The Poetry Library
"Every poem is a doorway. Some will make you smile, some may bring a tear, but my hope is that somewhere among these words you'll discover a little of your own story."
Welcome to the Poetry Library
"Take your time.
Walk slowly.
Open any door that speaks to your heart.
There are no wrong choices here."
Welcome.
For more than forty years I've tried to make sense of life through poetry. These poems were written during seasons of joy, heartbreak, faith, loss, laughter, and hope.
They are pieces of my journey...
and perhaps somewhere among them, you'll find a piece of your own
Over 300 poems...
100+ original songs...
Four published books...
One hope: that no one leaves here feeling alone.
Where Would You Like To Begin?
📖 Family & Memories | ✝️ Faith| ❤️ Love & Marriage |💔 Divorce |🌱 Addiction & Recovery
🕊 Suicide & Hope |🦋 Dementia & Caregiving 🎄 Holidays |🌻 Just Life | 🤝 Friendship
FAMILY AND MEMORIES
A MOTHERS PRAYER
"The prayers of a mother never truly end. Even after they're gone, their love and faith continue to echo through the hearts they leave behind."
Taking time to look back
Reminiscing on a life gone by
I've been so very blessed
But never really wondered how or why
I can't help but think of Momma
And the gift of all her love
The ever-watchful heart she had
Was a gift from up above
Never, ever will I forget
The day that she went home
In all my numbness and my grief
I felt so very alone
I thought of all the prayers
She prayed for us each night
Her fervent prayers with hands held up
To help us through our lives
I've heard and seen her pray
With such emotion and tears
Each word blessed with grace
Countless millions through the years
Those prayers are now gone
The unconditional love as well
I feel the giant void
Deep inside my soul, I can truly tell
What were those prayers?
I really wish I knew
If I just close my eyes
I can hear her heart so true
She'd pray:
"Lord, give my son the happiness
He seeks each and every day
Keep him safe and guide his footsteps
As he walks along life's way
Give him love and peace within
And help him understand
That even when life hurts him
He's still held in Your hands
Tell him Lord I love him
With a mother's love so true
And even if I'm not there beside him
I'll still be watching over him for You"*
A PARENTS POEM
"Tiny hands, endless love, and the promises every parent quietly carries inside their heart."
So tiny
So helpless
So needful of my touch
So precious
So special
I love her oh so much
My heart
So full
So blessed
Beyond my words
That pout
That cry
The sweetest sounds
I've ever heard
These tiny fingers
And tiny toes
I counted them
All ten
My soul
So full
Can't wait
To watch your life begin
I'll watch
I'll pray
I'll lead you
Through this life
My love
I promise
To be your shining light
Never fear
My tiny one
I'll keep you safe from harm
You'll always
Be so very welcome
In these warm
And loving arms
MOTHERS DAY
“A dream, a phone call to Heaven, and the longing for one more conversation with a mother whose love never left.”
>
It was just another Mothers Day
And all the kids had come and gone
We’d laughed and talked of memories
Of childhood times at home
The evening started setting in
And supper came and went
My mind was on my Mother now
My rock, my dearest friend
I couldn’t get her off my mind
I missed her with every breath
After many years of grieving
I still hurt from her death
My eyes got heavy sitting there
My reality turned to dreams
I entered into another world
Free from toils and schemes
I thought out loud, “I’ll just call mom up
I’m sure she’ll take my call
Of all the loves of all my life
It’s her I’d like to speak to most of all.”
I reached for my telephone
And then to my surprise
I knew Heaven's number
A small tear fell from my eye
An angelic voice answered
“This is Heaven, Can I help you?”
I was so shocked and excited
I didn’t quite know what to do
When I had finally gathered myself
I boldly asked the Voice
“I want to talk to my Mother.”
She said, “That’s an Interesting Choice.
You see your mother's standing here
And she was calling you.
But here in Heaven, it’s always Love
That just keeps shining through!”
There was a small pause
Then I heard the most wonderful sound of all
It was my mother's dear, sweet voice
On the other end of the call
When I was able to finally speak
We talked and talked and talked
We talked of kids and grandkids
And about our Christian walk
But then she finally said to me,
“Don’t worry my dear Child
There’ll come a day when you’ll join us
And your grieving put aside
Your Dad, he’s here too
With all of those, that you still hold so dear
So patience until that Great, Great Day
That you’ll be finally near.”
We said goodbye
The phone went silent
And I awoke with a start
I looked down and noticed
The phone clutched close to my heart
It was a gift from God, I know it was
That’s all that I can say
But I will never have, on this ole earth
A better Mothers Day
CALL ME DAD
“The moment life changes forever — when love suddenly becomes responsibility, protection, and a tiny voice gives you the greatest title you'll ever carry.”
I didn’t know what was happening
behind that thick door
But I knew when it opened,
I’d be different than before
Where once there were two,
I would very soon see
Beautiful eyes of blue
and us two become three
Bursting through that door
in a tiny bed flanked by scrubs
I would very soon discover
what it meant to fall in love
Feeling that heavy weight
every dad feels inside
I wanted to hear her little voice
then the nurse made her cry
The sound that came forth
pierced me straight to my soul
I knew I must now protect her
like nothing I’d ever known
The tears, they welled up
as my chest filled with pride
I had never felt a rush
like this of love deep inside
You know the cry of a baby
to some must seem sad
But for the first time in my life
my new name was Dad
She captured my heart
with her sweet little voice
It was right then and there
I knelt to thank God for His choice
He gave me this little one
I just can’t say why
But I’ll cherish her and love her
till the day that I die
MY DAD
“A son's memories of laughter, lessons, fishing trips, and the painful reality of watching someone you love slowly change.”
He was rough and tough
A real redneck till the end
He was loud and he was funny
He was my dad, he was my friend
We played catch, we caught fish
We hunted squirrels, rabbits, and ducks
I mowed the yard, took out the trash
To get my allowance of three or four bucks
I loved him and I feared him
Especially when he'd get mad
But I was always proud of him
Because no one had a dad like my dad
He wanted us to just be good people
To take care of our family name
But as his life grew longer
I noticed something wasn't the same
As his flaming red hair turned to gray
And his smile began to fade
He looked back with regret
At some choices he had made
He loved us all, it was very true
I'll never, ever doubt that fact
But I only wish he could have recovered
And somehow gotten his sense of humor back
The world he was now living in
Was to him devoid of truth and trust
We began to keep our distance from him
And it became clear to all of us
He was changing in many ways
His mind was clogged with frustration and fear
Where had my dad disappeared to
The man that I held so dear
I now choose to remember those early days
When we caught fish and laughed out loud
Those precious days of a dad and his son
When he made me so very proud
THE KARAOKE QUEEN
“A story of desperation, hope, kindness, and the unexpected moments that can change a life forever.”
