POEM: Too Easy

Too easy to expect respect
When you can’t respect yourself

Too easy to ask for love
When you can’t love yourself

Too easy to blame others
When you can’t forgive yourself

Too easy to treat others
As you would like to be treated yourself

But such is the counsel of fools
We are different
You might hate what I like
I might hate what you like

We are imperfect, flawed
Yet beautiful nonetheless
Mistake will follow on from mistake
Despite our best intentions – our best guess

We might not love ourselves enough
Yet we can talk – converse
And regardless of the pain that comes
Touch that light – that essence between us

We might not learn self-respect
But with eggshells strew the path
Whereon others cut their souls
And leave us facing a lonely hearth

We might not feel we can change
Nor face the hurt – the fear
But if we can learn its shape
We might find it easier to bear

But don’t expect others
To give you
What you cannot
Give yourself.


© Charles Tolman May 2016

POEM: The Ultimate Evil

The divine inner spark
Hidden in the dark
Too easy to bury
Too easy to believe its unworth
It happens all the time

For how many years
Have I listened to my fears.
Crush It
Cover It
Bury It deep
Down in a subterranean hole

Don’t allow people to see
Suppress the childhood glee
Forget that its there
With the help of the external illusion
This buzzing confusion

The man chasing skirt
Covering up
Just how much it truly does hurt
This eternal search
Out there

When all along
The truth is inside
If only I can find
The inner faith
In myself
My Whole self
Push away the fear of

How can I love another
If I don’t even bother
To find me
Then no intimacy there
Nothing inner to share

Its taken me years
To break the cast
And realize at last
Now is the time
To stop the crime
The ultimate evil.

Follow the Blue
The clear of the sky
The light over dark
And see
There – there in the centre
Something clean

A vista before me
That’s really scary
Do I hold that much power?
What if I fail?
Make a fool of myself.
Can I wield such a knife?
In this real jihad – this inner strife.

The fear of getting it wrong
Not being strong
To bear this light
This fire
Is burning me anyway
Threatening to take me entire.

But I cannot sit here!
A shriveling
Its time to find the child
Who is not scared to play
Yes – and get it wrong
For truly
That is where I belong.

© Charles Tolman November 2014

Some new poems

For those who enjoy poetry – and possibly some of the ones I write – I have updated my Poetry page.

Looking back through them though many are from the darker side of life, I think the one I currently feel best about is A Woman in my Arms which I dedicate to the lovely ladies with whom I have had some wonderful tango dances. If you ever make it to this part of the internet, you will know who you are – Thank You.

Other posts are still in the pipeline – till later…