Poetry

The me I Used to Be

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

I confidently faced each day
With resolve and purposeful intent.
This happened without effort
And no need to invent
Or reinvent myself or my plan
to continue by ascent.
As the years sped by
I lost purpose and resolve.
I’m not sure exactly when
Or what had to dissolve,
But the luster went away
And things started to devolve.
I now find solace in nearly
Nothing with precious little joy.
The days and nights are jumbled
And people do little but annoy
Me as I push through each moment,
Hoping my calm I don’t destroy.

© 2017 Bobbi Curtis


When the Stars Go Out

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis
WRITING THE SONGS THAT NO ONE WILL SING,
THE STORIES THAT NO ONE WILL READ.
HUGS AND KISSES MADE IRRETRIEVABLE BY THE DUST OF TIME.
TEARS CRIED AND SADNESS AND LOSS UNACKNOWLEDGED.
IS THIS WHAT THE END LOOKS LIKE?
© 2016 Bobbi Curtis 

The Whole

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis
I took a long, long walk.
I let the road guide me,
But then I wondered how it would feel to wander free.
I took a long, long walk.
I felt the breeze, the rain, the snow,
But then I wondered how it would feel to grow.
I took a long, long walk.
I let things happen instead of running the show,
But then I wondered what would happen if I let another take control.
I took a long, long walk.
I became tired and lay down to rest for just a bit,
But then I wondered what would happen if I made it all fit.
I took a long, long walk.
I realized that fulfillment came from doing it all.
I no longer wondered. I saw the whole.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 


Dark You

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

You know me not.

You see me as you expect me to be,

As you theorize a me,

Not as I am.

You base your assumptions on the memories of a child,

Memories with little fact rolled in,

Misperceptions strung together with bubble gum,

Recall tainted with your own lies.

The child “you” lived in my house

Over two decades long past.

During those years of pain and growth

Much has changed – for me.

I rid myself of things that didn’t serve me well.

I threw off old trappings for improved methods.

I made conscious effort to be more than I was.

I changed.

You are still, however, about twelve years old,

Acting out, lashing out, out of control.

You hurt people and expect to wash over it.

You make dark out of light

And think it is good.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 


Self-Eulogy

 by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

Do not grieve for me when I go.

Remember that I lived an interesting life;

That I learned and grew and changed;

That I expanded my universe beyond my own skin;

And that my intent is that you do the same.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis


May you Always Feel Loved

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

May you find serenity in a world

You may not always understand.

May experience give you the strength

To walk your path,

Facing each situation

With courage and optimism.

May love and understanding

Always be there

When you feel most alone.

May you discover goodness in others.

May you believe in a world of peace.

May a kind word be yours

Every day of your life,

And may you give gifts

As well as receive them

To teach love.

May the teaching of those you admire

become part of you.

May you place value on the goodness

In your heart.

May you see the beauty.

May you see clearly.

May you view everything

As a worthwhile experience.

May you find enough inner strength

To determine your worth for yourself and

For your accomplishments.

May you always feel loved.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 


Good Again

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

The grayness can become thick and heavy
When the breeze hits a chink in the wall.
Although it happens in only short bursts and seldom
The intensity, mass, weight push down and down.

The older I get the more I feel the pressure.
I’ve come to curse the breezes that blow through that chink,
And I can’t seem to find any mortar that stays.
I stuff crap in that hole, and it falls right out.

In defense, I call it “alone.”  In reality, though,
It’s loneliness.
Then I remember the sameness, and how much I hate it,
And I’m good again.

© 2017 Bobbi Curtis


Legacy

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

I’m not full of wisdom;
I’m full of questions.

Age does not make you smarter or wiser.

It makes you realize how little you know,

How much you still want to learn,

And how little time you have left to learn it.

I’m not full of hopes and dreams;

I’m full of despair.

Age brings the knowledge of all you’ve missed –

Opportunities gone forever,

Possibilities never realized.

However, the chance still exists

To make a difference,

To teach the young and the dreamers

To never let their dreams blow away.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 



The Thinning

By Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

I love the days when the leaves make merry on the asphalt,
Skittering and scattering about;
And the creaks of pine boughs are reminiscent of the groans of old timber on sailing                  vessels,
Floating on open and choppy seas.

When the wind whips my hair into a frenzy and tugs at my pantlegs and sleeves,
I know that Samhain is around the corner;
The energy of the veil thinning grows more palpable by the day.
The urge to meditate longer and more often tugs and tugs . . . like the wind.

The memories of those long (or short) gone begin to fill
My head and my heart.
I miss many —  more every year, every month, every day.
I breathe in the smoke of dead leaves and pine needles, remembering more,
Forgiving more, loving more.

Even at other times of the year, no matter the season,
The sound of leaves skittering and skuttering on asphalt
Gives me a bit of a shutter, a bit of a shake,
As I feel the winds of late Autumn through my hair.

©  2015 Bobbi Curtis


The Owl

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

Sailing through the moonlit night
O’er trees bereft of leaves,
Stringy stalks in eerie light,
A landscape that bereaves.

Snowy ground of unpeaceful peace
And scathing, ripping gale
Tear the soul before release
And cause the breast to pale.

Night so black the demons fear
Not the coming of the light.
But, instead, that deepest dark
That has no blackly peer.

But the snow white owl,
Gliding and dipping,
Blending with the trees,
And moving with the wind
Defies the dark
Fights the black
And opens the soul to light.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 


Take Care

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

It waits for you.

It knows no time.

The fangs and claws

Reach and clamor

Knowing no limits.

The bridge between life and death

Is now complete.

Watch your soul

As you might watch your feet

On a broken path.

For the broken path is the

Life you led,

The one you thought

Was open to love.

Do you know with what you deal?

This is the light side of her nature.

She comes from the world of experience

Where compassion does not reside.

She walks the dark

And finds the depths.

She knows the bottom, the belly, the underneath.

She knows the slime, the dregs.

She sees what makes others close their eyes,

Back away and turn to run.

She stands her ground,

Waits out the inevitable,

And glares at the results she knew would come.

She holds no reigns, riding free,

Allowing others to do the same,

Letting them trip themselves,

Hanging themselves on their own ropes.

Watch your feet on the broken path.

Mend the way . . . your way.

Watch your soul.

Take care, for the demon lies within.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis


Gray Intent

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

When the delicate mist from a diamond forest
Licks the luscious, purple petals of the lavender,
Bringing light sleep filled with honey whispers,
I swim in a sea of foolish dreams,
Singing from the delirious heat of the screams.

The juice, the green milk, of the thistle
Touches my lips and tongue,
And I drink from the lake beneath
The Tree of the Silver Wreath.
The black knife fits my hand.
It’s sheath stays at my side.

As Death’s dark desire kisses heartbeats goodbye,
I seek the Shadow of gray intent
And die in the arms of a lover.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 


By Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

In death there is peace.

At night comes the old darkness.

Melded — Paradise.

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 


By Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

The fires burn brightly.

The birds came singing their songs.

Why is there no love?

© 2015 Bobbi Curtis 


Gone

by Bobbi Bartsch Curtis

My friend left today.
He’s not coming back.
He went on to better things.
Because he is the way he is,
He’ll watch over me, he always did.
Now, however, he has a better vantage point
And a contact with the Higher Power.
Things will not be the same,
My life is missing something,
But has gained so much more.
In loving memory of Mitchell Green
June 14, 2003
© 2003 Bobbi Curtis 
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s