Island of Lost Faces

~ Claude Limehouse ~ Leave a comment

Wander through the lonely spaces,
On the Island of Lost Faces,
Feelings surface that you can’t ignore.

Often only tiny traces,
Showing up in obscure places,
Memories of those you knew before.

Way back when, do you remember?
Starting high school in September,
She walks in and your heart skips a beat.

How she’s grown over the summer,
Clearly now an up and comer,
She glances at you as she takes her seat.

You somehow don’t know what to say,
Another glance is thrown your way,
Your mouth is dry, your head has beads of sweat.

She turns and smiles and looks your way,
Then you hear her softly say,
“This class is bad, how boring can it get?”

You search for words and force a smile,
Dying inside all the while,
Hoping for a way to make it fly.

All at once you start to mumble,
Words get stuck, thoughts are jumbled,
She just smiles and feeds off your reply.

You make a statement so profound,
Reflecting on the world around,
She simply nods and makes you feel ok.

That’s the signal you’ve been needing,
Eyes connect and hers are pleading,
Finally it’s time to make your play.

Two as one, the warm embraces,
On the Island of Lost Faces,
Feel the gentle stirring in your soul.

Often only tiny traces,
Reaching out from lonely places,
Living fantasies will take its toll.

Suddenly it feels so crazy,
Stomach churns, eyes get hazy,
How can days gone by cause such a stir?

Simply it’s a natural yearning,
Growing old but never learning,
Things can never be just as they were.

Wandering the lonely spaces,
On the Island of Lost Faces,
Memories of those you’ve known before.

Those fleeting looks over the shoulder,
Intense looks that made you bolder,
Are merely lessons from a life before.

Brothers

~ Claude Limehouse ~ Leave a comment

Put myself in a difficult situation once. I pushed my son. Well, in fact, I shoved him or at least tried to. He didn’t move much but the intent from me was clear. I lost control of my temper.

It was over nothing really. It was the basic 13 year old attitude. The to-be-expected sarcastic backtalk, pushing the limits, testing perhaps how far he could push. He pushed too far, I mishandled it and pushed back…. literally.

The physical push itself wasn’t a big deal but was symbolic of one. Clearly I handled it poorly.

Here’s the interesting part though. It was a real issue for his brothers. It seriously impacted them as well. They became very angry with me and they let me know it.

The youngest said to me, “I don’t like it when you push Steve!” There were tears in his eyes. The oldest, who tended to internalize, slammed doors and went outside with a basketball by himself. This was rare.

It was clearly a united front among brothers and was pretty cool to see. I hated what I did but respected the response immensely.

When I was a kid and one of us got hit by Dad, we would scatter, hide and later test to be sure we were still on his good side. It was every man for himself.

Not these brothers though. All for one and one for all. That’s not something, I think, you encounter too often. I liked it.

It all worked out and I learned a very big lesson. With these brothers, there is no fear factor when it comes to violence. Thanks for the education gentlemen.

#Thoughts

Thank You

~ Claude Limehouse ~ Leave a comment

Confusion fills a joyful life,
With things I can’t control;
Assistance from my loving wife,
Guides me from that hole.

I’m a mess, I must confess,
I try to make it right;
But demons hidden deep within,
Control my simple life.

I do not have the problems now,
That many people do;
I’m speaking of real drama,
That somehow they get through.

It’s little things that clean my clock and kill a perfect day;
It’s things that any normal guy would simply swat away.

It comes without a moment’s note,
It hits me like a flash;
A hard left hook that hits the mark and leaves an open gash.

Then I react, without the tact,
I’m shooting from the hip;
Automatic defense skills that lash out from my lips.

I carve with tongue, at lightening speed,
It comes from deep within;
If she’s not there to help me then,
My head just starts to spin.

Somehow she finds a way each time to soothe my aching soul,
It must be such a burden to assist my self control.

At times it drives her crazy,
At times it flat out burns;
Not that I can blame her but each time it helps me learn.

I’ve learned that it is selfish to impart this on my wife,
I’ve learned that she was brought to me to help me in my life.

But what of her, I must infer that she has demons too,
Am I there enough for her? Enough to guide her through?

As a man, I hope I am, I hope that she can see,
The love I have for who she is,
Helps both her and me.

I hope that she can understand that she’s my simple life,
My world would simply self destruct if she were not my wife.

#Poetry