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Edwin Hofert Poem
The Secret
Somewhere someplace not far away a couple lied together.
No talk about the future no talk about forever.
They had lovers of their own their lovers were not there.
It's best if kept a secret the love that they would share.
Lost in loves great passion covered in each others sweat.
They're going to have a baby but they don't know it yet.
In nine months the baby born a secret softly cries.
So much still for him to learn of life conceived in lies.
Often he just played alone it seemed it was his way.
Then one day the secret was sent outside to play.
He grew strong like others did he gave it all his best.
Without one clue he never knew the truth beat in his chest.
Overwhelmed again and again the sadness he can't shake.
The devil whispered in his ear “You are a mistake”.
Still he tried through tears he cried to somehow rise above.
Getting lost time and again in his search for love.
When the walls came crashing down his whole world fell apart.
Welcome to the world of secrets and to your broken heart.
Shattered like a piece of glass his dreams fell to the ground.
Somewhere up near heaven even angels heard the sound.
Tears poured from his heart and soul through both day and night.
Searching for some healing in words that he would write.
Broken in so many ways all he meant for good.
Forever somehow secret where some misunderstood.
Now he walks in shadows seeking shelter from the rain.
Don't you dare look in his eyes you'll get lost inside his pain.
Like the secret long ago he spends his time alone.
It seems being by himself is now his comfort zone.
Asking nothing from no one wanting only just to give.
The only dream he still dreams is live and just let live.
A million miles on his heart and tears that he still cries.
So it is for secrets and those conceived in lies.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
First Love
A man remembers his first love.
Until he finds his grave.
If he lives to be a hundred.
That's what he'll always crave.
For some it might be a blonde.
A red head or brunette.
Others are still looking.
They haven't found it yet.
For some it is those buns of steel.
We've all heard about.
Whatever a mans first love is.
He hates to go without.
There may be some who's first love.
Is in the color of her eyes.
I'll always remember my first love.
A greasy cheese burger and fries.
Make it a double patty.
With everything on top.
Ketchup, mustard, or special sauce.
Please don't ever stop.
Fries fried to a golden brown.
Thin and crispy too.
A greasy cheese burger with some fries.
No talking til I'm through.
So now you know my secret.
A greasy cheeseburger and fries.
If you want inside my heart.
Make mine super size.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
The Poet
Tribute to
Tim Smith @ Poetrysoup.com
Seeking inspiration
in the darkness of the night.
He listens to the shadows
to give him words to write.
A longing somewhere in the wind
a broken heart cries out.
It's captured his attention,
now's not the time to doubt.
He listens to a love gone wrong
he hears the teardrops fall.
Still he cannot turn away
until he's heard it all.
It speaks to him of anguish
and of a broken will.
He feels a soul begin to bleed
but he listens still.
When silence again finds him
in the shadows of the night.
He speaks for the voiceless
within the words he'll write.
Sending hope and faith and love
on wings of butterflies.
He reaches out to broken souls
then he helps them rise.
For deep inside he holds a key
though many may not know it.
The way to mend a broken heart
is the heart inside the poet.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
The Pride Of Poetry
Tribute To
Kim Patrice Nunez @ poetrysoup.com
Like sunrise in the morning
or darkness of the night.
Even shadows hearken to her
when she sits down to write.
Oceans all grow restless
there's a stirring up above.
Clouds move so the moon can see
as she writes words of love.
Storms are brewing in the skies
her anger's not forbidden.
Be grateful for the skies of blue
on days her anger's hidden.
Tonight today is almost gone.
She's poetry's long lost lover.
When this day is over
she'll sit and write another.
With mountain tops and butterflies
and valleys filled with springs.
Lovers lost along the way
and sometimes angels wings.
As she looks through eyes of love
and only she can see.
What each new day's going to bring
the pride of poetry.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
Broken In Me Reigns
There is a place from deep within
where I hide my hearts pains.
A darkened room off by itself
where the broken in me reigns.
The hinges all rusted in place
where seldom is love spoken.
Still the hurts they come and go
the windows are all broken.
On rainy days it seems set free
those memories all roam.
Then late at night again alone
it seems they all come home.
There were times much younger then
I couldn't stop them but I'd try.
Older now and wiser too
I hang my head and cry.
For you can't let go of certain things
that life has put you through.
It's just no use to let go
when it's holding on to you.
So if you see I've lost my smile
tears are what remains.
It's just I've slipped off by myself
where the broken in me reigns.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
Cereal Killer
The story of his life
a made for TV thriller.
Title in blood red
life of a cereal killer.
