The Found Poems

While a student at Allentown College of St. Francis de Sales (now DeSales University) in the mid-1990s, I wrote several poems. Many of them were either too morbid or too corny (or both) to share how — even more so than those written below.

Poem 18

I was sitting in a bus station wearing cheap drugstore perfume

When I realized that it didn’t matter where I had been

But it is really important where I am going

Day after day my journey through life grows richer with experience

And I feel more content with what I have and

Yet more assured of who I am

(Note: by the way, this is not a true story)

Fly

I wish that time could stand still

Just for a few perfect moments

These would be saved for the special times

That slowly fade from our memories

Like birds moving on to another tree

Long ago I knew something well

That now is a dream to me

Was this meant to be

Or is this just a cruel manifestation

Of my selfishness staring back at me

Disconnecting me from the world

That I push away in pitiless disgust

As if there were no hope

In those sweet little birds

Poem 12

Sticking my fingers through the cracks

Of my glass case

I fear that someone will try to cut off my fingers and

Maim me for life

There is no thing, no person to

Protect me

When I shove my fist through the back wall

And feel the blood run down my arm

Weakened by my false bravery

And never to find security

Long ago I shrunk inside

Afraid to even peek outside

The case of glass

Frightened by disturbing images

Feigned obscene by tragic experiences

When somebody looked at me, looked inside

I could not help but cry out

I was even more afraid when

Nobody heard me

So nobody became my friend

Looking at the shattered glass on the ground

I am confused by the mess I have created

Fragments of time, empty of love

Spread out waiting to be picked up

Holding the glass in may hands

I am thankful to be alive

Happy to know I exist, that I am a

Human being who walks among human beings

With the wind against my face and

A piece of glass in my back pocket

Lost Inside

Life in the box

Is very sad and lonely

Days go in and out

The sun rises and sets again

But everything is still the same

Inside the box

We are confined to our misconceptions

Our dreams get in the way of

Our achievements

We forget who we are in a hurry

To get out of the box

We lie, cheat, steal, murder

Anything to bust out

But the box gets smaller

The lids gets sealed with glue

And we are shipped off to

Unknown destinations

For when we lie to others

Mostly we are lying to ourselves

Not content with the simple things

The things that know their way

Outside of the box

The tiny little box

The further we reach outside the box

The more we are shoved inn

The further away we travel from the truth

Still in the box

Locked in, choking, gasping for air

Dying in the small, ugly box

The very box that we ourselves created

In spite of our foolish selves

Hello

Sometimes the world around you seems to fade

Into another dimension of existence

It feels like nothing matters and

It feels like everything does

It would seem easier to hide from

This strange monstrosity

The passion and diversity of life

Which will so easily suck away our ability to

Appreciate it

Sometimes it would seem life defeats its own purpose

And so to rebel is to be free

But you must not slip away from life

Or from the people and things that you love

Put out your hands and feel the wind

Embrace the many joys of life and you will grow stronger

And better able to combat the fears and doubts that it brings

Do not forget who you are or

Why you were created

Bright as Sunshine

How insignificant is the little speck in my ceiling

Longing to be noticed in its speckled flock

Against all the others yet the same as them in appearance and material

What would make this tiny, little dot special to me or to anyone else?

Maybe I’ll paint it yellow so that

I’ll always know it’s there

And when I see that little dot on my ceiling

I will be reminded of my own insignificance

In the world of omnipotent beings

Yet I will know that I am special

Not because I am yellow or

Because I stand out from all the rest

But because I am not alone

I belong to the flock of specks

I am a part of it and it is a part of me

I am special because others can know me as they know themselves.

Paris

I might rent an apartment in Paris for the summer

Gazing upon the courtyard I will write about

Lonely nights in cafes

Ending in a stranger’s arms

Laughing, loving, and living

I might stroll the streets of Paris this summer

Collecting rare gems I adore

Sipping wine with my lunch and

Sauntering about in the pleasant rays

I may endure many rainstorms by

Paris is always there

Waiting for me, yearning for me,

As I yearn for her

And I wait for her

Here in my home with the cracked window

Running away, away,

And sipping wine with my lunch

Thank You

Where am I

The world I once dreamed of

Seems so far away

It’s oh so lonely at the top of the game

The world I once dreamed of seems

Far less interesting now

So many mysteries uncovered

But at least the mountains still aren’t moving

There is a clear boundary between life and death

And all things will go on

With or without me

Knowing this, I feel grounded

Bound to the earth by her

Tempestuous force

Looking for Love

I always feel lethargic and fatigued

For no reason that makes sense to me

The root of this great sadness in my life

Is deeply hidden beneath the ground

In one hundred different holes and

I don’t know where to start digging

I start on one but then move on to another

In a panic that I will never get anything done

And in fear that no one will ever love me

Despite this great anxiety and frustration,

I will never stop trying to find myself

Hidden away in so many places

How desperate I must be to come back to life

How deeply I long for this resurrection

It seems like the harder I try the

Further away the remnants are

And the longer it will be until we are reunited

So I can be whole again

So that I can be bright and aroused

Ready to plant little seeds

To sprout from this earth in my tidy garden

The beautiful colors and sweet nectar will be

Alive and full of life

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