She crept into their room
To kiss them goodnight
She wiped away her tears
She was weary from the fight
They lay there in peace
As they dreamed in their sleep
She was down to so few options
She dropped down to her knees
“Please Lord,” she asked
“Help me to help them see
I’m trying so hard to make it
To provide them what they need”
Her money was gone
The next day lay ahead
The cupboard was now empty
No canned goods or bread
She put on some makeup
Brushed her blonde hair
Put on her best dress
Then lay back in her chair
Her sister arrived
To stay when she left
She had to find work
She took a deep breath
Her car was not pretty
Her gas was so low
She took off just hoping
Her bad luck would go
Driving to town
She noticed the cars
Were all parked in the lot
Of the local town bar
“Karaoke Tonight”
The sign blinked bright
She saw two hundred dollars
Was the grand prize that night
She parked her car
And walked to the door
The line was so long
She just stared at the floor
When she reached the front door
The man held out his hand
“Ten-dollar cover charge
For the contest,” he said
She felt her heart racing
She had tears in her eyes
“Sir, I don't have any money
I hope that's alright”
“I'm sorry,” he said
As he pushed her aside
“It's the same for everyone
So I'm sorry... goodnight”
“I'll pay her charge,”
Said a man on the right
“Let the lady on in
I need more singers tonight”
She didn't want to take the money
But she thanked him instead
“My name is Karen,”
She quietly said
“They call me Jack
I'm the Karaoke King
I own this here contest
Because, girl, I can sing”
She thanked him again
Then turned to go in
She felt so alone
With no supporters or friends
She made her way to a table
Through the lights and the noise
She opened the song list
To find the right song for her voice
“There you are,” a voice thundered
Jack was there by her side
“I've been looking for you
Since you came inside
Do you mind if I sit down
For a minute or two
I can sense a real sadness
Karen, why are you so blue?”
She didn't quite know what to say
To this boisterous man
But he did pay her way in
So she slowly began
“Jack, I'm a mother
Who's at her rope's end
I have two wonderful little boys
Who love me, my friend
I'm broke and I'm desperate
And looking for work
I'm numb from the pain
And cried out from the hurt
I've never sung a note
Outside of my car
But tonight I need a miracle
Right here in this bar”
Jack's face was turned down
To his peanuts and beer
She noticed on his cheek
What looked like a tear
In a soft voice he whispered
“I'm so sorry for your plight
I'll do what I can
To try and help you tonight”
He got up from his chair
And walked slowly away
He made her feel better
Than earlier that day
She picked out her song
And she turned the slip in
Jack took the stage
With the biggest of grins
“You all know me
We've been coming here for years
We've shared lots of good times
And bad times and beers
I love to have a good time
And I love to sing
And of course you all know me
As the Karaoke King
But tonight there's a fresh face
Right here in our bar
She's had some tough times
And her life has been hard”
Jack took off his cap
And waved it around
He said, “I'll pass this old hat
When she makes her first sound
So without further ado
And our first guest tonight
Here's Karen to come on up
To the mic”
The loud bar grew quiet
As she made her way up
She just knew the crowd
Could hear her heart racing up
She stepped onto the stage
Then looked out at the crowd
They burst into applause
And whistles so loud
Jack passed his old hat
Starting out on the right
The music started playing
And she felt the cold fright
The words started without her
But she quickly caught up
She sang with such passion
Hoping it was enough
When finally the very last notes
Were played out
The crowd stood to their feet
And started to shout
“Karen!” they hollered
Until her head began to throb
She buried her head in her hands
And tried to thank them through her sobs
Feeling a huge hand on her shoulders
She turned around to see
It was Jack with his hat full of money
She asked, “This is for me?”
He smiled long and hard
He said, “Yes, this is for you
For now you can smile
And stop feeling so blue”
She hugged him and thanked him
For what he had done
She said, “I'll never forget
What you've done for me and my sons”
The years went by
And she would often look back
To the night her world changed
And she met her sweet Jack
Now they sing together
In a life that's a dream
The Karaoke King Jack
And Karen,
His Karaoke Queen.
FINALLY HOME
“A poem about grief, faith, and the bittersweet journey of saying goodbye — holding onto tears on earth while believing in joy beyond Heaven's gates.”
The tears are here
Streaming down our cheeks
Her pain is now over
Her spirit is now free
She has finished her race
It was anguished and sad
To know she is home-bound
Makes us all more than glad
But still the tears are here
The void that's created
Can never be filled
The memories so vivid
When we are quiet and still
The loss of a mother
A wife, sister, and friend
Is such a great loss
So hard to comprehend
But the tears are still here
On the streets of Heaven
Tears of joy fall like rain
A beloved believer
Is now coming home to take her place
They can't wait to welcome her
As she steps on those golden streets
There's a multitude of angels
There for her to meet
And tears of joy fall
Like diamonds in her soul
Now she's finally home
Now she's finally whole
But the tears are still here.
THE BALLAD OF ANCEL AND SADIE
“The story of two souls who built a life together with love, faith, and unwavering devotion — proving that true love does not end when this life does.”
Ancel was a young, hardworking man
Sadie was a beautiful Indian maid
They fell in love down by the river
Never knowing what path their lives would take
Sadie kept and served her loving husband
Ancel's heart was true, he loved his wife
The twists and turns they walked together
Hanging on to love, hanging on to life
He was a carpenter, a very good one
He built his house, nail, board by board
The two discovered something was missing
That's when they learned to serve the Lord
Ancel became a preacher in the pulpit
Sadie learned to play a red and white guitar
He would preach to whoever would listen
And she would play with all her heart
The two were blessed with two loving daughters
They raised them with love and hugs so tight
Their love stayed true, hands clasped together
Hardly ever straying from each other's side
Sadie was there at Ancel's bedside
When the Lord above called Ancel home
She knew her service here on earth was over
And in six months, she no longer was alone
Sadie keeps and serves her loving husband
Now Ancel's heart is true, he loves his wife
No twists, no turns, they are together
Hanging on to love in Eternal Life
THE HUMMINGBIRD
“A treasured gift becomes a reminder that love, like fragile glass, survives not because life is easy, but because it is handled with care.”
