Perfect Stranger

I do not matter please take my love

You do not know me and you don’t need to

Just know that I am here for you

The days are long and nights are longer

Just know that you are not alone

I have nothing to offer but to let you know

That I am here for you

We will never meet, we will never laugh together

But I am here for you when grey are the days

It is sad for me to know you are under covers

And worrying about being alone

I have little love and little happiness

But I give to you, whoever you are

I am tired and I am up late at night

Just know that I am thinking of you

Whoever you are I wish you didn’t feel so alone

I am never going to know you, but I feel you

Know I am out here, and I care so much for you

Don’t search for me, you won’t find me

I love you, whoever you are.

No more crying with the blankets pulled so high

i accept your loneliness and I take it from you

I give you my love, because you need it

I will be a shell, I will be lonely tomorrow

You, will wake up feeling better, because I love you

perfect stranger,

I love you and hate your sadness

just know that I care for you…

perfect stranger...

I hope we never meet

Sunday Session

My feet strike the sand and the wind stings my face

The thunder rolls with a resonating base

I gaze toward the ocean to inspect the grand waves

I peer in the barrel; the hollowed out cave

Waxing my board with great anticipation

As I marvel at the work of Mother Nature’s creation

I speed toward her shores to begin the great hunt

I spot it at once, my quarry in front.

The Forsaken

A movement cascades upon the souls

Harnessing the fire and feeding it coals

Delinquent bedlam blanketed with malice

No longer inanimate it seeks a balance

Locked in your home hide in the corners

Dangerous everywhere fueled by mourners

Drifting in fog and feeding on fear

Sensing the sites finding those near

Future is dead as we are all listed

A number the hunt ensnares the twisted

Escaping impossible fear filled dread

No where to run, the safe are the dead

Terror consumes all the air we breathe

Tasting the time, feeling it seethe

Nothing will work the futures ordained

Those still running have gone insane

Night descends from a dusk deep red

Taking most while they sleep in their beds

A mist of fate settles outside of town

Breathing the air brings up the ground

Hopeless space surrounds us all

Feeling the life being sucked in the walls

A plague of despair is now heavy in the air

Calling our names feeling its stare

Where is the being that eats our life

Murdering the light with fear laced knives

Whispering death, to come on this night

Encouraging terror, promising fright

I lay in my bed and wait to be taken

We are the damned destined forsaken

I drown as I breathe I take in the terror

Consumed entrenched I die while it stares.

Moist Prison Bars

Moist prison walls and freezing steel bars

Seize my bodily being caged from the stars

Dread and anguish weigh in upon me

Contorting my features for every one to see

Wicked violent souls also locked in these walls

Screaming and Shouting for me they call

Utterly alone I’m so afraid

This is now my life, day after day

I should have been more conscious of my actions

Instead of living a live of self-satisfaction

I cannot believe that this has happened to me

All of my friends will wonder where I’ll be

All of my plans all of my life

None of it now matters, unclothed with a knife

My brother won’t get to go to Kentucky

I hope he finds a ride, hope he gets lucky

My sister, my sister, So many things to say

Make sure that you live for yourself, okay

Why is it now that I’m worrying for others

I’ve spent my whole life just living for me

Now that I’m alone I can finally see

All of the people so very far away

They won’t care at all that it’s here I now stay

It flashes so suddenly throughout my mind.

That all of my friends, I’ve treated unkind

I have destined myself to be alone

Beyond even these walls I have no home

Nobody will visit, I will sit and wait

Someone has to miss me, just one of my mates  

The burden I suffer I have earned and it is mine

I will die behind these walls that I am confined

I accept my fate, and that it is far to late

To go back for my soul, to liberate

Instead I must remain and feel ashamed

Waiting for death, knowing I am to blame.

Mostly Me.

This is a poem that I found written by my Mother some years ago.  Love you Momma.

I am a Mother, a Wife, a Mediator, a Fixer, a Matchmaker, a Student, and a Teacher

 Most of all I’m Me

 I am my own person.

I stand on my own two feet and am proud to be me.

I wonder what the world would be like without turmoil

 Without the pressures of society

I wonder if things would be different…

I hear the questions in the voices of my children

 As they search the world for answers

I see myself as the Teacher.

I help them find their way.

As a Mother

I want my children to be independent 

To never lose sight of who they are

To be able to stand on their own two feet 

To proud of what they have become

I look into my husband’s eyes

Tony

 Instantly I know

  He is my touchstone. 

He helps me keep one foot on the ground.

I am a Wife

I feel lost at times…a bit confused.

I ask questions

I am still the Student

I worry sometimes that...

 I’m not growing fast enough

  That I’ve reached for the stars and...

 just hit the ceiling.

I’ve cried a lot during my life

 because of circumstances I’ve been through

 I know that I am Healing

I understand that my life has been full of choices

 I’ve made so many

 Some good

 Some bad

  They were MINE!!! 

I share with my children

 most of the crossroads I have passed

Hoping they won’t have to live some of the bad ones.

I am the Fixer.

I try to help my children

 To be honest with their emotions

So they can choose

 To find their own friends, companions, and lovers.

I am the Matchmaker

I want them to be Happy, Joyous and Free.

I worry when they have problems

 When they get stuck in that rut of life

 When they have arguments

 Problems or conflicts in beliefs that get in their way

I am the Mediator

I show them softness, kindness, a closeness

 That not too many others see.

I am a Butterfly

 Starting to Feel Free

I am a Mother, a Wife, a Mediator, a Fixer, a Matchmaker, a Student and a Teacher

 Most of all I’m ME!!!

