If I could choose one thing to say
it would be, maybe I shouldn't have done it my way
Driven by trauma of my own,
pain was bled where seeds were grown
One would think justice is best
Yet it can lead to another quest
It may not have been up to me
Once told I am not a martyr, you see
It felt righteous and an obligation
But, left me stranded at a train station
Widespread corruption led to more harm done
Instead of saving people, it was a setting sun
It felt wrong to ignore or stay silent
I was always seeking for people to repent
Regardless of how right it seems to be,
my way now, may be to flee
Still conflicted, as processing takes place
Trying to accept what others can't face
I continue to absorb what I see
Hoping wisdom gained, will gently guide me
Heidi Sands
8/10/26
(C)opyright
Burrowing and Borrowing-
Starving but harvesting-
NOT quite charming but alarming-
Harming when storming-
More than a boring warning-
Performing and conforming-
Alluring the enduring-
Touring the reassuring-
Scurrying and worrying-
Working NOT twerking-
Twitching and itching-
Computer glitching when stitching-
Missing NOT dissing-
No hex
No mess
No sex
No stress
Wrestling with a nestled Texas style onion ring...
Castling the mastered haphazardly masked task...
Of a vaccinated infatuation ally rally for a new kitchen sink...
Getting pushed pass the brink by the former owner of a skating rink- because of drinking.
We heard her screaming voice before she came into sight
Get out of my way! She was yelling into the night
Her car was pink, tidy, it had a shine of its own.
The driver was an old lady, a hag, kind of a crone.
Get out of my way! She yelled as the car screeched into the light.
She missed my elbow by about an inch and a half that night.
She was still screaming mean words as they drove out of sight.
An old bat and her car, painted pink Barbie bright.
My Way
I saw the three tenors sing “I did it my way,” mind, the fat one died,
and the two others hate each other and never appear in public if
They can avoid it. Of the two, one looks like an aging matinée idol
The other suffers from being mobbed at school and looks scared
has nightmares and takes to tears before going on stage.
I still like Frank Sinatra`s rendition of that song better; he sang
It was so relaxed with a clear diction, and made me think of a man
With six a pack ambling on his way home, he too is dead to
“My Way” is about human hubris; we believe we are masters of our
destiny when we are leaves blowing along a wet asphalt road
in the autumnal half-light.
Thinking back, I can afford to, I never got a thing my way, which, when
Young caused me bitterness, the highest prize eluded me, kismet knew
I could not handle illustriousness; it would have made me look absurd
a swaggering fool hated by colleagues, at the stage of life. Yet, when
dancing the tango at a nightclub in Buenos Aires, 54 years ago
The applause I received still rings sweetly in my ears.
y Way - - His Way
Memory often takes me back
When I recall childhood days
As a loner, I had little competition
I could do things, - - my way
Teenage years - - somewhat the same
Just more work, but less play
I felt that I was doing fine
I could still do things, - - my way
As a young adult, I began to question
Was there perhaps, a need to pray
Was there something more in life
Than doing things, - - my way
Reading God's Word, revealed to me
My body, was nothing more than clay
His Spirit, helped me realize
Perhaps I should consider, - - His way
As conviction drew me to His side
I knew His Word, was more than a cliche
I knew it was best that I surrender
And let Him have, - - His way
As I reflect back or'e the years
I rejoice that I still can say
The greatest choice I ever made
Was letting Him have, - - His way
Colan L Hiatt = 02-23-20
Walking in the rain
My glasses are foggy
I can’t see the road
I embrace the unknown
Walking in the rain
I take my glasses off
I can’t see the road
The rain blurs my vision
Walking in the rain
Putting my glasses on
Taking my glasses off
I will find a road that shines
I can see the road
Each turn reveals a new view
Where am I going?
Where is my destination?
I trust the unknown
I trust the new turns
Even in the rain
I will find my way!
I come to you with one hand out
Open and up in my need
The other behind my back
Hidden in a fist of rage
Holds a blade, a bat, chain or gun.
I want my way
And if you do not agree
I will throw a fit
And take it however I can.
This is the ploy of a toddler
Grown into full size if not maturity.
I want my way
And will get it no matter what.
What’s that you say, “Go
And earn it, grow it, make it, use it, keep it”?
I have no idea what you mean
You cruel, cruel meany
And I will stay until you give it
One hand out and open
The other clenched and hidden.
(10/31/25)
labyrinth of emotions
punching my way out
scratched up fists
I joyfully beat out my word syllables
as if I am a professional drummer
thumping my way into the Amazon
rain fell with riddles
chalk dust tumbled from my hands
I loved the schoolyard —
learned questions I had not asked—
left un-quenched thirst in my mouth
seashell in my hand
I pressed it hard to my ear
I heard sea strumming —
calling me like it knew me
until tide drew my voyage
clocks ran without me
their teeth grinding daylight down
turning gold to dust —
the clocks ignored me this time
grinding unfazed without me
shadows curled inwards
I traced darkness in my pulse
then folded the chart —
the stars no longer led me
to go gently into night
Going my way?
I’m looking for a perfect world
Sorry, pal. I finished looking yesterday
The road was rough, the path well-worn,
My boots were dusted in what we mourn.
I walked by the field we used to know,
Where dreams were born, but failed to grow.
A window glows behind a hill,
A face I loved, maybe there still.
But time's moved on, and so have we,
After we fought - I lost the key.
Looking up I see -
The stars are shining like strangers.
They display the signs, I should have read.
They sing the songs, I should have sung.
It's too late now! I'm done dusted!
I'm on my way home .... I'm all alone!
I saw the tree where we carved our names.
The bark now hides the scars we blame.
The wind plays our song in rhythm and blues,
Promising so much, with so much to lose.
The gate stood open where I passed through,
The choices I've made, I can’t undo.
If I looked back sooner, I might have stayed.
But my heart shattered when no debts were paid.
Looking up I see -
The stars are shining like strangers.
They display the signs, I should have read.
They sing the songs, I should have sung.
It's too late now! I'm done dusted!
I'm on my way home .... I'm all alone!
Why do I come back time after time, day after day?
Every time I fail, I keep telling myself I will rise above.
At this point, it might be a lie.
Why, oh why, I want to cry out.
So full of doubt.
These words I spout.
Why do I stay day after day?
Why do I stay when things don't go my way?
Sitting here watching the sky
Clouds go floating by
As you get to a certain age
Faster turns the page
Time no longer creeps
It starts playing for keeps
Sun beating down warming the day
Seeing places memories play
Staying out of tomorrow's way
Find me soon enough
Hang tough
Everything I'm looking to see
What I'm looking to be
Paying the price of being me
Haven't lost my way
Still feeling my way through today
Each breath I take
From the moment I awake
I am grateful,
Life is never dull
Smoking a bowl
Writing this rhyme
Enjoying this moment in time
Nowhere I'd rather be
My heart feels free
writing here under this tree
You reached that age, that time in your life
The fork in the road, you must think twice.
What to do, go left and go, go, go
Or got to the right and take it slow
You made your choice, head that way.
Memory kicks in, remember back in the day
Hands on your head you turn around
Listen closely but you hear no sound
Look at the sky, cup your ears
Hoping his voice you soon will hear
Dear Lord you pray, guide my way
Please don’t let me choose wrong today
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