I always admired and loved it
When I would visit my grandma's house
But it was always just out of reach
When I stretched my little arms out
So high on the shelf
So safe and so secure
There was something about it
So fragile, so pure
It was a small glass hummingbird
With wings that stretched so far out
And a beak so long and fragile
How it never got broken,
I don't know how
I asked my grandma
If I could hold it one day
She looked up and stared at it
And softly began to say
“This precious little hummingbird
Was a gift from my dad
I can't quite say how old it is
But when I got it, I was amazed and so glad
I got it on my wedding day
In a wooden box that he made
He took it out and handed it to me
And said, 'You won't break it, don't be afraid'
Then he told me this small glass bird
Was for my husband and me
'It's a symbol of your love for each other,'
He said through a tear and a sigh
This little one survived
Through many years of hard life
We watched over it and adored it
Through happy times and through real strife
We treated it like our love for each other
With such care and respect
Through children and wars
Struggles, sickness, and death
We were determined to keep it safe
And we both thought it through
When we two have gone home
We wanted to give it to you”
She carefully handed me the hummingbird
I held it tight in my hands
Grandma cupped her feeble hands below mine
In case it needed a soft place to land
I could see just how priceless it was
To my grandma that day
We admired it for a few minutes
Then returned it to its safe place
It was such a sad day
When she left to go home
I remember holding the hummingbird box
Feeling so sad and alone
This treasure she left me
I keep in a special place on my shelf
I carefully brought it down
When I took a wife for myself
Now it sits in an honored place
A symbol of my love
For the wife that God has given me
A gift from a winged angel above
THE NAP
“A simple childhood memory becomes a priceless treasure — a reminder that the smallest moments with the people we love often become the memories we carry forever.”
I was just a small boy
Who, I'm sure, had been fussy that day
My mother decided
It was no longer time to play
She said we could take a nap together
Because she too needed some rest
So we went to my bedroom to shut our eyes
For however long we could get
It was a beautiful spring day
The sun was shining so bright
A breeze was blowing through the open window
All was peaceful, all was right
Momma drifted off to sleep
She was snuggled close to me
The curtains gently swayed in the breeze
I finally closed my eyes and fell asleep
That precious memory I would hold
For all of my life
A memory we would talk about
On the last night of her life
She drifted off to sleep
Because she needed some rest
I'll forever be thankful for her
And forever be blessed
FOREVER
“A reflection on love that never truly leaves us — finding someone we cherish in the beauty, wonder, and quiet moments that surround us every day.”
I’ll hear you
In the sound a snowflake makes
As it gently settles
To the ground
I’ll see you
In the beautiful, vibrant colors
Of a rainbow
In the early morning mountain mist
I’ll feel you
On the soft skin
Of a newborn baby
I’ll be amazed by you
In the fragile
And colorful wings
Of a butterfly
I’ll smell you
In the fragrance
Of the first rose of spring
I’ll forever hold on
To your warmth
In our final caress
I’ll thank God
For the gift of you
Forever
SEASONS
“A reflection on the changing seasons of life — youth, strength, aging, and the comfort of having someone walk beside us through every storm.”
The cold winds blow hard
In the winter of my life
I lash out at everything
My kids, my God, my wife
Longing for my youth
Remembering my spring
I miss the days past
When energy and ambition were king
My summer days were filled
With hard work and great fun
Sports and young friends
And health by the ton
I barely noticed the autumn
My hair turned like the leaves
I knew the cold was coming
But still chose not to see
Now the winter is here
In all of its fury and pain
I look down at my legs
That once were so strong in the game
Now it's step by step
Each one such a struggle
Just to stand up from my chair
Is such pain and more trouble
My frustration is great
My patience is gone
My choices are few
I long for the sun
I desperately need the summer
To come back again
But I know this cold, cold winter
Will soon see my end
My wife lovingly served me
For all of my life
She shared all my struggles
And endured all my strife
Together we'll face this harsh winter
Warming each other with our love
Soon we'll find our eternal springtime
In the sunshine of Heaven above
KIDS AND GRANDKIDS
“Poems about childhood, fatherhood, innocence, growing up, and the moments that remind us how deeply children and grandchildren shape our hearts.”
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Mathew 19:14
I have four daughters. All four are equally wonderful and each one comes with their own challenges and questions. Nothing on this planet could I love more. My daughters have had to develop some patience with me as I make my multitudes of mistakes trying to parent them. Sometimes I just blow it and other times I have to wait on them as they climb out of whatever hole they’ve fallen into. I always felt my job as their father was to protect them at all costs. If I could just keep them alive and well until they got to be functioning adults, I figured my job was done. I have discovered that is totally not true. They still need me and I still need them. I never wanted them to be rich and famous, just happy, healthy and careful of our family name. Having a child with disabilities everything changes. Four plus Four equals giraffe and the color blue smells like a watermelon. Seeing the world through her eyes is amazing to watch. I still learn from her everyday. I always complained that I didn’t want my daughters to grow up so God gave me one that didn’t. What a blessing !
HOLD TIGHT ONTO INNOCENCE
“A reminder to treasure and protect the wonder of childhood — because innocence is one of life's most precious gifts, and it slips away far too quickly.”
Hold tight onto your child's innocence
Protect it with all your might
So few things are more precious
And so easily fade from their sight
Our children deserve to keep it
Their immortality and joy
Guard them with your prayers
Every precious little girl and boy
Watch them playing
Watch them pretend
Guard that sweet innocence
Try not to let it end
Soon enough their blinders will fall
Soon enough they'll lay down their toys
Soon enough they'll feel those hurts and pains
Soon enough they'll hear the loud noise
Stop this old sad world right now
Hold tight to that innocence they enjoy
Soak in the here and now
Of all the giggles, smiles, and joy
Yes, hold tight onto innocence
Like a fine glass figurine in your hand
Be careful not to break it for them
Because it won't come this way again
Reagan has spent her life teaching me lessons I never expected to learn. Through her eyes I've discovered that innocence can last a lifetime, unconditional love asks for nothing in return, and the smallest acts of kindness often become life's greatest treasures. These poems are my attempt to share the extraordinary world she has allowed me to see.
