MY LIFE

Looking through my life,
As in a crystal ball,
I'm glad to have felt
As never felt at all.

For having lived I've learned
Greater joys and sorrows,
Without either of these
There would be no more tomorrows.

For all the times that are bad
There are better times to look for,
And all the hurt you've felt
Will fill up with love twice more.

Let your feelings out
Let the world know how you feel,
Be a total person
Be always fully real.

The picture above is a clip from a video taken 11 years ago at the Wichita airport. The little boy on the left is my oldest grandson, we haven't a clue who the little girl is. While waiting for a plane to come in my 3 year old grandson walked over to the little girl looking out at the planes and stood beside her with his arm around her. They stood there for quite some time. So very cute.

SHADOW

I am no longer here
My shadow is all that remains,
I have held a tear
Of which I fear, no more
Shall I refrain.

The shadow's there--
but cannot speak,
It's musty and cold
And very meek.

But it, too, will die
By and by when the
Sun comes out into the sky.

When...

Often inspiration strikes in the most unlikely places. When this happens you grab the nearest piece of paper you can find to write on. Here are a couple of napkins that survived the years till I was able to scan them...

When the only flower left is a plastic one; Then will man break down and cry for the destruction civilization has caused. But he will continue till he has nothing but himself to destroy, and he will die.

When all is peace and love . . .
. . . the wind will be able to blow freely.
. . . Mother Nature will prosper.
. . . the world will be in the beginning of the end.

BARREN

Upon a hill stands a tree
My husband planted there,
Representing the child
That I could not bear.

From a tiny seedling
The tree grew strong and tall,
Braving all the seasons
Summer, winter, spring, and fall.

To the hill he'd go each day
To gaze upon that tree,
From one branch he hung a swing
For his child that would not be.

In it's shade he'd sit and dream
For many hours every day,
He'd envision the children we couldn't have
As they might romp and play.

I watched him grow old with the tree
And saw the emptiness in his soul,
It was I who made him that way
His happiness I had stole.

Twas a cool summers eve neath the tree he sat
His thoughts with the children at play,
God saw fit to take my man
To his playground far away.

There neath that tree stands a stone
The epitaph of a childless man,
"This tree is my child, my love and my life,
Eternally it shall stand."

RIVER OF LIFE

Running, flowing, never stopping. Starting as a trickle, joining other trickles, becoming a stream. Stream joining other streams pushing its way through rocks, mud, sand, and plants. Becoming a mighty, strong, widening river. Picking up pebbles along its way, tossing them, turning them, playing with them, and then dropping them off further down and forgetting them. Rains fall into it and join as one with it. Heat evaporates it and takes part of it away. Ever flowing, ever changing, never passing the same way, twice, never regretting having been there.

The photo is a clip taken from a video that I took on a 1998 trip to Portland OR for a family reunion. We went sightseeing along the Columbia River and walked in to see several of the many falls. It's all very beautiful and well worth the visit if you ever get the chance.

CANDLE OF LOVE

Melting, dripping, running, hardening.

Forming running, escaping designs as it flows.

Remelting, dripping, running further, hardening.

Flame flickering chasing it farther,

no escape till the flame dies.

Turbulence makes the flame flicker harder and burn faster.

Calm creates a steady fire burning slower,

and shining brighter, less melting, dripping, running,
hardening.

-

-

Candle drawn in Corel Essentials using my Wacom Intuos tablet.

SHADOW OF A SHADOW

Fluorescent flower painted of a shadow.
Flower dying slowly, uprooted from the ground,
Once living, growing, blooming, dropping seeds, and replanting. Uprooted it lives only to die without rebirth,
The flower dies and becomes only a shadow of the shadow on the wall.

This prose describes something that I actually experienced. As a teenager my mother allowed me to paint on the basement walls where my bedroom was located. Her reasoning was that my father would get tired of the things that I painted on the walls and then he'd be motivated to fix up the basement. That backfired when I painted a larger than life arm of Jesus nailed to the cross with the "Judge not..." verses calligraphied beneath. Anyway, I digress; one day I was given a carnation which I placed in a vase and set on the table by my bed. The flower cast a shadow on the wall and with fluorescent paints in hand and nothing else to do I painted the shadow of the carnation on the wall in bright vibrant colors. Days later I had forgotten all about the flower and the painting till I turned on my black light, turned off the overhead and there on the wall by my bed the shadow of the flower burst to life as the real flower drooped dark and dead, now nothing more than a shadow of the painting. It was quite amazing, really.

