My first delivery of today was the most memorable,
Central Lutheran Church right at the corner of the road,
A homeless man lay in a slump against the wall,
Fast asleep upon the concrete with nowhere else to go,
The churchman opened the door and said hello,
“Hi, if you can sign this real quick please?” handing him a pen and receipt,
“Sure, here’s your tip” couple bucks stashed in my pocket real quick,
As the pizza exchanged hands the sleeping man awoke and emit an energy so strange,
Bewildered and exhausted to say the least, missing a shoe from one of his feet,
My heartstrings tugged as I could feel the aura of another human being,
A living breathing soul in a harsh moment of reality,
Im a poet I could have offered him a few words of relief,
Instead I turned to speedwalk to where I was parked,
I was three steps away when a soft, dry voice croaked “hey do you know what time it is?”
I stopped and said “Yeah its uhh…5:50”
“AM or PM?”
“5:50 PM”
“Thanks”
Maybe thats all the universe put me there in that moment to tell him.
Author trevorquint
Champion
Every month is a different journey,
2 weeks ago my vision was blurry and I let it discourage me,
I stuck to my processes and pushed myself forward till I reached a new mountain peak,
Trials and tribulations form the steps beneath my feet,
A breeze among my stance because I forged my way to victory,
Adapt and overcome,
I would never allow myself to suffer defeat from my adversities,
I’m a Champion,
Just take a look at the proof you see,
Rise and fall I might evolve into a greater beast than I truly can believe,
Refocus my optical to take my shots at some greater things,
The world is my canvas and my actions are living poetry,
Ideas are nothing but speculations if I never find the ways to make them breathe,
So I’ll continue to dream wide awake until ally my seeds grow to trees.
Ups & Downs
Ups & Downs, Highs & Lows:
What I need right now is just my middle road,
Chaotic or somber either way I feel a bit out of control,
The ups & downs seem so incalculable,
When I’m up I’m a shining star: LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!
Burning like an endless coal,
I become a freight train with the motivation to accomplish any goal,
That “on top of the world” feeling
where there’s static among my aura if you stand too close,
But even so
I feel it slip away like the curtains close,
and when I’m down I grab some booze and become a restless ghost,
Gone to the world like a comatose,
I watch the phone buzz off my desk and my inbox of unanswered messages overflows,
Waste a few hours staring out the window while the rain comes and goes,
What I’m searching for is neutrality within the middle road,
That sure-footed, balanced-mind people always talk about
That which I’ve never known.
Hieroglyphs, a short poem of an idea
50 scribbled doodles
To see which were dead and which were still usable,
Stashed in a box with some memoirs to someday place into a time capsule,
The empty vessels that once held the soul of an inksmith’s tools,
When Man has destroyed this world as we know and left it all to ruins,
Someone of a new humanity will find my box of dead pens and wonder the congruence,
Between the language they are common with,
As they behold what is to them some hieroglyphs.
Love lost
She’s gone from me,
She once meant the world to me,
So it’s so hard to believe that she’s dead to me,
Once held her in regards as majesty,
Now what we had is just leftover tragedy,
I feel like a fool for introducing her to my family,
I’m past the grief of having to let go of such travesty,
It’s maddening to think I offered her that spot right next to me,
Just to be given dishonesty and to live in a fantasy,
She knew all along I’d be gone if I knew the truth,
So she fed me just enough white lies so I wouldn’t leave,
Now that love is lost , that ship has sailed across a sea,
Upon a voyage neither of us will ever see.
Portside Sunset
The sun
Setting over the Portside,
Casting hues of purples, oranges and blues over the horizon,
My heart racing as my mind is contemplating my existence and,
Honoring another day’s end,
Some other people standing taking pictures from their perceptions of the best viewing position,
It’s funny the way this occurrence makes so many of us stop in our tracks and say,
“Wow, there it goes, isn’t it so incredible?”
I rarely take pictures anymore because the painting the universe splatters across the sky is so
Unforgettable,
Just for a little while I feel so peaceful and untouchable,
As if even my problems and worries took a minute to appreciate the spectacle.
To me, from me: some words of motivation
The opportunity to succeed is always present in the present moment it’s just a matter of perspective,
Keep opticals directed towards what’s consequentive,
Derivation contemplating that pervasive incentive,
What’s those ideas on your mind during meditation?
Invest in yourself for sake of manifestation,
Turn ideas into visions beyond artistic creation,
Creative conversations and life lessons,
Can’t find balance without accepting some mentors can offer the right perception,
Never be afraid to fail in a forward direction,
Up and over complications until you reach your destination,
What you learn along the path will be your way out of future desolation,
Nothing’s meant to be or guaranteed: except for death,
Nobody knows the true answers to what happens in the next step,
God’s Master Plan doesn’t exist and religions all a front to keep the population in check,
Do your research and learn the truth before you praise some God or the next,
Miracles are just coincidences overvalued by the imagination of one’s head,
The system we live in is flawed, tailored to fit the needs of Corporate Greed,
All that we see is designed for us to be slaves to currency,
Needs of the individual are outweighed by the wants of society,
So I’ll proceed to blaze my own trails and never sit quietly,
Divided away from my strength of will inside of me,
Actions produce results so remember where the focus needs to be,
Reasonably conceivable is all of society’s fallacies,
Anybody can win this game we play it’s just a matter of overcoming the gap between us and false royalties.
A poem about rain
I am the first to fall from the sky,
The one that is never remembered,
The one that blows the horn,
For the army that follows,
I am the one that attacked too soon,
The one that just couldn’t wait.
Sometimes I am the eldest,
Sometimes I am the youngest,
I can be each one in between,
I am indestructible,
I am immortal,
I have splashed in ever lake, stream, river and ocean,
Splattered upon every inch of dry land in every country of every continent,
I have explored every corner of the world,
But I have never been to space,
Your dry clothes are my target,
Your barriers my nemesis,
I am a free spirit,
I am greater than Man,
Add me to the wind and I am deadly,
I am the first to fall from the sky,
The one that lost its patience,
The one that caught your attention,
Behind me follows am army of immortals,
Free falling from dark clouds,
I am but one drop of recycled water,
Run,
Hide,
I have but one mission: To drench everything I touch,To do it again and again is my destiny.
Sands of Time
Late into the night just writing out my mind,
Counting minutes lethargically observing the sands of time,
Slipping down the hourglass; wondering if I’ll ever get it right,
Winter Days killing my motivation while I’m struggling to create something new,
A bitter phase willing my oscillations of manias and depressive grooves,
I’m passing through,
This life searching for ways to align my soul with some sort of congruent truth,
My restless mind might just throw itself for a loop twice as often as you,
People always say “everything works out how it’s meant to be” but
I’m longing for evidence that can offer the proof,
Rhythms of the universe seem to be perpetually shifting whenever I begin to feel an inkling of balance,
Schisms of this unspoken waking dream eventually leave me tense with malice,
Hatred of this never-ending conflict between my practicalities and talents,
My heart shrinks some days in the hideous face of every arrogant challenge,
Trepidations pursue me from all directions,
My confidence wavers as my unsteady hand breezes across paper,
I ask myself “am I a poet or a madman?”
Trevor Quint 