JUST WAITING
“A tender look at friendship through the eyes of a child whose heart never stops believing someone they love will come back to play again.”
She was here only yesterday
My friend who plays with me
I sit and watch for her return
Just where could my friend be
I'll watch a little longer
I just know she knows I'm here
I can't wait for her return
Her friendship to me is so dear
Who knows why kids are born
Who just aren't like the rest
It could be God puts them where
Special parents can be blessed
These kids are full of love
It overflows to those they trust
The question never comes up
Whether it's fair or if it's just
If I just wait here long enough
No doubt we'll laugh and play
Just seems like it's been so very long
Can't imagine her delay
My dolls, my swing set, and all my toys
Are here for just us two
If she doesn't come to play with me
I don't know what I'll do
The innocence of these children
Stays with them in their heart
They don't understand
When friends grow up
To only leave them where they are
To them, friends are so very special
Their love for them is deep
But time goes on
Friends come, friends go
They try so hard to see
I had another friend before
Who disappeared like this
It's like she grew up and went away
Without even a goodbye kiss
It's getting dark, I must go in
No friend tonight for me
But that's okay, I'll be back here
Tomorrow waiting
She'll be here,
You just wait and see.
WHY THE ANGEL CRIES
“A father's heartbreaking look at watching his child struggle with pain and feeling different — while seeing the beauty and strength she cannot yet see in herself.”
She looks into the mirror
There's a monster looking back
There must be something terrible
To make the other kids turn and laugh
She tries and tries and tries
To stop this beast that takes her pride
There must be something she can do
To help her broken heart so deep inside
She really tries to hide herself
So others may not see
She can only wish she had the answer
To all her misery
There was a time she gave out hugs and kisses
And would smile and laugh and sing
But now people just seem to stare at her
And she feels their cruel sting
Her mommy and daddy love her
But she can see it in their eyes
Their hearts are breaking along with hers
So they wear a smile for their disguise
The medicines they give her
To help her in her fight
Are really hard to take sometimes
Because her mouth doesn't work just right
Sometimes it's very difficult
To carry on each day
Her struggle increases constantly
Each and every day
If only there were answers
To why this angel cries
And maybe a solution
To stop a disability this size
Then maybe she could look into
The mirror just once and see
Just what a gift you are, my lovely child
To all the world
And me
I'M NOT PERFECT
“A reminder that true worth is not found in outward perfection, but in the love, strength, and spirit that live within us.”
I wasn't born perfect
There are flaws that you can see
You can point and you can laugh
Just try to love me for me
Sometimes my life's a struggle
And I don't understand just why
I get so very frustrated
And sometimes it makes me cry
I try to be like them
So that they might be my friend
It just seems they all grow up so fast
And our friendships come to an end
I know that my God loves me
He sent His Son for even me
His Spirit lives inside
And in His Spirit I am free
If I had to choose
To have a perfect body
Or to choose to have a perfect soul
I know my choice is easy
Because I know it's God that makes me whole
He'll always be my friend
From today until forever
And no matter what the world says
His love they'll never sever
So no, I am not perfect outside
And that's okay with me
Because I know it's inside
Where my Lord will always be
A Father's Closing Thought
People have often told me they feel sorry for Reagan.
I understand why.
What they don't always understand is that I don't spend my days seeing a disability.
I spend my days seeing my daughter.
She has taught me more about unconditional love, forgiveness, patience, joy, and faith than I could ever teach her.
She has reminded me that a person's value is never measured by what they can do, but by who they are.
If these poems help you look at someone with disabilities a little differently... then Reagan has given another gift to the world.
And if you ever meet her, don't feel sorry for her.
Just say hello.
You'll quickly discover what I've known all along...
She's pretty wonderful.
— Mark Stracener
Grandchildren
Children’s children are a crown to the aged, and parents are the pride of their children.
-Proverbs 17:6
A Grandchild fills a space in your heart you never knew was empty.
-Anonymous
CHARLEY'S PICKLE
Some days she calls me Pickle
With that beautiful sparkle in her eye
Other days she calls me Pepaw
With her laugh and toothy smile
She brings such joy to our lives
Full of such radiance and fun
Her unkempt curly red hair
As bright as the morning sun
Her childhood spirit so bubbly
And her humor so bright
She always makes me smile
With her amazing radiant light
What a gift she is to us
Each and every day
You never know what's coming next
Or just what she's going to say
She loves her Yaya and Momma
Her Daddy and Ray Ray too
And none of us could imagin
Without her, just what in the world we'd do
She's the cat's pajamas
And the apple of our eye
And one thing's for certain...
This Pickle is one lucky guy.
WHEN KIDS LOSE THEIR WAY
There are many kinds of loss.
Sometimes we lose a child through death.
Sometimes we lose them to addiction.
Sometimes to destructive relationships.
Sometimes they simply drift so far away that they become strangers to the people who love them most.
Yet a parent's heart never stops searching.
It never stops praying.
And it never stops believing that one day the phone will ring, the door will open, and the child they love will finally come home.
These poems are written for every parent who has waited... and every child who still wonders if home is waiting for them.
HAVE YOU SEEN HER
“A parent's cry for a child who feels lost to the world — a reminder that love never stops searching, never stops hoping, and never stops waiting with open arms.”
Have you seen her
I can't find her anywhere
I see her pictures in my heart
It's not the least bit fair
She was here beside me
Not too long ago
Now she's disappeared
I can't imagine where she'd go
Please tell me if you've seen her
She's such a precious child
I don't quite know what to do
Maybe she's lost,
Afraid, and tired
I watched over her so closely
And kept her so very close to me
I protected her and loved her
Then one day, I set her free
I watched her from afar
As she took her glance away
The dangers of the world surrounded her
And she bent to their evil sway
The world took my precious gift
And did such awful things
It persuaded her to follow them
Told her what songs to sing
Like a tiny glass figurine
That's been dropped and broken apart
So this bad world has done to her
As well as my own heart
So please tell me if you've seen her
Please tell me if you do
I want my gift to come back to me
She doesn't have to be good as new
I'll take her back, scars and all
I still love her with all my heart
She doesn't have to be perfect
You see, she's the missing piece
Down so very deep
In my heart
ADDICTION
James 1:12–15
Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love Him.
