Folcum ParkAs 10,000 evenings fell perfectly in placeTo remind me still of her lovely face,Was when I went down to Folcum ParkAnd tried my best to break my heart.An autumn change began this fearAnd whispered softly in my ear,That fewer feats can be as grandAs the hatred felt by a clever man.On a weathered path near a running drain,By the shallow pond in the pouring rain,Where a moment lost now came to passFrom the borrowed likeness of the pastCame this bare horizon where colors toyed,Beyond the darkness of an endless void.That I knew once crossed there was no return,From the coldest pulse lay the hottest burn.But still I railed against this seaI crossed for you, and I crossed for me.To orbit life on Saturn’s rings,On abandoned shores where the gypsies singTheir songs in measured kilted beats,That lovers yearn from such deceits.Still, I remembered from the startA thousand ways to break my heartAll alone and in the darkAll alone in Folcum Park.
10,000 nights–now all in oneWhile moss had gathered on the stairway stones.And every measured labor felt,Now stripped away my inner selfAnd forged as one in cold persistenceFor love is better at a distance.Like cold to frost or singe to a burn—This was the hardest lesson learned.That eager hearts make lovely meals–So I cut myself quite a deal.To bring this forward to an endFrom harms no human hand could mend.And buried it in hallowed groundsForever lost and never found.And wrote them on my bed room wallsStolen meanings from bathroom stallsThat spoke of losses and past defeatsIn foreign tongues on noble feats.That I had passed from this sole embraceAs I walked away from the human race.So in Folcum Park I broke my heart,10,000 times in 10,000 parts.Copyright © 2016 by John Snowdon
Daily Archives: April 25, 2016
I was shocked, confused, bewildered
as I entered Heaven’s door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
by the lights or its decor.
But it was the folks in Heaven
who made me sputter and gasp–
the thieves, the liars, the sinners,
the alcoholics, the trash.
There stood the kid from seventh grade
who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
who never said anything nice.
Herb, who I always thought
was rotting away in hell,
was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
looking incredibly well.
I nudged Jesus, “What’s the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How’d all these sinners get up here?
God must’ve made a mistake.
And why’s everyone so quiet,
so somber? Give me a clue.”
“Hush, child,” said He “They’re all in shock.
No one thought they’d see you.”
(Though possibly written by either the worst sinner or
the most thankful person in heaven, or both!)
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