I cut myself...

I cut myself
   and yes I bleed.
But I know it's not
   a lasting deed.
The flesh will heal
   and the pain will steal
   away.

Not so with
   cutting words I hear.
My mind they burn...
   my heart they sear.
They bring their pain
   and then remain
   to stay.

So I see myself
   through darkened eyes.
Shades of truth...
   tints of lies...
All the same,
   inside they came
   to me.

Now time passes
   but yet they thrive.
And in quiet moments
   come alive.
I hear them call,
   and then they're all
   I see.

Seems kind words live,
   but silently.
While the harshest
   cry out endlessly.
First, lying in wait,
   then screaming in hate
   they come.

So, I cut myself
   and yes I bleed.
But there is a point
   to my pointless deed.
Before they take me
   I just want to make me
   numb.

Joseph Weilenbeck 2017
In empathy for all who have been hurt and scarred so deeply by the hateful words of others.

Seems the memories...

Seems the memories
now come, then flee
and disappear
behind the walls
of age and time
and my troubled mind,
no more to hear me when I call.

They show their face
then leave a space,
a void to last
forevermore.
Taking one more part
of my breaking heart,
they turn away
and close the door.

Time now lost,
its drawers all tossed
from searching for
what might remain
of distant places
and forgotten faces,
all washed away
with yesterday's rain.

My book of dreams
and plans and schemes,
it seems is nowhere
to be found.
In the fading light
of the coming night,
it's buried deep
in covered ground.

Joseph Weilenbeck 11/17/2017

This Morning’s Sun Need Ne’er Have Shown

Why do you lie beside me still

    And stir not least upon my touch?
Do you lack strength, or maybe will,
    My trembling hand to even clutch?

Does morning hold no promise bright
    To coax your sleeping eyes awake?
Will they not lift but ever slight,
    In pity, my worst fears to take?

Why do your lips now grow so cold,
    Though bathing in the sun’s warm glow?
Is there not another kiss they hold?
    Nor one more smile for them to show?

Does your heart not have another beat,
    That I could feel upon my own?
If not, ‘tis all of my defeat.
    This morning’s sun need ne’er have shown.

Joseph Weilenbeck December, 1998 
Written in sympathy for a friend - whose husband unexpectedly passed away in their bed one morning

We drive by the flowers...

We drive by the flowers

    Looking through glass,
Missing the essence
    Of all that we pass.

We see only colors
    With no shape or line,
Their beauty and meaning
    Lost to our minds.

O Breath!

O Breath! Why do you despise me so?
That when I bid you come,
You defiantly go

And when, though reluctant, you enter in
You stubbornly refuse
To go out again

Both coming and going, you dig in your heels
And smile at the weakness
You make me feel

O Breath! I beg you, put your fight to rest
And come and go gently
To and from my chest

Joseph Weilenbeck 04/12/2018
On my struggle with COPD

No one to tell me why...

I now lie beneath freshly turned ground
And with eyes sealed shut, I look around
I see the earthworm pass me by
So I ask, but he cannot tell me why

With ears rendered deaf, over the din
Of my now silent voice crying out from within,
I hear a chorus of sprouts as they search for the sky
So I ask, but they cannot tell me why

No one knew why...

I once wrote a song...

    No one knew why
I once wrote a poem...
    No one knew why
I once painted a picture...
    No one knew why
I once shared my dreams...
    No one knew why
I once spoke of great ideas...
    No one knew why
I once lived...
    No one knew why

A poet's words...

A poet's words

scrawled in fading ink

on yellowing pages

Consigned

to an unmarked grave

and forgotten

Guarded by darkness

erased by time

touching no one

Joseph Weilenbeck  04/11/2018