When tempted, no one should say, "God is tempting me." For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.
I have witnessed numerous people in my life who were full of potential and promise, only to be thrown off course—and sometimes completely destroyed—by addiction.
It is terribly sad to watch as they sacrifice relationships, family, and even their own children in pursuit of what they believe they need. The road to recovery is difficult and requires incredible toughness, humility, and determination.
Some survive it, and others do not.
Relationships are repaired, only to be broken again. Victories are celebrated, followed by setbacks and failures. Through it all, they struggle to reclaim the life they so willingly threw away.
THE MONSTER
Addiction rarely arrives looking dangerous. It often comes disguised as relief, comfort, escape, or friendship. This poem imagines addiction as a monster that slowly takes control of a life—until one day its victim decides to fight back.
He hounded her and stalked her
His bloodshot eyes watched her day and night
She sensed He was always there watching
And could see she was growing weary from her fight
They told her to let Him in
Just to see if she could cope
They never told her of the darkness
Never told her it was the end of all hope
At first she was terrified
When she slowly opened the creaky door to let Him in
Just maybe He could really help her
And maybe she was ready to begin
He numbed her pain and made her happy
Then He brought in His friends to join in the fun
To feel His presence was now her only happiness
The end of real love had now begun
Nothing was more important
Not her family, her kids, or even life
She was living on the edge
The edge of an ever-sharpened, cutting knife
The Monster had taken over her world
Her health, her body, her face
Now, looking in the mirror
She noticed someone else
Had taken her place
"Who is this person?" she shouted out loud.
"This image is old and sick and weak!
I want to see my kids and family.
It's real love and happiness that I seek!"
"They don't love you," she heard him say
As darkness drifted into the room.
"You know you can't stop needing me.
A little of this will help your gloom.
I knew I had you the day you let me in.
Remember, that was your choice to be my friend.
Now you belong to me, my dear,
Until the very end."
This could be the end of the story
Another tragic, wasted life
But against all odds she began to fight him
With the fire of determination blazing in her eyes
It was two steps forward, then three steps back
As she battled every day
She fought and fought her addiction
Such tiny steps along the way
It was the hardest thing she'd ever done
And some days were tougher for sure
But slowly she could finally see the light
Every step, every breath hard to endure
Her life will always be a work in progress
A bloody fight someday she'll win
Watch her now as she helps all those people
Who let the Monster of Addiction
Walk right in
ADDICTION
Addiction often destroys the very things we cherish most. Yet even when we recognize the danger, letting go can be the hardest part of all.
Seven stories high
I look down
Through an open window
I look out
To see a view I always took for granted
A sight I always treasured
Now awash in black smoke
Behind me
My life burns
Behind the fire beckons me
A fire of my creation
Burning everything dear to me
Destruction in every room
Saviors below me
Beckoning me to take the plunge
A plunge to a new beginning
I should jump
I want to be free from the danger
Feeling the flames
I step to the ledge
Crouching to jump
I pause to look back
And wonder...
Should I go back for my matches?
THE BEAST
For many people, addiction is not a habit—it is a predator. It waits patiently, follows relentlessly, and demands to be fed. This poem imagines addiction as a beast that grows stronger every time it is given what it wants
The alarm clock breaks the morning silence
Head in hands, sore, wracked with pain
He swore he'd never
Ever drink like that again
But he walked into his lair
Didn't see him standing there
He put his claws down deep inside
He had nowhere left to hide
He had to Feed the Beast
He walked into his workplace
They all could tell just where he'd been
The bloodshot eyes, they tell the story
Of his struggles and his sin
They know he walked into his lair
Wouldn't see him standing there
They knew the claws were deep inside
And they knew he wouldn't hide
He had to Feed the Beast
He's on his way home from work now
And the craving soon begins
The Beast, he starts to growl
And on his face, an evil grin
'Cause he knows he's coming to his lair
He won't see him standing there
He has his teeth down in his soul
And he's lost all self-control
And he's growing bigger still
Going straight in for the kill
And when his evil's done
He knows he's not the only one
Who wants to Feed the Beast
DEMENTIA
The following poem by Owen Darnell has always touched my heart. It captures the confusion, fear, and vulnerability of dementia better than anything I have ever read. It serves as the introduction to this section.
DO NOT ASK ME TO REMEMBER
Do not ask me to remember.
Don't try to make me understand.
Let me rest and know you're with me.
Kiss my cheek and hold my hand.
I'm confused beyond your concept.
I am sad and sick and lost.
All I know is that I need you
To be with me at all costs.
Do not lose your patience with me.
Do not scold or curse or cry.
I can't help the way I'm acting.
Can't be different, though I try.
Just remember that I need you,
That the best of me is gone.
Please don't fail to stand beside me.
Love me 'til my life is done.
— Owen Darnell
REMEMBER WE LOVE YOU
Dementia is often described as a thief. It slowly steals memories, personalities, and relationships, leaving families grieving for someone who is still physically present. This poem was written for my father during his struggle with dementia.
You are here
Then you're not
You can remember
Now you've forgot
You're loving life
Then all is lost
You've got money to burn
Then ask, "How much does that cost?"
You'd really like a friend
Then sit in your room all alone
You ask everyone to stop bothering you
Then complain no one calls you on the phone
You ask, "Why doesn't anyone come to visit?"
You might as well stay in bed
But you don't remember
All the hateful things that you've said
Where did you go?
What happened and why?
I miss your corny jokes
You were such a fun-loving guy
I only get one father
And one mother too
Since she's been gone from us
You don't know what to do
Your dementia keeps growing
Every single day
The you we all loved
Is slowly fading away
To have you here with us
Your image so clear
But to see that vacant stare
Gives us sadness and fear
You wear your frustration
Like shoes that don't fit your feet
We dread that dark day
When your dementia is complete
We tell you we love you
With tears filled with sorrow
Because we know you won't remember
When dawn breaks tomorrow
We'll keep telling you we love you
We'll smile and be sad
We won't forget you were our hero
Our best friend
Our dad
LOVE IS LOVE
I have written many poems about dementia, but this one is really about love. During a chance encounter on a cold winter day, I witnessed something that reminded me that true love is not measured by convenience, memory, or circumstance. It is measured by commitment. This is a story about a husband who kept his promise.