FATE

My name is Fate
I live on the wind,
No one's my enemy
Everyone's my friend.

No ties or bonds
To hold me fast,
I do not worry
About the future or past.

I walk in the forest
And dance in the springs,
I live in the flowers
And ride on butterfly wings.

No storm can stop me
No fence can keep me in,
For I am Fate
And I live on the wind.

Nude

Nude sketch, charcoal pencil

SHE

She was born in the heart of the forest,
Pure as the heavens was she,
Gentleness was her nature
She loved all that was free.

Her life was simple and happy,
It was all that life should be,
Joys she saw in little things
Most people will never see.

She was poor and never knew
For life held many joys,
She had love you can't replace
With a bedroom full of toys.

She gave to all that she met
This love she had to give,
To make this world a happy place
For everyone to live.

WORLD AND LOVE

How can I live
In a world without love?
I give all I can,
With help from above.

With men overseas
Who are willing to die,
How can we sit around
And watch time fly by?

They know what it is
To love their land,
To show love
And give a helping hand.

We must live each day
One by one,
And show each father
How to love his son.

Put each family
Where they belong,
With alot of love
It can't go wrong.

But I guess for now,
I’ll live as I must
In a world of hate,
Killings, and distrust.

But maybe someday,
With help from above,
We'll live in a world
Filled with love.

Church in the Wildwood

Crayon on manila drawing paper.

FOUND

Where in these stars did I come from
Where in this world do I go?
Everyone say they have answers
To questions they never did know.

They tell me the laws of the universe
They tell me the laws of the land,
They tell me the things that must be so
But it's their words I don't understand.

You must be shrewd, you must be cold
To live on honey and walk on gold,
Hold your own and give to none
Wallow in the greed and hate you've spun.

Once in my youth I remember hearing
A wonderful, beautiful, loving story,
About a babe sent down from heaven
To walk on earth, the son of Glory.

He taught the laws of the universe
He taught the laws of the land,
He spoke with love and compassion
That everyone might understand.

He will tell me where I came from,
He can tell me where I'll go,
He has all of the answers
To the questions they never did know.

His name is Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior
Come to earth to help us all,
He will help me along my way
And pick me up if I should fall.

NOTHINGNESS

I listen, but do not hear.
I have sight, but cannot see.
I talk, but am unheard.
I touch, but cannot feel.
I am free, but am a prisoner of my mind.
There is light, but walls of darkness surround me.
I am alive, but do not live.
I am alone in a world full of people.
I walk, but only in circles.
I call, but no one answers.
I am human, but am treated like an animal.
I smile, but feel tears in my heart.
I seek love, but find only hate.
I write letters that no one ever receives;
I write poems that are never read;
I write songs which are never sung.
I reach out, but find no help.
I cry tears that are never felt.
I find happiness in dreams only.
I fight a lost battle that never was.
When I have the will I find not the way.
When I find the way all will has escaped.
I still write although it will remain unread.
I write in the hope that, someday, someway,
..........the blind, will see, the lame
..........will walk, the deaf will hear,
..........the dumb will speak, and the
..........innocent shall be set free.

LIVING

Am I living? or am I just alive? I breath; I eat, I sleep, I wake. I'm not dead; am I? I don't know. Is breathing living? or is it just life? And sleeping or waking? what is it? Isn't it just habit? You have to have these for mere life. But what is living? Living is Loving; is it not? I am living when I'm with you, Love. Not just breathing but more, much more, When I hear you, or see you, or even just think about you; THAT'S LIVING! When you’re gone, I'm gone also. You are my breath, my heartbeat, my everything.

I'm thinking of you now,

I'M LIVING!

Love

REJOICING

Flowers on a hillside
Misty morning dew,
Waking with a happy heart
Rejoicing over you.

Your love makes the flowers grow
And diamonds of the dew,
It makes me wake with a happy heart,
Rejoicing over you.

