"The truth knocks on the door and you say, 'Go away, I'm looking for the truth,' and so it goes away."

Robert M. Pirsig,

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance


The Door Made of Words


There is this door, I don't know what it's for,

with a sign: "Everything The World Has In Store".

It sounds absurd, but the door's made of words

and other things that are never seen, only heard.

There is no key, since there is nothing to see,

as if they were trying to hide something from me.

No knob or key hole, it's just you and your soul,

to open this door and pass through is the goal.

I must confide, I've heard of the other side,

and the glory found there that forever resides.

The stories are old, they speak not of gold,

but of more beauty than your eyes can hold.

Yet they will preach, that beauty to us each,

is whatever you covet that's just out of reach.

I often hear knocks, and the tumbling of locks,

as if opportunity has turned back the clocks,

with a chance to get out of emotional debt -

this door is the answer to erasing regret.

How to obtain, something chased in vain,

thats very elusive and you can't contain?

Searched since youth, by the best sleuth,

we all try to answer the question of 'truth'.

That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do

(The Door)

Ivan Albright, painted from1931-41


- Philosophical Poetry -

Beyond the Door...


The elusive truth comes to us in many different forms,

somedays it's all roses, while on others it's all thorns.

Everytime you turn around, opportunities at the door,

asking if you will take a risk and sail away from shore.

There might be promises of wealth and beauty up ahead,

or possibly an answer to the question that you dread.

The voyage might not be pretty, trading sun for storm -

the life we live seems as though obstacles are the norm.

Yet always able to make our way, guided by what's right,

forever being thrown off course, distracted by the light,

but somehow finding ourselves on the door's other side,

just to discover there's no answer, only the precious ride.

The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago.

The second best time is now. - African Proverb

The Two Trees


In African rain, on barren plain, a single seed was sown,

a score ago, this plateau bestowed, a tree growing alone.

Strong and tall, from summer to fall, leaves of noble green,

change to golds, as weather colds, as if to crown a Queen.

As years pass, this oaken lass, outlasts drought and storm -

an endless exchange, of season's change, into another form.


But then one day, a seed fell astray, then buried in the earth,

out of the norm, with resilient form, a second tree found birth.

In the cascade, of the older tree's shade, advantageously,

side by side, the sapling hides, and will raise up cautiously.

These two trees, hardened by breeze, and by bending wind,

will forever last, as time shall pass, lest their roots rescind.


Standing there, this branching pair, they overlook all life,

able to see, the scrutiny, of worldly stride and strife.

With thickened skin, and resolve within, growing up and old,

the bigger tree, told her baby, as others' soul's were sold:

"In life you'll find, the very best time, to plant a tree, I vow

Was years ago, but please know, the second best is now."


Now that I've heard, the spoken word, from that taller tree,

I'm finally aware, that growing there, are my mom and me.

The Serengeti Plain, by Amanda Goddard, 2009

"A bend in the road is not the end of the road unless you fail to make the turn." - Author Unknown

The Road to Success...

(When the road does bend, it's not the end that's of concern,

but whether or not you forethought to simply make the turn.)


Fresh out the gate, the path is straight, lost in endless sky,

ups and downs are always found as time goes passing by.

But then a first - your path diverts, off to the left or right,

stay strong, moving along the bumps found in the night.


Softly treading, quietly dreading, the road to the unknown,

full of hope, trying to cope, with that which life has shown.

Stare into the air out there, finding mid-day sun and storm,

wondering why, we laugh and cry, on a journey of reform.


Do you step footprints of regret, to be washed away,

by plain ol' rain, that's looming large and coming out to play?

Or are those strides building blocks of pride, here for years to come,

to forever last, in earthen cast, never to become undone?


Never more, be ever unsure, in decisions that you make,

secret wishing for what's missing, begging for a break.

Losing your mind, just to find, a curve in the road ahead,

don't rush to the end, my eager friend, take it slow instead.



"To get to where you're looking to go,"

the Old Man said with a smile,

"Take either road, the high or the low,

but it's going to take awhile!"

I stared above, then down below,

certain the decision would matter.

"The choice for me, is easy you see,

just choose, the first or the latter!"

I stood staring, as far as can be,

not knowing quite how to begin.

An hour passed, then two, then three,

no closer to the start than the end.

Up popped the Old Man from around the way,

on the other road than he left,

"You haven't moved since the start of the day,

just choose - the right or the left!"

Alone again, Old Man take a bow,

you were right all the way from the start.

I would have seen both roads by now,

if only I could just depart.

Blind Reflections


Who's in charge of this blind man,

whose eyes I'm seeing through?

Ever since his short time began,

I just can't figure out who.


Is it logic, love, or lust

dictating his direction?

Guided by something to trust,

or chasing some affection?


When following his mind's command,

logic sends him on his path,

avoiding what he can't understand,

subject to the others wrath


When following his insatiable loins,

lust fuels him, fast and strong.

Until the prevailing winds adjoin,

he will blindly sail along.


When following his vicious heart,

love pushes all others aside -

he'll fight his way from the start,

until those feelings subside.


A life-long struggle for control:

the mind, heart, and manhood -

sometimes they share the same goal,

working towards a greater good.


It's when one of them runs the whole,

life is quickly mis-understood,

reacting, trying to satisfy the soul,

instead of doing what one should.

Vulneratus Non Victus


Flames arched the sky, and I walked right through it,

it rained 'til it flooded, and then I swam right into it.

There was a hole in my way, but I filled it with earth,

I don't ever give up, I've been determined since birth.

Caged in with brick, many miles thick, tall and wide,

I climbed and I climbed, and I've spied the other side.

Tied up with their ropes, tied down with their chains,

they tried to break me apart, hoping nothing remains.

- but -

I accept any challenge, with clenched teeth and fist,

and I'll dive in head first, you see I just can't resist.

So get out of my way, and get out of my sight,

I'm stronger every day, I put up quite a fight!

Let's see what you've got, you call that adversity?

I don't care if it's a lot, you'll never better me!

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Philospher in Meditation, Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn , 1632