It was a cold winter day
As we rushed our way into the store
I passed by an elderly lady
Leaning on a car by the entrance door
She looked so weak and tired
Leaning on that cold car
Her eyes seemed so distant
Vacant and so far
I turned around to go back
To see if I could help
She was wearing only a light jacket
Hardly enough to warm herself
"Can I help you, ma'am?
Is there something I can do?"
She said, "I don't know where I am.
Do I know you?"
We brought her a shopping cart
To help steady her as we walked inside
We asked, "Are you here with someone?
Did someone else drive?"
Placing her hand on her chin to think
She searched and searched her brain
"I know I came with someone.
I think... Bradshaw is his name."
I found her a seat
And we went to the service desk
To have them page her friend
We waited a few minutes
Then we paged her friend again
That's when we noticed him
Making his way down the aisle
As he got closer
We could see his crooked smile
"Middy," he said,
"Why did you get out of the car?
You know it's cold outside.
You could have fallen
Or wandered off too far."
She looked him over
Then she said, "Do I know you?"
He turned his gaze to us and said,
"Sometimes I don't know what to do.
This beautiful lady is my wife.
Going on sixty-five years."
He then cleared his throat
To try and stop his flowing tears
Leaning on his walker
He told us about the love of his life
"She has always been my best friend.
You couldn't ask for a more loving wife.
We raised three beautiful children.
They come when they can to give us some help.
But, bless her heart, she just has trouble
Taking care of herself.
It's an honor and a privilege
To help her each and every day.
Sometimes she even knows me.
Sometimes she'll even pray.
I'll never leave her side.
I'll always be her man.
I don't know why she's become this way.
I'll never understand.
But love is love.
And ours will never die.
Her hand still fits in mine.
And I'll always be her guy."
We helped them to their car
Closed the door
And watched them drive away
Our tears were cold on our cheeks
On that cold, blustery winter day
I hugged my wife and told her,
"Love is love, my dear.
I don't know what lies ahead.
Just know I always will be near."
SUICIDE
"It is not seen as insane when a fighter, under an attack that will inevitably lead to his death, chooses to take his own life first. In fact, this act has been encouraged for centuries and is accepted even now as an honorable reason to do the deed. How is it any different when you are under attack by your own mind?"
— Emilie Autumn
IT'S 9 O'CLOCK
My father took his own life after a long struggle with aging, loss, and dementia. Like many families affected by suicide, we were left with grief, unanswered questions, and a lifetime of memories. This poem was written in the days that followed, when I still found myself reaching for the phone at the same time every morning.
It's 9 o'clock in the morning
Time to give you a call
Hopefully you've had your breakfast
And you're not too busy to talk
You're probably sitting in your chair
With at least one cat on your lap
I can see you in your T-shirt and shorts
Wearing that Korean Veteran's cap
But there's no answer this morning
And there won't be one tomorrow
You took away our conversations
And filled our hearts with sorrow
Old age was not your friend
It sat on your shoulders like a beast
You cursed it and you loathed it
To say the very least
I'm not angry
But my questions will never end
Where were we in your thoughts
When you were thinking through the end?
There's such a large void in our lives
That only you can fill
We'll try to fill it with good memories
When we are sitting quiet and still
Peace is what I pray for you
And for us, healing and love
Now no one will stop your singing
In that Heavenly Choir above
SILENCE
After a suicide, the questions often become louder than the answers. This poem was written about the silence left behind and the conversations that never had a chance to happen.
The silence is so loud
Sometimes it hurts my ears
I know you're far away
But somehow you're still so near
So many questions left unanswered
The truth so hard to find
Somehow your big ol' voice
Is still playing in my mind
A vision in my head
A chair, a hedge, a note
It's what you didn't say that matters
In those random words you wrote
Your phone was ringing that morning
While you stood there looking at the view
I wish somehow you would have answered
Because we had plans for you
This loud silence will always remain
The wreckage now is clear
We'll sort through and keep the precious memories
That we now will hold so dear
THE BOX
After a loved one passes away, families are often left sorting through a lifetime of possessions. During that process, I realized that the things that matter most rarely fit inside a box. This poem is about the legacy we leave behind and the
memories that truly endure.
It's all behind us now
He is gone and we are here
Today we shuffle through his belongings
And keep what, to us, is most dear
Pieces of his life
Reduced down to a box or two
All furniture and clothing taken or donated
To friends, family, and a select few
What to save
What to store
And what gets thrown away
One thing became obvious
To me that long, sad day
Very little had any meaning
As I stared at the keeping box
Except a diary or two
Where he had written down a few thoughts
He always said we'd have a giant garage sale
When he was at peace and gone
He thought he had some treasures
That we could sell when he moved on
As I kept staring at that box
My mind began to ponder
What would I leave behind for my kids
When God called me home up yonder
I hope that I leave something
That will help them in their walk
I hope that I leave kindness
And a legacy of love in their thoughts
I hope they can close their eyes
And feel the hugs so tight
And maybe bring a smile or a laugh
When they remember me late at night
I hope they love their children
As much as I loved them at the start
And protect them from their hurts
On their knees and in their hearts
Then all will be just fine
When my clock hits its last tick and tock
Because then it won't really matter
What's in that little ol' box
THE HOLIDAYS
All of us have wonderful memories of holidays past. Our childhoods were filled with wondering what we would get for Christmas or longing to see beloved family members gathered around the table at Thanksgiving. There are so many precious memories.
Losing parents and grandparents changes the holidays completely. You still enjoy watching your children get excited about that magical time of year, but so much is different.
My mother was an excellent cook, and she absolutely loved making holiday desserts and candies for everyone to enjoy. Occasionally, I would stay up with her as she cooked and basted the turkey in the oven. Those holiday smells and memories have stayed with me throughout the years.
These memories are a true holiday gift.
MY GIFT
One Christmas, my mother finished her shopping early. Before Christmas arrived, she went home to be with the Lord. Among the gifts she had purchased was one addressed to me. I have never opened it.
