deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fragments
I gather fragments of my life,
savoring all, each holds a key,
I kiss each one of my wife’s,
they’re all gone now, I outlived three.
That shouldn’t be is what I think,
the life I’ve lived doesn’t seem right.
I lived it with a nod and a wink,
I’m still here and that is my plight.
I’ve pardoned myself; that is true,
but forgiveness comes with heartache,
there are nights when I’m so blue,
I lay with eye opened wide.
Why should the bad outlive the good?
I’ve gone with each of them if I could.
Still, inside my black heart I know,
I’ve been saved for a future
wondrous glow
(c)March 1, 2017 / Jerry Pat Bolton
savoring all, each holds a key,
I kiss each one of my wife’s,
they’re all gone now, I outlived three.
That shouldn’t be is what I think,
the life I’ve lived doesn’t seem right.
I lived it with a nod and a wink,
I’m still here and that is my plight.
I’ve pardoned myself; that is true,
but forgiveness comes with heartache,
there are nights when I’m so blue,
I lay with eye opened wide.
Why should the bad outlive the good?
I’ve gone with each of them if I could.
Still, inside my black heart I know,
I’ve been saved for a future
wondrous glow
(c)March 1, 2017 / Jerry Pat Bolton
Published 5th Mar 2017
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5th Mar 2017 8:32pm
Jerry you are indeed still here for a purpose even if we don't understand it..
great insightful write..
love Brenda
great insightful write..
love Brenda
I can't thank you enough, Brenda for you for your persisted and always upbeat support. But just know I am very appreciative of it.
Anonymous
5th Mar 2017 9:11pm
Jerry, my friend...there is no doubt you have no such thing as a black heart...you have lived and you have learned and you pass along these lessons through the provoking ink you place before us...one with a black heart would not do such a thing...perhaps over the years, a little singed? Only to heal over and become fresh once again...that is indeed your wondrous glow...that's how I see it and you anyway...much love to you...
xoxo Taryn
xoxo Taryn
Ah . . . You understand where I was coming from when I referred to my black heart. Surely I am not not the same as I used to be, and that comes from shrugging off so much turmoil throughout the years. I'm different, yes, but I still cannot shrug off my memories of those black days. Thank you so much for always understanding me.
6th Mar 2017 3:54am
Dear Jerry......this brought tears to my eyes and heart.......you have not a black heart.......I know cause I've witnessed the heart within you......like how you luv and care for Zoe......so beautiful how you luv her it touches me......the wirtes you ink about who you've luved in the past are so heart warming.......you may never know why you've been spared in life.....I know how thankful I am thought.....cause you've become a sacred friend of mine......glad our life paths have crossed......purple luv & hugs xo :)
6th Mar 2017 3:51pm
flower, so many thanks going out to you with a hug or to also. I am so very happy to be my age although I sometimes wonder what I have. But to live long enough to become friends with you is very dear to me. Thank you again for being in my life.
6th Mar 2017 4:20am
I don't know if you've heard of Elisabeth Eliot or not, but she was initially the wife of missionary "Jim" Eliot (one of five missionaries killed while participating in Operation Auca, an attempt to evangelize the Huaorani people of Ecuador in 1956).
She survived two husbands, and told her third she wasn't so certain Gods plan didn't include a fourth!
Our light survives when other's falters because someone out there needs it. That in and of itself is a comfort whenever you feel alone. The Universe makes no mistakes. There are no coincidences. Only numbered days in accordance with the height of our candles.
She survived two husbands, and told her third she wasn't so certain Gods plan didn't include a fourth!
Our light survives when other's falters because someone out there needs it. That in and of itself is a comfort whenever you feel alone. The Universe makes no mistakes. There are no coincidences. Only numbered days in accordance with the height of our candles.
6th Mar 2017 3:46pm
Thank you much for you indepth comment on my little poem. No, I had never heard of Elisabeth Eliot, however I remember the murder of her husband. The explanation you presented about one light faltering because someone else needs it is interesting sorta rings true to me. And the height of our candles also sounds copacetic to me. Thank you again or you great comments.
6th Mar 2017 5:23pm
She was an amazing author and speaker. I used to listen to her daily. You would've enjoyed her humor.
