More Poems

That Song – by Eric Hall 06-09-09

Memories flood into my mind

Memories of all different kinds

Some I know, some I wish not

But these are the mem’ries that I’ve got

When I hear that song I see that door

To that room on the second floor

The room I was there all by myself

Seemingly set up on the shelf

I see me ride through town

Riding up hill and then down

I see my tears come down my cheek

As answers to uncertainty I seek

Memories flood into my mind

Memories of all different kinds

Some I know, some I wish not

But these are mem’ries that I’ve got

When I hear that song I see myself

My brother and I in our seat belts

Driving just us in the car

Not really going far

I see us talking, laughing too

About things done and things to do

I see our lives not really rushed

The brotherly love and the trust

Memories flood into my mind

Memories of all different kinds

Some I know, some I wish not

But these are mem’ries that I’ve got

When I hear that song I see

A young man thinking, that is me

I sit alone in the downstairs

My mind is going I don’t know where

We are here, my brother is there

I see my mom and father there

In that hospital somewhere else

I’m left, my siblings and my self

Memories flood into my mind

Memories of all different kinds

Some I know, some I wish not

But these are mem’ries that I’ve got

When I hear that song I see her there

This one girl that for her I used to care

But God had different plans for me

He changed both our life's plans you see

I see us there just us in love

Thinking that this was from above

But now we're parted; t'was for the best

In His plan just like all the rest

Memories flood into my mind

Memories of all different kinds

Some I know, some I wish not

But these are mem’ries that I’ve got

You Be the One – by Eric Hall (11-22-08)

I want you to be the one to capture my attention;

I want your gaze to be one that is my retention;

I want you to be the one who in I will confide;

I want you to be the one that I find by my side.

You are the one I want to be

The one who I always see,

And can say that you’re mine;

And I in turn am thine

You are the one I want to be

The one who always comes to me,

And I will go to you,

When I want to be there too.

I want your voice to be the one that I always hear;

I want your presence to be the one that I always feel near;

I want you to be the one who loves me wholly,

And I want you to be the one that I love fully.

You are the one I want to be

That one that means the world to me,

And can see you are there,

And that you truly care.

You are the one I want to be

The one that I love completely,

And know you love me;

Your love I can see.

I want your hand to be the one that I seek,

And the hand that lifts me when I am weak;

I want your love to uphold me consistent,

And my affection for you to be persistent.

You are the one I want to be;

You are the only one I see,

The only one I wish will be

Everything, and more, to me.

The Good Ole Days – by Eric Hall (11-19-08)

The “good old days” are long behind,

They’ve faded to the past;

But they still echo in my mind,

And there they’ll always last.

Memories of times gone by

Come every now and then;

That’s when I have to smile,

And thank God for all my friends.

Life or Death? – By Eric Hall (11-15-08)

The gun rests gently ‘gainst my head

And I know that in moments I could be dead

The tears run down my fearful face

As my heart builds upon it’s quickening pace

Thoughts of life run through my mind

Thoughts of every different kind

About joy, happiness, pain, and sorrow

About today, yesterday, and tomorrow

Of things I’ve done and wished I had

Of my siblings, and my mom and dad

Mem’ries of friends, both old and new

And memories of lost loved ones too

I never thought it’d end this way

I never thought I’d see this day

I had heard of this from the TV

I would never see this happ’ning to me

But then, the Bible flashes through

And verses that I once knew

And God’s love for me comes clear

Now, in this moment, standing here

I cry out loud for Him to save

I know that Him my sin forgave

I know that He alone is there

And know if no one else, He cares

The weapons lowers, as tears still run

I turn and I now see the gun

Then look toward heaven as I stand

And drop the pistol from my own hand

(Please note that I had no suicidal actions (or thoughts for that matter) in my life ever! Why I wrote this poem?….I have no idea…)

Poetry - by Eric Hall (11-08-08)

Keeping time
Making rhyme
It all can be such fun
But then again
Now and then
It seemingly can’t be done

Writing lines
Of different kinds
And making them as one
Clumping words
In tiny herds
As I said, can be fun

Hearing rhymes
Many times
Can give a little tickle
But making them
And shaping them
Can sometimes be a pickle

See just there
That can’t be fair
The last lines don’t quite rhyme
Though I suppose
It almost goes
I’ll maybe try harder next time

So there it be
Yes, poetry
Explained from my view
Yet Saying it
And displaying it
Is easier to say than to do

Dreams – by Eric Hall (11-08-08)

I’ve been to places very far

Whose names I do not know

I’m not even sure where they are

But I’ve been to them I know

I’ve seen things I’ve ne’er before

Laid eyes on in this world

But I’m sure they’re there, I’ve swore

Before me they unfurled

I’ve done things I ‘fore could not

Things impossible to me

These things I have not done a lot

Just now and then you see

All these question in my mind

Unanswered they may seem

However, all the answers I can find

Just look through all my dreams

Winter - by Eric Hall (11-08-08)

The snow falls,
The last geese call,
As to the south they pass;
The air chills,
The water stills,
And turns to icy glass.