For as long as I can remember
When Christmas rolled around
Momma always made sure
A gift from her was found
The contents changed through the years
First toys, then clothes or books
There was always a special feeling
To tear open that box and take a look
Time marched on
Her Christmas decorations got smaller
With less lights and much less fuss
But she still looked so forward to the season
When she would get to hug and kiss all of us
Her candies and cookies were so special
The priceless recipes so great
We'd always sit around and laugh and joke
With those awesome treats upon our plate
As time flew past
She never changed
Her love, hugs, and smiles never stopped
Until one Christmas morning
I held in my hand a gift that she had bought
She had finished her shopping early
Then she flew home to be with her Lord
And this small box from her to me
Just couldn't be ignored
The contents probably weren't that special
A shirt or socks or tie
But I just couldn't open it
With the tears falling from my eyes
Now every year I re-wrap the gift
I take such pains to get it just right
Creasing every side and corner
Until it's all smooth, straight, and tight
With every fold I think of her
With every cut a thought
Of all the love she gave to me
No amount of money ever could have bought
I then place upon the gift
A festive, beautiful bow
Then place a tag beside it
That says, "For Mark," so all will know
It reminds me what a gift God gave to me
The day that I was born
More than any gift
I could get on Christmas morn'
MOTHER'S HELPER
Some of my favorite childhood memories took place in the kitchen with my mother. The food was wonderful, but the real gift was the time we spent together. This poem is a Thanksgiving memory I have carried with me my entire life.
With an apron around her waist
And love in her heart
She brought out all her special pans
And prepared everything to start
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving
There was a lot to be done
She laid out all her special recipes
Then she heard a question from her small son
"Whatcha doin', Momma?
Can I help you somehow?"
She stopped to think and said,
"You sure can, son. Just not now."
"Okay, Momma," he said, as he pulled out a chair
He could smell the sweet aroma
Of fresh-baked pies wafting through the air
She went about her cooking
Like a well-oiled machine
He was amazed by her knowledge
And how she kept her hands so clean
Then she brought him a bowl
With some flour and eggs
And a big wooden spoon
That seemed as big as his leg
She kept him so busy
Doing this and then that
Then she took his flour concoction
And with a rolling pin smashed it out flat
Then, signaling him over
To give her a hand
She opened the fridge
He could see a huge turkey in a pan
Together they grabbed hold of the pan
To take it to the sink
He'd never seen a bird
So naked and so pink
He touched its cold turkey skin
So weird to the touch
Looked up at his mom and said,
"We'll never eat that much."
With so much help from her son
This team carried on
They never even noticed
The setting of the sun
Handing him a stick of butter
And putting it in his hand
She told him,
"Rub this all over that turkey."
Then he followed her plan
They shared so many smiles
As she trained her cooking intern
The time to her so precious
Because he was so happy and able to learn
Later that night she told him,
"You go ahead and go to sleep."
But he stayed up with her through the night
And occasionally they'd take a peep
He did finally fall asleep
Somewhere in the night
She felt so blessed to have him
Right there by her side
The next day when they served the turkey
It could not have been better
Because it was made by a team of cooks
A mother and her helper
JUST LIFE
"The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away."
— Pablo Picasso
Life has taught me many lessons, often when I wasn't looking for them. The poems in this section are reflections on those lessons, the people who taught them to me, and the gifts we leave behind for others.
THE GARDENER
Life has a way of surprising us. Not everything we nurture becomes what we expect, but sometimes there are lessons hidden in the unexpected.
She was a gardener
She loved beautiful things
She surrounded herself with flowers
That drew hummingbirds on the wing
She searched all the garden nurseries
Looking to add more beauty to her world
Until one day an unusually unique plant
Into her life unfurled
She brought it home to care for it
It surely would be her prize
She loved it and watched over it
The plant so very beautiful in her eyes
Watering and checking it daily
She waited for the bloom
Surely it would soon flower
Surely it would happen soon
The days became weeks
The weeks became months
She finally saw it wasn't to be
This beautiful plant was no flower at all
Just a healthy, beautiful...
...weed
HORSE FEATHERS
The older I get, the less sense the world seems to make. This poem is my attempt to stop figuring it all out and simply laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Blue tennis shoes on alligators
Some things just don't make sense
Horse feathers and chicken lips
Or pole turtles on a fence
Looking around at this ol' world
Nothing is as it should be
Boys are girls and girls are boys
None of it makes sense to me
Maybe I've lived much too long
But my neck is so sore
From shaking it side to side
Now when the news comes on
I find me a good place to hide
Rattlesnake hips and eight-dollar cups of coffee
Make my brain swoon and wonder why
They both make about as much sense
As two-dollar bottles of water to this guy
So what does it all mean?
How can I relate
To a world that's gone bat-poop nuts?
Guess I'll get back up tomorrow
And somehow find my same ol' rut
If I don't think too hard
To try and figure out
Just how and why and when
And ignore all the total foolishness
Maybe, just maybe, I'll find my sanity again
WORDS OF LIFE
Life is filled with contrasts. Joy and sorrow, hope and fear, beginnings and endings. In the end, the words we choose and the way we treat one another may matter more than anything else.
Darkness, Light
Love, Fight
Sadness, Cheer
Gladness, Fear
Hopeful, Sad
Goodness, Bad
Loving, Hate
Wanting, Wait
Hugs, Apart
Broken, Heart
Giving, Taking
Sleeping, Waking
Work, Rest
Worse, Best
Yes, No
Staying, Go
Cradle, Grave
Hopeless, Saved
Living, Death
Gasping, Breath
Holding Tight
Touching, Sight
Hearing, Taste
Plenty, Waste
Get, Give
Die, Live
Words of Life
We're all the same
We search for love
We play the game
Make your words be kind today
Be careful what you do and say
THE CLOWN CAR
There are seasons in life when it feels as though every responsibility, worry, and problem has climbed aboard for the ride. This poem is about the weight we carry, the stress we create, and the freedom that comes when we finally see ourselves through God's eyes.
It's so heavy
Sometimes it's hard to take another step
So many things are on our shoulders
We just gasp for our next breath
As we age, our cloak gets heavier
We put on layer after layer after layer
We constantly look Heavenward
Sending up prayer after prayer after prayer
Relationships, finances, aging parents, and kids
It seems there's just no end
We stiffen ourselves for what's next
But sometimes we just can't bend
A moment of peace and solitude
Is what we truly crave
But when we think we've finally gotten a respite
More bats fly out of the cave
A poster child for stress and exhaustion
Is what we truly are
We've gotten numb watching
All the silly clowns get out of our car
So what's the answer?
