Monday, April 25, 2011

Poem: Autumn Leaves

This is the first poem I ever wrote. Wrote it for an assignment in 4th grade. This is from memory, so it might not be word for word what I wrote in 4th grade. It's short and simple, but I still think it's worth including with my poetry.

Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves come falling down
Slowly falling through the air
Soon at last they reach the ground
Now they only sit there.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- circa 1975

Poem: The Gap

The Gap

I set my sights high. It seems like hard work.
I succeed. I’m excited. Life is good.
I fail. I’m discouraged. Life is no fun.

I set my sights low. It’s easy for a while.
I succeed. I’m unfulfilled. Life is no fun.
I fail. I’m upset. Life is a pain.

I set my sights high, but life seems too busy.
I set my sights low, but life seems too boring.
Either way, I will complain.

Whether I aim high or aim low
Life’s not simple or easy
But only one way brings joy.

I’m beginning to see there’s always a gap
Between my goals and my actions.
I get to choose which gap I’ll take

But whichever I choose,
From moment to moment,
Life occurs in the gap.

A small gap is easy, but leads to despair.
A large gap demands effort, but it gives life.
Which gap do you choose?

-- Geoff Strickler
-- March 9, 2007

Poem: My Father's Son

My Father’s Son

He gave me his voice, but I make it my own.
He gave me his gifts, but I make them mine.
He gave me his values, but I live them my way.
He gave me his looks, but I am not him.

He gave me his trust, which I sometimes abused.
He gave me his love, when I was confused.
He gave me his strength, taught me to be bold.
He gave me his time, a treasure untold.

He gave me his money, so that I could learn.
He gave me his wisdom, so that I could earn.
He gave me his pride, so that I could be proud.
He gave me his life, so I could live mine.

A greater gift no one can give,
Than to give all you have,
So another can live.
I am my father’s son.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- Dec 12, 2006

Poem: A Free Man

A Free Man

Touch me, I feel.
Hurt me, I cry.
Cut me, I bleed.
Reject me, I ache.
My heart breaks.

Move me, I weep.
Kiss me, I melt.
Embrace me, I warm.
Love me, I love.
We become one.

I want you to know my success, not my failure.
I want you to see my goodness, not my ugliness.
I want you to know my skill, not my limitation.
I want you to see my strength, not my weakness.
I want you to think I am perfect. I am not.

I am tough.
I am fragile.
I am strong.
I am breakable.
I am human.

Though I may portray otherwise,
I am but a man.
This is the real me.
In embracing it, I am free.
I am free.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- Dec 12, 2006

Poem: Words Want to Be Read.

(a short poem, intended to be sung, perhaps the refrain of a song not yet written)

Want to be read
Dream to be spoken
Free them from the page
Bring them to life
Let them take flight
They cannot survive in your cage

-- Geoff Strickler
-- Oct 30, 2010

Poem: As Glaciers Melt

As Glaciers Melt

As days roll by
And seasons go
As trees grow high
The wind still blows

As moons shall rise
And suns shall set
As waves shall break
The tide moves yet.

As volcanos erupt
And mountains grow
As cyclones spin
The river still flows

As snow shall fall
And storms shall rain
As lakes go dry
The oceans remain

As glaciers melt
And mountains erode
As times shall change
The love still grows.

-- Geoff Strickler
-- Nov 14, 2010

About the Blog Title

The blog title comes from a poem I wrote. I think the poem explains it better than any description would so here it is.

Divisionist History