Are you where you want to be?


Poetry: Journey To Reality


As I slowly emerged from my “dark ages”,  poetry was a medium that I used to express much of what was happening in my life.  The free-flowing poem below represents a kind of summary of my downward spiral, followed by my first attempt to “come back to life”.  It reminds me of how I desperately gasped for air during my near drowning experience at age nine.


In search of life and love I boldly ventured forth,

Or so I thought; I wanted all and wanting took in greed,

Each sensation grasping with both hands

To then remain dissatisfied for wanting more.

This world to me must yield its very soul

Its every palpitating breath,

That I might live each passion to the core

And drink the cup of happiness that I deserved.


Come vaporous vine!

Take me into your sun-drenched arms,

Enfold me in your warm embrace.

What ethereal Utopia is your gift

Of deep oblivion.

No pain can touch me, nor bitterness

Taint my chalice of perfection,

With you beside me as my constant friend.


But what is this that you demand?

You crave attention more than I. 

Indeed, not mere attention – this is total slavery!

Where are your magic powers and promised reverie

For those who sip your nectar so divine?

I asked not for this mad confusion

Nor this tormented soul!

Dear God, I feel abandoned and alone.

This kaleidoscope of colors many hued

By children of innocence is perhaps enjoyed,

But my tired eyes and heavy head

Crave not such gaudiness.


Where are my jewels, my crown and scepter gold?

Where is the kingdom that I rule

With all prostrate beneath my very feet?

Why does my head pound to the rhythm

Of a thousand dervish drums from hell?

To me was promised heaven -  paradise!


Merciful night comes down upon this nightmare,

But I find not solace in my sleep

As bitter yellow bile rebels within my guts.

Cool hand of death that you were near

To relieve my tortured and tormented soul.

No! No!  I do not want to die,

To pass unnoticed into the spirit world.

And yet this is not living –

This agonized confusion in my heart.

Can this be the grandiose person that I was,

Who craved so much for life and living?

Who now grovels at the feet of Bacchus,

Leering god of ultimate rejection.


Dear God where are you in my hour of need?

Dare I call upon you whom I have long ignored?

Your once proud child in new humility

Beseeches your assistance, your support.

I am not strength personified as I believed,

But rather like a motherless new-born babe.

Be my Mother, be my Father too

For this death wish is just another fallacy,

Another road to take, to run, to hide, to flee

From life that I so truly long for.

Lift this veil of visions from my eyes,

And let love flood my soul,

For I would drink no more of Bacchus’ opiate,

But of the cup of life.


And if to gain my freedom I must burn,

Then I am ready to accept the flame

Of your immense and deeply cleansing love.

Knowing that you hold the healing balm

Will give me strength to suffer what I must.

For now I see your hand stretched out toward me

That for so long has waited patiently,

You never did abandon my lost soul,

I chose to wander losing sight of thee.

My life till now has been an emptiness

Of barren spaces void of any truth,

Honest feelings always have escaped me;

Yet no, if truth is what I search, let truth prevail,

‘Twas I escaping everything.


Now I must learn to take my steps again,

To fall, then rise to fall once more

And ever rise again –

But not lose heart.

For you my Father, Mother, and my Friend

Will walk with me if I but meekly ask.

And in your love so infinite and wise

Will I find strength to seek reality.


© 20 September 1980