The sun comes bright
And what a sight
The sun upon the trees
The ice-topped branch
A second glance
To take in what I see

The autumn fades
As in the glades
White powder tops the grass
All around
Upon the ground
Snow glistens as broken glass

The beauty shows
As it snows
And as the winter stays
Though it’s cold
Bleak I’m told
It’s beautiful anyway

Sleeping 101 – by Eric Hall (10-27-08)

I sit now in my final class, and I am getting sleepy
The professor talks about the paper, and I think it’s creepy
I look down at the text before me, and all becomes a blur
My mind is telling me to rest, and my body starts to concur

My head dips slightly, as I sit, and fight the coming nap
My friend beside me sees me now, and gives a little snap
I sit back up, and look once more, at the man who talks down front
But I find his topic boring – sorry, but I will be blunt

My head decides to tip once more, and rest comes on again
But again I’m thankful for the care of my next seat friend
He sees me drifting one more time, and gives a little nudge
I flinch, and feel a little pain, but I won’t hold a grudge

I focus now upon the prof as he continues to speak
Temptation to dream hits me again, and my defense is coming weak
I let me head bob yet again, and slowly start to fall
My friend takes out his phone, and my number tries to call

My phone goes off, and I bolt up, digging for my cell
I hope the teacher doesn’t hear, or whose phone cannot tell
I find it quick and turn if off, and I glance over at my friend
I’m thankful that he kept me up, but don't want that again

And yet again, I try to follow the slides the teacher uses
I try to convince myself I’m awake, but my body still refuses
My head flops down upon the desk, and makes a little thud
I catch a vague smirking sound, and know that it’s my bud

My mind drifts off to somewhere else, and I am now alone
I’m walking down a long, dirt road, or sitting now at home
Maybe I’m flying in a plane, or laying in the grass
My mind is anywhere by now, but it’s surely not in class

The Bible - boring? Think again!

So whoever says that the Bible is boring has not taken time to read it lately....

Hebrews 11:33-38: "Who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions. Quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again: and others were tortured, not accepting deliverance; that they might obtain a better resurrection: And others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonment: They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted, tormented; (Of whom the world was not worthy:) they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth."

One might ask, but is all that really in the Bible? YES! The Bible is a history book, a mystery, a romance novel, an action thriller, a drama, and so much more - all between two covers! Who could ask for a more exciting book??

Prose

Another random excerpt...though this is the whole story...in one excerpt...

The black space marker blinks in silence, as he stares at the screen. His mind is running in so many directions, and yet going nowhere: both at the same time. He thinks, and thinks some more, but still comes up with a blank, white page, and a silently blinking space marker. The dream of writing something worth reading takes a nosedive and crashes into the whiteness on the screen. Thoughts of failure mix with attempts to discover a breakthrough in the search for a writable work, creating a bigger gap in his mind. Suddenly he realizes what is happening to him. The blank mind, the white page, the blinking space marker…these are all symptoms of a writer's nightmare! The one things that writer's fear…writer's block!

Summer '07

Stories in the Night's Darkness: Down the hall, into the night...

