
  
  ©️ Scott F Savage 8/2021
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  Posted in poetry, the 'be' series, writing | 0 Comments | Tagged autumn, moon, quiet, solace
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