The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone

Thursday, January 11, 2024

All In The Game

Wednesday, January 3, 2024

Living Inside My Head a poem for the saddest man I know

Living Inside My Head

(poem from a lonely man)

My imagination runs wild sometimes and sometimes I reign it in
My mind goes off into the great unknown, seeking the great unseen
And looking for the great unfound to bring it home to the great unloved
Which is me, but then you don’t know that because you don’t know me.

So, I’ll tell you a little about myself here and now while you’re reading this poem
About me, written by me and for me and to me and because of me
I live inside my head. I mean to say, I live in my dreams and not in reality
I read books and I go to plays and I watch t.v. and I attend movies and I….....

I pretend that they’re about me. I read poetry and I tell myself that
The poems are written to me and about me (and most of them are)
Especially the melancholy ones, the sad stories, the lamentations and such
I read the poetry and I cry because the words are so beautiful, you know? And true.

I love Shakespeare. I love his way with language. I love his metaphors
His imagery, his sharp wit and rapier tongued heroines and heroes
I love his world of flowery prose and macabre, dark death scenes
His tragedy and triumph, pleasure and pain, heartbreak and true love found.

I’d love to live within those pages and act out those scenes that I love,
That I have memorized and quoted and shared with only a few
Books are like beloved friends to me and more precious than I can tell
They never hurt me except when I want to be hurt in their reading.

They never change, their plots stay the same, their dialogues comfort me
But they cannot hold me. Or kiss me. Or love me the way I need to be loved
They can only tell me of how how it feels or sounds or smells or tastes
And they make me feel even lonelier when I finish the pages and put them away.

I walk down the city streets and I see life going on all around me
And I die inside myself. I bleed. From wounds no one else can see
Nevertheless, I bleed and doctor myself the best I can
And put on a brave face and laugh
And do what I have to do the best way I know how, the only way I can.

Living inside my head, dreaming within my heart,
Waiting for God to bless me
With love and joy and dances in the dark.
Poetry in someone’s eyes. And reality
I have big dreams, I do. Wild, incredible, fantastic things that I want to do
With someone walking by my side, dreaming the same dream
Wanting the same things that I want.

Someone that knows how to pull this stuff out of me
And make it real and wonderful and do-able. Do-able.
What an incredible word! Do-able. Existing in real life and not just in fantasy
The way it has always been for me.
Cause there’s never been a hand in my hand
Showing me the way.

I’m tired of living inside my head, loving inside my dreams,
Existing inside a book
I want to live outside of me and what I can imagine and wish. I want to live!
Damn it! I want to live! But you don’t know that about me, do you?
You see this blank face and this placid exterior
And you think I’m just an average Joe.

But you don’t know. You have no idea the wild man I am inside
The crazy lunatic I’d like to show you
Without driving you away wide eyed in terror
The truth now: the real me, coming up, served barefaced and open
My guts hanging out and my heart exposed
And my soul longing for solace in your hands………

The lover, the poet, the warrior, the dreamer
The maker of dreams come true
I’m showing you myself, you’re reading my heart
I want to live. With you.

©By Voo
May 23, 2004
8 p.m.

An absolutely true story gleaned from the soul of someone who
is like the dog that chases the car and doesn't know what to do
with it once he gets it................sigh

Please Come to Boston

by Dave Loggins

Saturday, December 30, 2023

I've Heard It Said

I've Heard It Said

I've heard it said

So it must be so

That life is filled

With high and low

I've heard it said

Most of my days

That man is given

To sinful ways

And so he is

And so are we

But long from that

To be set free

I've heard it said

By pen and tongue

That men pursue

While we belong

To love, belonging

Is a female trait

Though by love, rejected

Is a female fate

There are those that object

And those lines, must reverse

That the female is foolish

And to love her, a curse

And it's true there are those

To this gender I'm born

That instead of the rose

In their hearts grow the thorn

But in my heart, grows love

Though it's withered by lack

And grown tired of giving

With no love given back

But I've heard it said

If you plant love like seed

That in Heaven you'll find

All that you'll ever need

And I believe that is true

Though in life there's a dearth

I just wish we could all find

Some of that love on Earth.

©by Voo Shining Stone

Dec 30, 2023

Friday, December 29, 2023

Figuring Things Out and the song of my childhood

WildFire
by Michael Martin Murphy

Figuring Things Out

I don't know why this song
always touched something
deep inside my soul
It made me think of myself
and I always wondered who had written my story
Cause nobody knew me!
Listening to the song,
I saw myself riding that pony, WildFire
and
dying in the winter
like I'd been born

I had my own pony named FireBird
who ran like the wind
and was colored bright red and white
He was my best friend, my only friend
And when I rode on his back
I believed I could fly

I was a lonely child
Talking to owls and animals
Like people
and thinking I was going to die
still a child
Because
I didn't want to live
to be an adult
If life as it was
Would continue to be
Life as it was

WildFire was the fantasy
and
FireBird was the real
but as for me
I've never known......
if I was real or not