BUT I DIDN’T

I never told you I loved you.

It would have been so simple

To make it very clear.

But I didn’t.

If I had called you dear,

You might have known.

But I didn’t.

I kept my feelings inside

Wrapped in my foolish pride.

Because I loved you.

I didn’t dream your love was so big

That you could love me too.

When I was examined

The doctor implied I was almost dead.

There was nothing he could do.

I thought I was hanging by a thread.

I wanted to tell you I loved you.

But I didn’t.

I underestimated your heart.

Before I died I wanted to be sure

You would be happy with life,

Somebody’s precious wife.

I introduced you to my best friend.

I wish I hadn’t.

The doctor was wrong,

My heart is strong.

And my friend looks very content

With the woman who was meant

For me.

If I had loved you for one fleeting moment

My dreams would be full,

But I didn’t.

 

4/22/2016

Dan Roberson

 

 

 

HE LOVED HER MOODS

He loved the ocean’s many moods,

From red skies in the morning with all alarms,

He warily observed the smooth horizon

But prepared for her oncoming storms.

Beginning with majestic swells,

The ship rode waves from trough to crest.

Inside the cabin he felt content and safe,

Like being at his mother’s breast.

 

There were also quiet clear nights,

Electric nights filled with glowing fish,

That darted alongside the ship’s hull,

Ready to grant him his favorite wish.

He wished he could be one of them,

Leaping and flying from wave to wave.

But as he watched he felt great despair.

He would never be quite so brave.

The sea could lure him from time to time,

Her beauty had him under her spell.

He would return and walk that rolling gait,

She knew his heart too well.

Seascapes were surreal but always a delight.

Harbors were protection during perilous night.

The ocean was his mother, his wife, his lifeboat,

And from the crow’s nest, his world was afloat.

 

4/20/2016

Dan Roberson

 

THE OCEAN

She surprised me again last night.

Noiselessly she slipped in,

Planting wet kisses on my brow.

“How do you like me now?”

She was cloaked in mystery,

Cold in demeanor,

Yet there was no way

I could ignore her or turn her away.

I loved her. She knew I watched

And had given her my heart.

Like so many others I fell to her charms.

I didn’t want to end up in her arms,

But when she called I came to her,

Enjoying every moment

Until it was time to go.

She pulled away oh, so slow,

And left me quivering and weak,

High on the shore.

I didn’t dare ask for more

Because her beauty was more than a face.

Once again she found her resting place

Among the rocks and the deep

She waited to dance again,

A pattern, a schedule, her life, all there,

The ocean with wind in her hair,

Rushed in with the tide,

And ebbed out with pride,

Bold and beautiful,

She sang a siren’s song

And I understood why all along

Poets like Masefield were entranced

By her whispers and her constant chatter.

She really did matter,

I knew I must stay close

But not lose my head

Someday buried in the briny depths

Where flesh cannot tread.

 

April 18, 2016

Dan Roberson

Too Old

TOO OLD

I’m too old for sex…according to my kids.

My life is over, I’m on the skids.

I’m too old to drive…according to impatient youth

If I object to their speeds, I’m rude and uncouth.

What am I too old for?

I’m too old for hot foods, cold foods, and maybe all foods

My teeth are gone, but my taste buds are good.

I’m too old for women,

But can’t I still look?

My eyes still work.

Does that make me a jerk?

I can admire what young men ignore,

So what am I too old for?

I shouldn’t be hiking, riding any kind of cycle,

Exercise might kill me, might make me smile,

Might give me reasons to walk a mile.

Too old to live, too soon to die,

My time is coming and you don’t need to cry.

I’m not as young, as smart, as tall, as slim,

My medical conditions are real, not based on whim.

I’m not a decoration, a person without a mind,

I’m still me, one of a kind.

Am I too old to enjoy this earth?

Am I without value, without any worth?

I am older than yesterday, younger than tomorrow,

I’ve faced challenges, deep joys, and sorrow.

I’m not too old to love or care,

My love doesn’t rely on muscles or hair.

My knowledge is not based on flimsy lies .

Consider me old but very wise.

Am I too old for one more day?

Too old to kneel, thank God, and pray?

I’m not too old to dream or regret,

Or to appreciate the moments I get,

The world is traveling at a faster pace

But I’ll try to make it a better place.

 

 

April 11, 2016

Dan Roberson

[dr1]

The Sky Is Blue

If you had asked me the color of the sky

I would have told you.

If you had asked me why I cry

My answer would have been true.

So many things you could have known

If you had asked in a normal tone.

If I had loved you a little bit more

You might still be here

Instead of walking out the door.

Communication was not our best skill

Yet when we talked I loved you more.

Each conversation was a thrill.

We made peace and love, not war.

We didn’t have to do things my way

I just wanted a say.

It was more important that we heard

All the inner desires of the heart

Word for word.

If we had refused to argue and fight

Things might have turned out all right.

I still miss you

And dear, the sky is blue.

4/7/2016

Dan Roberson

 

 

You Are a Diamond

You are a diamond.

Don’t ever forget that!

You are a fabulous gem

with beauty that stirs me

and those who see within.

Originally a lump of coal,

You were riddled with faults,

confused like each one of us.

Making choices as you grew,

You made your way,

Learning what hurt you or hurt others.

Under layers  of earth that ugly coal

Was squeezed and went through tremendous heat

and became a beautiful diamond.

You are like that lump of coal

The demands of society and life

combined to put you under pressure and heat

giving you experiences and wisdom

To turn you into the diamond you are.

When you enter a room the lights of your heart

sparkle and shine,

making heads turn and hearts flutter.

you are the most precious type of gem known,

a diamond forevermore.

