Last Updated: 01/06/00.
All poetry on this page is original and written by Jeffry J. Brickley current chat alias SamuraiCat.
A youthful heart, ahhh, to be young again...
To find a lady, a beautiful miss
And place on her lonely brow love's first kiss.
Joyful curiosity beyond ken
Safe in my ignorance, time and again.
Looking to the future with childish bliss,
Looking without knowing something's amiss.
Those youthful eyes, ahhh, to be young again.
And yet, my soul I would have to deny
To keep youth's innocently darkened veil,
To think that life never has a good-bye,
To sing of the future and never cry.
I would rather try knowing I may fail,
Finding comfort in the wisdom of "why."
Donald's here with Micky Mouse
Outside a marshmellow house.
Odie finally paid garfield back,
Chasing him into a thunder crack.
Godzilla's fighting a giant mantis
While a ninja turtle shakes his fist.
There is King Kong and Joe Young,
Both sticking out a mighty tongue.
There are coke cans and root beer floats
Amid sailing ships and speeding boats.
Out reaches the Lord's great hand,
To wind instruments without a band.
There's Winnie the Poo and Piglet too!
With more animals than the Denver Zoo!
If you only watch the clouds float by,
There is always an adventure in the sky.
Trust is a sword you hold by the blade.
You offer it to another and hope....
You will always feel each movement,
Whenever that trust is betrayed.
A pessimist draws the sword
Across his own palm to build scars
An optimist holds the blade tighter
And each movement will cut deeper.
The lover clasps his sword to his heart,
The reward, greater, but the pain may be fatal.
The fatalist presses the blade into the wound
In hope that the next will be the last.
In apathy, we toss the sword in the air
Where it may or may not return.
Some may even choose to sheath the sword.
Yet, without trust, what is life but living death?
I have offered my trust in every way,
Yet until I have healed the wounds of the past
Or my last drop of life polishes the sword,
With a sword glistening from fresh wounds,
I shall hold it out again and hope I live.
Zen Garden
The Sands of time awash
With the rocks of eternity,
Waves of patterns combined.
Thoughts given physical light,
As ever changing as life.
Order from Chaos.
Logic from Emotion.
Patterns from Thought.
Helping the maker find focus,
Helping the viewer find peace,
Here is the beauty of stone.
A song has greeted my mornings,
Growing with each passing year.
I hope that the song had a little of me
As I cared for you each week.
Perhaps I didn't care enough
Or your song would still be sung.
I hope that you have forgiven me
If this was indeed the truth.
For the silence of your song
Is a weight I shall always bare.
Words,
Like blades fall.
Stabbing at the soul.
Tearing unseen flesh.
Words,
Edged with malice,
Deliberately spoken,
The weapon of the civilized.
Words,
Chosen for effect,
No weapon is deadlier,
For it destroys from within.
Each card played
One at a time.
Chance has a part
And skill as well.
Each time we play
We play to win
But only one fact
Is always the same
We still play
The game alone.
Wouldn't it be worse if life was fair
And all the burdens that we bare,
Were earned by the lives we lead,
By our every thought and deed.
There is small comfort in the thought
That fair the universe is not.
Life did not punish you for a vice
It was only a roll of the dice.
Luck is fickle, I know this to be true.
It is a fact, no reason to feel blue.
As you read this , I ask you one thing
Though difficult, let your heart sing.
Do not treat others the same way
That life treats you each day.
We all take our chances, so rise above,
And treat your fellow man with love.
I have always admired the Bonsai.
Though not large, it has strength
The strength of years of will.
The bonsai grows on the cliff,
It's roots anchored in the stone.
Strong winds have twisted it.
And yet, small and windswept,
It has a beauty of the soul.
It has seen decades of torment,
And never has it given up.
A stubborn soul, it clings to life,
And it will live for generations more.
Do you know what it is like to thirst?
Not want or desire, everybody wants. . .
A thirst comes from inside,
Telling you that it is necessary
For your very survival.
A thirst tears at your sanity.
A thirst tears at your soul,
The very fabric of your being.
Only the strongest of men
Can survive a true thirst
Without finding a way to quench it.
Do you know what it is like to be Lonely?
Not the loneliness of one,
It is easy to be lonely when you are one.
True loneliness is the lonliness of many,
The loneliness that strikes you in a crowd.
True loneliness that invades your sleep.
True loneliness that catches you at a party
To tell you that you do not belong.
True loneliness is an ache in your soul.
True loneliness is NOT a desire. . .
True loneliness is . . . a thirst.
In Texas oil has been named "liquid gold."
Here, only water takes a name so bold.
Come here, you enter the chain of life,
For survival here is based on strife.
Be careful where you step, or you'll see
How harsh the life is in this reality.
Here, death looks out with a scaley face,
For the rattlesnake rules this baren place.
The beautiful shrike tortures a meal here,
With all the skills of historical Vladamere.
And a graceful black vulture rules the air,
For much of the life here kills with a flair.
Spaniards crossed with a grandoise plan,
Aptly renamed, "Journey of the Dead Man."
At the party they laughed at me . . .
Up the Mountain, then they'll see!
Faster, faster! Sharp turns ahead!
Off the cliff, I'd soon be dead.
WAIT!!
STOP!!
Tires screech!!
"I'm glad you came, we need a ride . . .
"My wife's with child, can we get inside?
"Our car broke down a mile ahead.
"I'm glad you came!" that's what they said.
Driving back . . .
Silence . . .
There, a ranger I never passed.
They all smile, "Will you be okay?"
"Yes." I answered. I'll live another day.
I still remember, dangerous roads I braved.
They thanked me, yet my life they saved.
When I had left, I looked back you see . . .
No couple, no ranger, my mirror was empty . . .
Wings of Change
Under the leaves,
I crawled.
Under the eaves
I slept.
On wings of change,
I am magic!
A new generation
to be born....
I sit here reading your soul;
Two kindrid spirits, lost and alone.
The specifics are different,
But the pain, much the same.
The words I read from you
Could have been from me.
Had I the words that you've found
Would I match you page for page?
So lost were we, are you still?
I hope and pray that you are not.
I want to share what I am as you have,
To read my soul and not run away.
In Memory of Evene
Ahh my Evene,
I loved you more than you could know.
I thought I could make you love me....
I built a pedestal for you,
but you could not see it.
I poured my love into it and made it larger,
but in all my love, I made it too great...
For one day it's shadow fell upon me and I was forgotten....
You were left to your dreams and I to my shadows....
Shadow Jack (aka Jeffry J. Brickley -- an old chat alias)
A Child Cries (original)
A child cries.
He is alone.
Darkness comes.
He reaches out,
But no one sees.
He calls out,
But no one hears.
The darkness laughs,
A child cries.
A Child Cries (reprise, 6 years later)
A child cries -
he reaches out,
and is not alone.
The darkness fades,
dawn comes,
happiness is found.
Then the sun sets,
never to rise.
He is alone again,
the darkness laughs,
but the man cannot cry.