Growing Pains – A Poem


Growing Pains – A Poem

Why are these dreams that stretch out across my heart’s field of desire,
That glisten Like droplets of drew sparkling on the morning grass,
So hard to obtain, so hard to take to take hold of,
And so hard to lasso and pull close to reality?
The burden is bearing the tragedy of it all,
Knowing what you want, what you need,
Lies just beyond the forest and through the trees,
But you seem unable to put those desires into action.
So often I’m fixated on distractions that pull me off-course,
And get me lost on side paths instead of trekking onward
Towards goals, aspirations, and destinations.
It drives a person mad, carrying around bags of frustrations,
Grueling through labor day after day,
Counting the minutes, knowing there has to be another way.
But the Way is left without footprints, often prepared for
But never ventured and what’s left of hope slowly fades away.
There’s a demon inside of me that seems unable to be controlled,
Scoffing at dreams, content to let life pass me by,
Trampling on schedules, and consistently cursing meaningful causes.
Claws strike out at my fingers each time
I reach out to grasp my true potential.
I now know the paved road to success doesn’t exist.
You must venture through the dense forest,
Fight through the clinging vines, and thrash through the sticks.
No, to journey with intention is no vacation,
And the mess inside me, always attempting to misguide me, is no easy fix.
But the trail to nowhere is covered by countless footprints
And paved with the trampled dreams others have left behind.
The alarm clock beckons.
Wisdom speaks.
My souls shrieks.
But for some reason I have yet to understand,
I hear, but refuse to listen.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

photo credit: After the rainfall via photopin (license)

Second Star To The Right – A Poem About Losing Childhood Innocence


Second Star To The Right – A Poem About Losing Childhood Innocence

My sanctuary of sanity
Dresses in new robes everyday.
Joyfully furnishing new rooms of solitude
Only to find the door locked the very next day.

The storm clouds gather, grow like weeds –
Stubborn and unable to be wrought out.
Their rains fueling, feeding the pain
And ensuring the sun’s rays are forever shut out.

Time is like a wagon wheel, spinning on an axle
Moving faster with every step I take.
Youth becoming a long, lost memory
But a destination my heart can’t seem to shake.

I remember the smell of fresh magic that hung heavy on the air
And its breath scattering seeds of imagination with the breeze.
Playful, not paralyzed by the clenching grip of reality,
Lost in imaginary battles and climbing high to the tops of trees.

But the roots of innocence were poisoned –
Decayed into fragments of nothingness years ago.
Left only a restless, aching heart
And a mind hinged on worldly woes.

Where do we go to find the fairy tales,
The myths, the fables that sowed towering dreams
Now that the reality of fate is unveiled
And the threads of time are splitting at the seams?

Is there a place for a Lost Boy
Living among grown up dreams?
Has my trip to Neverland been permanently delayed?
For the second star to the right can no longer be seen.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

Coming of Age – A Poem About Growing Up


Coming of Age – A Poem About Growing Up

I walk alone down the streets of time,
Constantly searching, yearning for a home I can call mine.
But the migrant bustle, hustle through the downtown streets
Makes it nearly impossible, a distant and unattainable feat.
Who are these faces that stare back at me?
Why do they appear so alive, and I so empty?
Is it that I am merely conscious of the severity of life’s sting,
Or have they somehow found their way out of winter and into the arms of spring?
I find it quite confusing, amusing really that they walk without care,
And I like Sisyphus walking up a hill with a stone I’m unable to bear.
Are the bonds of madness merely my sole curse?
Am I the only one constantly searching for an eternal hearth?
Conformity seems unobtainable, office mingling out of my grasp.
But they seem to show up day after day with only a sigh and a laugh.
Yet, I seem trapped, walking free yet still wandering down death row
Like a rose planted upon pavement, unable to grow.
What is this depth of despair that crushes my hope for tomorrow,
Not fully submerged in depression, but surely wallowing in sorrow?
A fading memory still remains tucked away in the back of my mind
Of childhood dreaming where the gears stood motionless upon the hands of time.
And now where do I run to without the magic of youth?
I simply spend my days wrestling with relativity, searching for eternal truth.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

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photo credit: 2009 01 20 – 0730 – Washington DC – Maine Ave under RR Bridge via photopin (license)

The River


Driven by the forces of the river.
Drifting through the bends.
Destined to be deposited into
the vast, open sea where uncertainty begins.

A longing makes its lodging deep inside,
afraid of where I’m going,
longing for what I’m leaving behind.

I call out,
“River, stop this instant.
Throw me upon your banks.
March me back upstream
where I hadn’t the slightest clue
I was drifting away.”

But the river refuses to yield.
Gone are the comforts of forest and field,
with treetop blankets and grassy meadows
to hide me beneath their shield.

The river continues to lead me
down the winding bends,
where it’s led countless before me
and where it’ll lead countless others
time and time again.

But that is not my concern.
I want off this flume boat ride,
Everyday my heart yearns
to be free from the forces of the tide
And able to call my own shots,
free from the ever-approaching
ticking of the clock.

Instead of enjoying my time,
grateful for the opportunity
to lounge upon the river
and gaze upon the beauty it winds me through,
I fight, cuss, and use up all my might,
hoping to be delivered,
straining with every ounce of energy
to make it back upstream.

But my tries are futile.
I notice how much farther I’ve floated
down the river, but experienced nothing.
Beauty has passed me by –
my eyes so fixated on the past,
that I’ve been oblivious to the present.

I resent you, despise why you
have to move so fast,
why you leave me bound like a ship-wrecked sailor,
clutching to a weak, weathered raft.

As much as I try,
you never seem to dry up,
but keep pushing me on by
the people, places, and memories
I want to sit with and visit awhile.

And sing with together to the beauty of a song.
But before we even get to the first chorus,
I look up and notice they’re all gone.

River, if only I could become oblivious
to where you’re leading me.
If only I didn’t feel the vastness
of the mysterious sea
surging in your every move.

Maybe then I could appreciate the ride.
Maybe then I could notice the beauty around me,
instead of clinging to the realization
that I’m going to die.

But I do know your destination
and that changes everything.
I can’t divert my eyes
or distract my mind from the truth –
my heart beats every moment,
silently searching for the fountain of youth.


Photo Credit: joncandy via Compfight cc