What do we do?
How can we find joy and happiness in our lives?
How do we take off that heavy cloak
And drop the stress and strife?
How do we put the bats back in the cave?
The clowns back in the car?
Could it possibly be so simple
To look in the mirror and really see who we are?
All we can do is be the best we can be
To be the person a loving God made us to be
Because when we look through His eyes and see
We are victorious, loved, and free
THERE'S NO CAT ON MY BEACH
Some mornings begin peacefully. Others begin with complete chaos. This poem is dedicated to every person who has ever started the day with the best of intentions only to discover the universe had entirely different plans.
On a beautiful beach in my dream
Sand in my toes, cold drink in my hand
It's shattered by sounds
I can't quite understand
There's no cat on my beach
There's no paw in my eye
Slowly opening my eyes
I slowly realize
The stupid cat is hungry
Then I glance at the clock
Oh my gosh, I'm late for work
So I go into my morning trot
Fumbling through the dark closet
To gather my clothes
Then running to the bathroom
To brush my teeth and blow my nose
I must feed the stupid goldfish
Before I rush out
Only to find Goldie, belly-up in her bowl
Oh, she's dead, there's no doubt
That's going to be a really sad kid
When she finally wakes up
Now she'll want a bird
A lizard, pony, or pup
No time for that now
I've got to rush out
If I'm late for work again
They'll fire me, no doubt
Grabbing my keys
My wallet and my pride
I jump in the car
For a fast, stressful ride
As I back out of the driveway
I think I've run over a log
Oh my, what have I done?
I've backed over Stanley
My neighbor's three-legged dog
I have no time for sentiment now
He'll see him soon enough
The clock is rapidly ticking
I glance at my gas
It's just not enough
Quickly pulling into the station
To pump me some gas
I grab a couple gallons
Because that would be fast
The card won't work in the pump
So I have to go in
It's Todd the cashier
He has more tattoos than he has skin
"Your card is declined,"
He boldly mumbles out
His tongue ring clinks against his tooth
As he sticks his tongue out
I plead, "Man, I'm in a big hurry.
You know I'm in here all the time.
I've got no cash and no more cards.
Not even a dime.
You know I'll catch you tomorrow
If that's okay."
He strokes his bleached goatee
Smiles and then starts to say,
"Mr. Johnson, how about a tip
The next time you roll in?
What about ten bucks?"
Both his teeth shine as he grins
"Whatever you say,"
Was my speedy reply
"Now I've got to go, Todd.
I've got to fly."
With tires squealing loud
And smoke in my wake
I've got just enough time to make it
Before I'm too late
Clacking and smoking
As I hit ninety-five
I think I can make it
But ol' Betsy might not survive
I make all the lights
And no cops see my sin
The parking lot seems oddly empty
As I rush my way in
An old man in a guard uniform
Starts walking to my car
He's kind of spooky
Kind of strange and bizarre
Getting out of my car
To run to the clock
He raises his hands up
And hollers, "Hey, stop!"
"Is there some kind of emergency?
Just why are you here?
We haven't opened on Saturdays
For over ten years."
I felt quite a shock
When I realized what I had done
I should still be in my bed
Dreaming of sand and the sun
My phone starts ringing
My wife says, "Where did you go?
The neighbor's at the door
And he wants to know
Who ran over Stanley,
His best friend in the world.
And not only that,
You've got a very sad girl."
She kept rattling on
About this and then that
I got back in my car
Took a deep breath and just sat
With the smoke still rising
From under my hood
I turned back to go home
To do just what I should
I'll tell my neighbor I'm sorry
Hug my daughter and flush her fish
I'll continue to do what's right
Feed the cats, buy a new goldfish
I'm blessed beyond measure
I've known that from the start
I may have a scrambled-up brain
But I've got a full heart
THE POND
Life rarely remains still. Every action, every word, every choice creates ripples that reach far beyond the moment they begin. This poem is a reflection on change and the beauty that can still be found within it.
A calm, clear pond
Undisturbed
Its mirrored image
Reflecting all around
A beautiful array of nature
A small pebble thrown
The mirror broken
An ever-expanding circle
Of ripples and reflection
The world of the pond
Changed
For a moment
Still beautiful in its change
CHOICES
Every life is shaped by thousands of choices—some wise, some foolish, some life-changing, and some barely remembered. Looking back, it is often the combination of all of them that makes us who we are.
My life is a stew
Of people, places, and things
Some good choices made
Whether to cry or to sing
Choices that were made
Some good and some bad
Friendships and losses
Great times and times sad
I am what I am
Because of all this
The dark and the light
The tears or a kiss
If only I'd said yes
Instead of saying no
If only I'd said stop
Instead of saying go
If only I'd looked
Before I jumped in
If only I'd tried
Instead of letting it end
The roads that I travel
And the turns that I make
The candles I blow out
On a fiery birthday cake
I'll continue to try
To do what is right
And when I make a mistake
I'll try to keep it out of sight
THE HOURGLASS
The older I get, the more aware I become of how precious time really is. None of us knows how much sand remains in our hourglass, but every grain is a gift. This poem is a reminder to treasure the time we have and to be grateful for the life we've been given.
I have a beautiful hourglass
I treasure it more each day
I watch others as they trod along
Kicking sand out of their way
My sand grows more precious
As it drops down and out of sight
I can't replace it in my glass
Though I try with all my might
Each person has their own hourglass
The grains grow fewer
As the days go by
So instead of trying to replace the sand
Just thank God for His wonderful gift of life
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38–39
Life! Thank God!
What an incredible gift.
I hope I didn't take it for granted or stain it with my constant bad choices.
Thank You for the great opportunity.
Thank You for Your Son, Jesus.
I sincerely hope you have enjoyed this walk through my life so far. I hope you were able to relate to some of these poems. Hopefully, you shed a tear, shared a laugh, or felt a twinge of love. Maybe one of these poems brought back a wonderful memory.
Thank you for giving me a few moments of your very precious time.
Mark W. Stracener