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Patrick Stafford Poem
In answer to all the darkness in every soul
I offer this to the mighty pitiful world
Whose most sagacious few lie blinded by the light
Or some similar god they know does not exist!
Herein now, some thoughts on shimmering hopes ere long
We return to the same strife-filled life we were last!
For the true dreams that life answers seldom outlast
Beyond the duration of any faithless soul
Who had ever struggled on faithfully for long
To accept or change the mighty pitiful world!
For these few are we who ever sought to exist
Under the false rays of some benevolent light.
And though sometimes there are moments of pure sunlight
That promise to never fade and forever last,
(Or promise to become real and really exist!)
Soon enough the bright faith in every faithful soul
Learns to rejoin the faithless, atheistic world
And thank the darkness for not holding back too long!
For faith is weak and bleak, and grief is strong and long,
And each rives and thrives to see darkness smother light!
Still, we seek to find some form of joy in the world
Till we’ve suffered enough and learned again at last
If there is a god who saves any life or soul,
It’s a god who only on Sundays would exist!
Yet, at least, faith and doubt peacefully coexist
(But keep to the realms of belief where they belong!)
Still, if there is anything like a living soul
Who even finds a single ray of faithful light,
He must have found the first of it and not the last,
Let alone some god who long ago fled this world!
So the hell with faith and the whole damned underworld!
Where generations of us still fail to exist!
Some great one of us may hold out until the last
And never ask why the ruse has gone on so long.
To bathe ourselves from time to time in hopeful light;
However false, hides the darkness in every soul.
Just walk the wordless world and watch it roll along.
Let existence exist, but wait for deathless light!
Till death comes at last; and pray that you have a soul.
Copyright © Patrick Stafford | Year Posted 2005
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Patrick Stafford Poem
There were these dreams we dreamt and so many stars wished upon.
In the time our lives were happy and life meant everything.
When you, my sweet love, woke beside me each and every dawn!
Ah, when all was right with the world and the grass smelled like spring.
For there was this life we lived we thought would always live on.
Still we knew what death was--and how it could touch everything.
But my own never thought yours could die...until it was gone!
And until nothing was left...but the grass that smelled like spring.
Now the stars are wistless orbs...but I must continue on.
Through the haze of pointless days that has buried everything.
For there is this place I must visit...each and every dawn!
Where you sleep, my sweet love, and the grass always smells like spring.
Copyright © Patrick Stafford | Year Posted 2006
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Patrick Stafford Poem
I can still feel the sea and the first time my eyes met you,
And when they were first charmed and caressed by your loveliness.
It was when we were young and the sea enjoined us as two.
And all we ever had...were arms to hold and lips to kiss!
Then sometime later I captured you, and you became mine.
And your restless arms and sweet lips were all I ever knew!
And though darkness often came and the sun would seldom shine,
Even when the sea waned...I knew I would always love you.
For seldom did I tell you and few were the times you heard
All the meaning you gave my life--all the joy you still give!--
There, in your eyes, my love, and in every unspoken word,
Even when there were unkind words no lover should forgive!
Ah, that the sea created me for you, and you for me,
And enjoined a perfection no poet’s words ever said,
Proves I love you more than the passionate waves love the sea!
And always will, my love, though the sea has left you for dead.
Copyright © Patrick Stafford | Year Posted 2006
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