Time's Design

Edited by Randy Sturridge

Time is an Illusion, A product of man’s delusion

In an attempt to ascertain a structured solution

We have become prisoners of this disease

Micro=managed, controlled, meeting other’s needs

We no longer strive to achieve self-satisfaction

We are sadly a bi-product of time’s distraction

Always chasing time but never quite catching

We keep on seeking, we keep on fetching

Timely presence warrants minutes on trial

Slaves to the seconds that we have so styled

Living in denial we have lost sight in living

To busy, distracted, sacrificing and giving

Our life is lost and what is the cost

Happiness iced over and time is the frost.

Unfortunate causalities of man’s understanding

As time progresses time becomes more demanding

Slaves we are and slaves we’ll be

Until some soul comes and sets us free

Invariable Memories

Edited by Randy Sturridge:

Everyone needs to stop and take a second...

to understand that today is a day that is unlike any other. 

Because today will turn into tomorrow and today will…

Then…

     …only exist in your memories.

You cannot go back and experience today as it can never again be…

Today, once tomorrow, will remain constant

...but will no longer be relative……

….In that the state of relativity can only exist in the constant that is…

  never to again be.

Live as you are as you progress through your life.

Come into all existence as it is, not as you expect it to be.

Do not be a prisoner of invariable relativity remaining in a constant that is no-more.

Do not become a product of the constraints of fears and guilty sorrow that exists only in memories.

The Hand Crafted Soldier

Randy Sturridge

The hand crafted soldier propped up on the mantle is desolate inside


A thought will never pass through the hollow canvas of his eyes


Wars being fought while the distraught widows collapse at rueful news


Grief stricken sisters with sparkling teared eyes receive savage clues


A soldier has passed amongst his comrades with fear in his voice


Idly standing years before never really having a choice


The hand crafted solder propped up on the mantle doesn't get to say


The soldiers of passing wane good morrow as they ascend to heaven


We commandeer the fortunes and fears of future branded tyrants


Honoring bravery seems so savery if it were conveyed


The hand crafted soldier propped up on the mantle shakes his head in pity


We play the game of offering sweet lives ensuring only confusion


Lies beholden the shadows of congress and the moors of black leaders


Walking so carefully in the darkness to ensure they are safely  shaded


The dogs of death wag their swift tails marking those so jaded


The hand crafted soldier propped up on the mantle salutes his fallen boys


Our country is playing in the large sandbox and soldiers are their toys


Moving the pieces of those they defeated and shuffling off lost hopes


Why don't we account for those in doubt as their voices chimed in votes


Is it not worth it to question the motive of the decisions that bind


The boys down the road now full grown in size are running with a gun


Running the rapids of America rivers shifted by great damns


The times are wicked as are the decisions made by government hands


The hand crafted soldier propped up on the mantle will see you all in hell


Striking the chord as lively as ever for the minions descend in hell


The judgement is now upon your good favor and it is time for dinner


The hand crafted soldier propped up on the mantle rings the dinner bell


The hand crafted soldier is smiling upon us in heaven and in hell.

The Hand Crafted Soldier

Estranged Passions

Love's first embrace entrenches my soul

Enveloping my mind and shatters my defenses

Entangling my thoughts and clouding my words

Isolating my strength revealing all consequences

Love's first kiss drives my mind insane

Tugging ever-gently at my weak body drained

Fighting is vain Love's enthrall is exhausting

All of my vigor is now caged and detained

I am a prisoner clinging to Love's assignment

Pointing, I wander concerned only with enchanting

The thought of delinquency is beyond my awareness

This Love that consumes is forever granting

I am a grindstone existing only for  Love

Love that has defiled my being of pleasure

degraded and detached I beg Love's direction

Love orders death, I end my oppressor's leisure.

My disgust misconception of Love's indiscretions

Have influenced my heart now tattered apart

I admonish the souls in Love's feasting bowl

Understand the danger that Love sings at kind strangers

End

Randy Sturridge

Dear Boy

God is at the Doorsteps and he is asking for me by name

What am I to say to this being for him I have so shamed

“Worry not dear brother for you will soon clearly see”

“It is not what you’ve done in this life but what you promise me”

“I cannot fathom the depth of kindness that your heart holds true”

“What I can tell you “god” is that you know not what you do”

“Let me in out of the rain for the wolves are at my feet”

...Pondering I look around and see were short of meat...

“Good son of Abraham my boy have mercy on this soul”

“Please pardon the door ajar so I may warm by the coals”

...i accept defeat and welcome the meat, I trudge on toward the door...Heave and breathe the door ajar I must heave some more

envelope me in a shadow, stir in me a fright

I look around and come to see im surrounded by night

“what my boy did you think you could dine on my flesh”

“don’t you understand good boy that this was a test”

Dazed and weakened I pull myself up on highn feet

“what good lord you say to me atop all this sleet”

“I follow only you my lord, you must see faith in that”

“Play me boy you dirty snake you filthy little rat”

“we now have plenty of time to understand your wicked horrid thoughts”

“the devil I am dear boy now the time has come to rot”

“noooo…my lord, your feasting bowl, not I, not this eve…haven’t I brought this township good fortune from down upon my sleeves”

“no matter wise crook for your wicked thoughts have turned you over to me…come..come..and come just more and it is hell where we shall be…”

And just like that the boy flew down right into the ground the devilish figure that no one saw never made a sound.

…The story goes that the dear young boy lost his little mind but in doing so he lost it bad or so he confined.