4/3/2016

dan roberson

 

 

THEY WERE A MUSICAL TEAM

 

They were a musical team,

Playing music with their hearts,

When her bow touched her violin

It sang.

Then his fingers flew over the strings

Of his violin cello

Deftly asking the violin

To dance,

Show a little romance,

And her violin responded,

Calling passionately to the violin cello,

Whispering so softly at times

Only they could hear.

They were a musical team,

Playing music with their souls.

When his bow touched the violin cello,

The strings hummed,

His fingers dancing in time with hers.

The violin cello answered the violin’s whispers,

The music deeper and melodious.

The musicians played on,

Flirting with riff and tune

Their eyes aware of slight variations,

Playing music to soothe,

Music to excite.

A nod of the head,

A quick flirtatious smile,

A slowing of tempo,

A quick burst of energy,

Never competing,

Always building and completing,

Together as a team,

Smooth and loving,

Admiring within each song,

Using their partner’s strengths

To accomplish more than before

That’s what love is for.

December 9. 2015

By dan roberson

 

SECOND CHANCE

Second Chance

 

I’ve been gone, away from joys and tasks that made me unique, but it took me awhile to know how to respond to my friends.  My life has not been my own. I’ve been traveling down a road without any way to return or any way to slow my descent into hell. But you, my friends, are lucky because I will be sharing new concepts and research.  New visions have pulled me out of the depths of despair.

I am not a doctor nor can I officially recommend any medications for anyone. Instead I will tell you what has happened to me and as best I can, tell you my next step. I am looking forward to life again and have left my depression behind. My life is improving because there is new found hope for relief of pain and possible cures for many diseases. The disease that grabbed me and shook my world is Parkinson’s Disease.

At night my legs were restless. My sleeping habits were a concern. I wandered about my house seeking something to distract me. My leg muscles cramped often and I began drinking more liquids in hopes that my fluid levels would rebound and my health would improve. My hands shook. My face sometimes appeared expressionless. Some people questioned if I had suffered a stroke. Internally I felt changes were occurring gradually but I tried to ignore what was happening. I took long walks and exercised regularly.  For short periods of time I felt better but I did not understand my enemy, a strange insidious internal enemy that was drying my brain cells.

Months passed, and then I began counting my failures instead of victories. I no longer wrote three hundred words or more each day. I had dreams of glory but my production decreased.  Short stories and poetry were still inspired by my muse, but the ideas languished.  I no longer had the energy to keep my writer’s ink flowing.  What caused this change? Why couldn’t I keep up with other poets or find ways to urge them onward?  I envied those who tirelessly wrote powerful love letters to the world, or continued to stir consciences and demand action. So what was my problem?

My physical abilities were different. Parkinson’s Disease was weakening my will to write and my will to survive. It would have been so easy to escape the world’s pressures.  Yet despite personal financial battles which stripped me of possessions I had accumulated, including the loss of my beautiful house at the edge of the oak forest, I rejoiced because I still felt physically fit.  I could still walk, talk, and write.  The world was still beautiful and I had a multitude of friends.

My health continued to fail. One knee was replaced in February, another in June. Everything was happening too quickly. Over the next six months my gall bladder was removed and a hernia repaired. I had been almost indestructible and now I was falling apart. I didn’t like what was happening to me but I had no answers. What would happen next?

Mentally I began preparing for the worse.  I would return to the land of my relatives and regroup.  Though I talked of restarting my life, in reality I was going back to die. I could feel the disease working on me and I knew it was degenerative.  I could imagine myself tied to a stake while a predator circled, knowing I would die, the only question was when it would take place.

My arms shook, my legs stumbled over imaginary rocks and sticks, and I knew the disease was getting worse. I lost my confidence in my driving abilities. My neurologist decided I was a danger on the road and reported my condition to the Department of Motor Vehicles. My license was rescinded. I fought depression because now I became confined within a house or close by. Mentally I was tethered without hope of recovery, without any understanding of my future life.  I had nothing to do but smile and do the Parkinson’s shuffle or choose a quick way out.

I almost died one day in the most innocent of circumstances.  I left the water running in my garden and went to turn it off. In one location the water was two inches deep and I stepped through it. The clay beneath the top soil was not letting the water seep through and my shoes were getting caught in the mud. As I looked for a solution I tripped and became tangled in tomato vines. I had no strength to pull myself up so I began crawling towards the end of the row.  I bumped into the electric fence. Mild jolts made me realize that exit was blocked. For over an hour I struggled to escape. The two inches of water became a threat because I couldn’t lift my head for long. I didn’t want to drown and there was no one to help me. I slipped out of my shoes and shook free of the vines. Inch by inch I made my way to drier ground. Finally I was free of the watery trap.  Exhausted from my efforts, I slept a few moments before crawling to a tomato stake. I pulled myself to my knees and slowly got up.

I survived but lost my joy of life. Parkinson’s had won. There was no way to make things better. At least that was what I thought.

My son and daughters were becoming increasingly concerned over my mental state. They researched old remedies and new ways of thinking regarding Parkinson’s Disease. They convinced me to try new ideas. What did I have to lose?

Reluctant at first and very cautious, I tried CBD.  Within days my back pain lessened and my muscles relaxed. After taking this medication, for a few hours I could stand up straight and walk for short distances. I noticed other benefits. Constipation had been a problem but as my body relaxed that changed also. Now I’m able to do a few jumping jacks and pushups. I’m not young anymore but I’m expecting dramatic effects. I’m happy that I’ve been given a second chance to live.