Without you the fields are bare
The dew falls like crashing rain,
My heart is a lonely place,
Filled with untold pain.

You have come to me my Love,
You've made the fields fill again,
Again the dew forms silently
Upon my window pane.

Let us walk through the flowers,
And collect diamonds in the dew,
And I'll wake with happy heart,
Rejoicing over you.

Two Men

Assignment done for Business Machines class in High School, circa 1972. Poem by “Anonymous”.
(Ditto machine: Do you remember the ditto machine? The copies from this had that "smell" that everyone remembers.)

OSIFER (Officer)

Written in the early '70s.

Osifer, Osifer, give me a fix
Send me right down that river of Styx,
Osifer, Osifer, don't take me away,
'Cause once I get there
I won't want to stay.

Have pity on me, on my soul I pray;
Just give me a cot for my bod' to lay.

My mind has blown out
My life is dead,
I'm just a run-of-the-mill little acid-head,

So,
Osifer, Osifer give me a fix
Send me right down
That river of Styx.

COUNTRY

It’s winter in the country
The winds are blowing cold,
I’m sitting in my lonely room
With no one here to hold.

It’s evening in the country
The skies are growing black,
I’m waiting, quietly wondering,
When you’re coming back.

It’s quiet in the country
You’re in my every thought,
How we’ve loved, laughed and played
And even how we’ve fought.

I’m happy in the country
With you I want to be,
To share with you the happiness
That is inside of me.

EXPRESSION OF LOVE

How do you express a feeling
That extends from the heart to the stars?
A feeling so strong that no man can contain
In even the strongest of bars.

These are the feelings I have in my heart
That extends to the depths of my soul,
These are the feelings you've given to me
To make my person whole.

These you have given me freely
Without asking for favors or pay,
The feelings I feel inside my heart
No words could ever convey.

All I can do is offer myself
In the same way you offered to me,
And pray that our friendship lasts
From this day through all eternity.

A Study in Charcoal Pencil 1

Back to the Beginning

Back to the beginning
Where it all began,
Back to the past
If you think you can.

We'd see a land
Beautiful and free,
A cloudless sky
An endless sea.

Peace and Love
Throughout this land,
With Love and harmony
Among each man.

It began like this
But saw its end,
When along came its foe
A thing called sin.

Sin went out,
Throughout this land,
Put hate and destruction
In every hand.

He entered the mind
And destroyed the Love,
The gentle sweet thing
That came from above.

Time went on
And sin grew stronger,
The way its going
He may rule longer.

We must combat
With this terrible foe
We'll put in Love
Where there's hate and woe.

We'll fight on
And win some day,
Between Love and hate,
Love must win someway.

Maybe someday
We'll be there again
Back to the beginning
Where it all began.

LOVES, LOVE

Love like a flower blooming
Grows more beautiful with time,
Strong is the heart forever beating,
Like a golden chime.

With the love I give to thee
I receive the love back twice,
And with the love I get from thee,
I return the love back thrice.

Stronger grows our love from day--
To everlasting day,
The more we love; the more we're loved,
With love to give away.

And so spreads
The loves love,.
0f those who
Love to LOVE!

This is typical of the "doodling" in the 1970s. Big flowers, flourescent colors and "LOVE" all over everything.

REALIZATION OF LOVE

The gentleness of night
Falls like a feather to the ground,
And the mystery of darkness
Brings silence all around.

And lying here beside you
Brings the realization of
What there is about you
That I so deeply love.

When the rains fall from the heavens
And the skies are dark as night,
You’ll hold me in your arms
Till the sun comes strong and bright.

And when the sun is shining
With the sky a brilliant blue,
I'll see a world of peacefulness
Loving only you.

SHIFTING SAND

Of here or there,
Of near or far,
Of past or present,
I’ve left my scar.

Of good or bad,
Of fate or chance,
Come love or hate,
I’ve took my stance.

I’ve felt my feelings,
Gave what I could,
Been shorted some,
Both bad and good.

From this point
Where do I stand
On ever changing,
Shifting, sand?

Keep on Truckin'

Remember this guy? This is from the '70's.

JUST FOR THEM

There are two people
I’d really like to show
Just how much I love them,
Even though they know.