I walk down the hallway, turning off the lights as I get halfway down. The second half of the journey I make in the almost complete darkness. There is light yet from the adjoining hallway where I need to go. I get there in one piece (not that I expect otherwise) and make my way to the light switch in that hallway: again it sits in the middle. Next to the light switch are the double glass doors that I look out of as I pass. The darkness I create with the flip of the switch is lit by the security light outside streaming through the glass. I open the double metal doors that are now in front of me ending the second hallway. One more hallway to traverse and I will arrive at my room. I need sleep. Six hours is not nearly enough, though it is worth it seeing as I get to talk to my best friend every night. Making my way through the door, I stand at the end of the hallway, and gaze down it. My room sits about three quarters of the way down. The light switch is next to me on the wall. I put my hand to it and push it down. The lights go out and I now stand once again in almost complete darkness. I begin to make my way slowly down the dark passage, passing the other rooms that occupy the hallway. I stop. Gazing down at the other end of the hallway, I spy something unusual. Could it be a person? It appears to be so, the dark silhouette is illuminated by the security light outside the doors at the far end; the windows in the metal doors, the windows that only sit at the top half let in just enough light to enlighten the dark figure's contour. I think it’s a man: he wears a hat (like the type worn by Indiana Jones). I know because I can see it within his darkened outline. He just stands there, watching me slowly tread on the cold tile floors of this hall. I glance away from him for a second, looking into one of the dark rooms beside mine. As I reach for the door handle to my room (I get to it within seconds of when I began down the way), I peek back toward the man’s silhouette, and find yet another surprise. Where the man had stood, he is now gone, and in his place stands a small girl. Her head barely illuminated by the moonlight through the windows, and yet she is there - I can see her shadowy figure. She too just stands watching me silently. I debate with myself briefly about whether or not I should go speak to her, but sleep comes back to mind, and I slowly turn the handle of my room’s door. I slide the door open, and take one last glance to the end of the hall, where I see nothing but an empty space in front of closed doors. I smile to myself, wondering if the two figures were really ever there. I decide they were not, close the door, and climb into my bed. ‘Good night,’ I whisper to the darkness. ‘Good night,’ the darkness whispers back, ‘we’ll see you tomorrow.’

(note: the above story, though it seems random, is actually all true, except for the "darkness" replying. This actually happened to me almost every night when I was working down in North Carolina in the summer of 2007).

Stories in the Night’s Darkness: Hide and Seek with the Noises

The conversation being ended, I put the phone back on the receiver, closed the current windows on my screen, and shut down my computer. I was tired, and anxiously awaiting the softness of my pillow, the warmth of the blankets, the silence of the swiftly passing night. Making my way down the connected hallways, I finally get to the room. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I give it a turn – but am stopped by a noise from behind me. I turn, and look through the room across from my room, into the adjoining room beyond – the gymnasium (the building I was in used to be a school, and was transformed into a Bible curriculum company that used the gym for a warehouse). All was dark in these rooms. Using my imagination, though using it involuntarily, I suddenly believed that maybe someone has broke in to kill me (or something crazy like that). Ducking into my room – this I did quietly so as not to wake up my dad who had already been sleeping for a few hours – I located the aluminum bat in the corner behind the door, and my dad’s mag light on the dresser. Creeping across the hall, and through the room that sat there, I stealthily slipped into the gymnasium. The layout of the room, massive shelves that reached almost to the tall ceiling packed with heavy boxes, would give perfect cover for an intruder. Also, the balcony above my head would provide hiding places as well, as it was littered with boxes and things. Turning on the mag light, I began my search. I started with the main floor, planning to move to the balcony next. Small noises echoed around me, some obviously from outside, and others from somewhere in between – I couldn’t tell if they were outside, or in the room with me. Feeling the imminency of an attacker, I kept focus on the revelations of the flashlights beam. Peering through the gaps between boxes, and in between the shelves themselves, I could not find anything that looked like a person. There was no intruder on the main floor - that I was now sure of. Presently at the back of the room, farthest from the balcony, I turned and looked back towards it. Imagination kept spinning as the small noises continued to echo in my mind, and in the gym. Silently walking to one of the two staircases leading to the veranda (one sat at either end), I kept my eyes at the top as I ascended. My mind raced as I reached the top looking into the piles of boxes and books and miscellaneous materials. Almost done with my search of the balcony, I was about to give up, when I was halted by a terrible discovery. A door, which sat at the back wall of the balcony, was open. That would not have been unusual except that the door was always closed. I had been up on this balcony before (during the day), and that door was shut each time. I hesitated, sensing the danger that I was now facing. What if there was someone in there, what would I do? This question flooded my mind unceasingly as I inched toward the open door. Reaching it, I debated once more before going inside the doorway. Taking a silent deep breath, I poked my head inside the opening. Plunging the flashlight in, I scanned the small room that the door normally concealed. Suddenly, I made another discovery – the room was empty. Sighing with relief, I made my way back down the stairs to the gym’s main floor. I made one last sweep of the room with my light before turning to head to bed. I concluded that the noises I heard came from pesky critters on the gymnasium roof. However, if there was an intruder in the building, I wouldn’t be finding them tonight.

(yes, this is another true story...random, but true nonetheless...nights were interesting in that school turned Bible curriculum distribution company).