They've been there in my troubled times,
Forever by my side,
Putting all their trust in me
Even though I've lied.

No matter what the problem was
They were always there,
And though they might not always agree,
They were always fair.

One of the people is my Mom,
The other one is my Dad,
They've been there through all I've done
No matter good or bad.

To tell them that I love them
Doesn't seem enough,
Because of all I've done,
They've had it kind of rough.

I know right and I know wrong,
I owe it all to them,
Because of how they raised me
I'm the person that I am.

If I were rich I'd buy for them
The things they've never had,
I'd buy the world of luxuries,
Just for my Mom and Dad.

But no money can buy the things
My parents have given to me,
I’m proud of them and who I am
And how they've taught me to be.

And so I sit and think, and think and write,
To find the perfect way,
To tell them that I love them
Each and every day.

So here’s my poem I dedicate
To the greatest people I know,
This is for you, Mom and Dad
To say I Love You so.

HILLSIDE DREAM

Flowers on a hillside,
Small trickling stream;
This is where my journey lies,
In among my dreams.

Soft swaying tree,
With swing hung tight,
Everything in its place
Everything is right.

Lone dog howls;
Cool, bright, sunshine;
This is how it all would be
If everything were mine.

CIRCLES

I’m just a weary wanderer
Looking for my mind,
Round in circles endlessly
Talking to mankind.

As I traveled
On my way,
I met a man
Who had nothing to say.

The more he talked
The less he said,
Running circles
Round my head.

So I left
Searching again,
And met a man
Who had never been.

He’d never lived
He had never died,
He never laughed
He’d never cried.

And so I left
What wasn’t there,
And met a man
Who didn’t care.

Nothing mattered
No decisions to make,
His lack of concern
I could not take.

I had to leave
Had to move along,
And saw a man
Who was never wrong.

He stood on a pedestal
And talked all day,
To all those people
Who had nothing to say.

The more I’ve searched
The less I’ve found,
And all those circles
Keep spinning round.

Being Depressed

Assignment done for Business Machines class in High School, circa 1972.

HAUNTING EYES

Behold the eyes that cast mental shadows in the pit of darkness. They look into you but show no expression of what they see. The image of doom you feel follow you everywhere, as do the empty mystery cast from the depth of the eyes. You can find no escape, no place to hide, for you know not what it is you fear. And yet you know, that, even in death the eyes will follow you. Fear surrounds you and blinds you by its darkness. Those eyes, those tormenting eyes! You can't find any reasoning in them, no understanding spark coming from them. The fear grows unbearable, the heart grows weak, finally death comes. But in death the eyes still linger on eternally. Where do they come from? What do they want? Think, think hard, maybe there is an answer deep in the empty black pits of those eyes. Maybe they aren’t so empty.

OH MY GOD!

What have I done? those eyes....They were my own!

Introduction - A Note From the Author

(This is the Introduction from my poetry book. I will be posting my poems randomly as opposed to how I arranged them in my book.)

I believe that my “love affair” with words has been going on since I first began to talk, I think the notes from my teachers on my early report cards will attest to this, “Leann is a good student, but she talks to much.” In the 2nd grade my teacher, Mrs. Meister, found that she could keep me quiet so everyone else could finish their work by having me write short stories. She would tell me how very nice my stories were and that someday I might have one of my books in that very school library. Years later I read one of those stories that managed to survive time, it was terrible, but I guess it was good for a 2nd grader. Then in the 4th grade, I think it was, I had an assignment to write a poem for English. My poem received an A+ and it was placed on display in the main hallway with a few chosen others. This poem was “Hillside Dream”. From that point on I found pleasure in writing poetry. Most of my poems were written during my teenage years, but a few were written later. I have not composed a poem in many years now.
I have placed the more upbeat poetry towards the front and the sillier and more depressing ones towards the back. The artwork throughout the book are things that I have done and hung onto for some reason. Some of my favorite pieces have been lost or misplaced though.
Everyone seems to read something a little bit different into works of art, that also includes poetry. So read what you will into these, choose to like or dislike according to your own tastes. No offense was meant towards anyone, they were merely written to express a thought or feeling at the time that I wrote them. Have fun and I hope you enjoy some of them at least.

Leann (Heinrichs) Strobel
1/21/95