He don’t want no fried eggs
or peanut butter toast.
He killed a box of grape nuts once
but he don’t like to boast.
He has Wheaties for his breakfast
Cheerios for his lunch.
For a mid day snack
he likes Captain Crunch.
He don’t want a T-bone
he don’t want French silk.
Corn flakes and some sugar
in a great big bowl of milk.
Along about suppertime
as he hides from the cops.
Sitting in the shadows
munching sugar pops.
He don’t mean to scare you
sometimes he behaves.
Even when it’s boo berry
or Count Chocula he craves.
He’s no threat to society
at a table or a booth.
He’s just a cereal killer
with a really bad sweet tooth.
From early dawn til after dusk
he’s never gonna stop.
You hear him in his kitchen
going snap crackle and pop!
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
Between The Lines
Tribute to FJ Thomas
@ poetrysoup.com
No doubt you'll read the words she writes
of love in lovers eyes.
Seashells on a beach somewhere
beneath the clear blue skies.
Holding hands and taking walks
in the springtime in a park.
Or whispers being whispered
by lovers after dark.
But when it comes to those she loves
and those that stand beside her.
Unless you read between the lines
it's all kept safe inside her.
Like dreams some dream long after dark
while laying fast asleep.
And promises of secrets known
she promised she would keep.
There's nothing there to hold her back
there's nothing she must hide.
It's just it's much too personal
to talk of tears she's cried.
There were times in love before
when certain words were spoken.
What she got for all she gave
was getting her heart broken.
So for now she's come to think
of the heart that's in her chest.
Certain things are better off with
those that she knows best.
All in all just like a star
you can see how her love shines.
But to see beyond the light
you must read between the lines.
Edwin C Hofert
Picture provided by: http://s1264.photobucket.com/user/Rita7070/
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
Here We Go Again
Sometimes I see it coming.
sometimes I feel it start.
It’s like a storm is brewing,
I start to fall apart.
So much to be happy for,
these tears I can’t control.
The product of the brokenness
that used to be my soul.
One day on the mountain top
there’s nothing I can’t see.
Next day when I’m waking up
the mountain sits on me.
With darkness all around me
and the shadows closing in.
I grab my heart and hold on tight
cause here we go again.
All those fears come rushing back
there’s no place I can hide.
It’s not much new it’s what I do
just one more storm to ride.
I bared my soul so many times
no more I must confess.
It’s not about the goodness
or the strength that I possess.
I’m right back where I used to be.
I’m right back where I’ve been.
I’m not where I want to be
and here we go again.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2017
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Edwin Hofert Poem
Ten Thousand Angels
Listening to the silence
I felt you touch my soul.
I could sense a teardrop fall
as you lost all control.
I felt the heartache in you
As mine then did break too.
I knew what was happening
was happening to you.
I called heavens angels
though I uttered not a sound.
I told them I had a friend
that needed them around.
I felt them leave their resting place
as they left one by one.
I sent ten thousand angels
before the night was done.
I saw deep within my heart
as they gathered round so warm.
Protecting you and keeping you
safe from your life's storm.
I bid them to stay awhile
to keep you from what harms.
The night ten thousand angels
held you in their arms
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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Edwin Hofert Poem
Understanding Suicide Understanding Me
Awhile back I had a dear friend contact me to ask if I heard about the young mans suicide at a nearby towns school. I had not. After asking one time on face book if any one of my friends had heard of any such event. My wall began to fill up with details about his life and his personality. His struggles and even previous attempts to end or erase his existence.
He was described as having dreamy eyes by female classmates when he was younger. He was described as the most polite and well mannered but troubled child one person said they had ever met.
Memories of my own changing years flooded my soul as I thought about it all. I did a school report in what they called then Junior High. And my chosen topic was suicide. I've often asked myself why I chose that topic. Today will be one of the very few times I admit it was on my mind a lot during that period of my life. It wasn't because my home life was unbearable. It wasn't because I had no friends or because my young heart had been broken.
In fact I'm only just now realizing it had almost nothing at all to do with my surroundings. It was something within me. Fear certainly had a part to play. Fear of tomorrow. Fear of never really feeling like I fit in. Even though by all outward appearances I was adjusting as well as the majority of people my age.
There was then and sometimes even now this voice. This relentless cruel and demeaning voice always there to remind me. I'll never be good enough. I will always only get what I deserve and that's why I'll never have anything that lasts. Anything that is true. And truly mine.
I was only given a passing grade for my report on suicide because it was obvious the amount of time and effort I put into it. I was told the topic I chose was wrong for a jr high school project. I had failed again. All of that after listening with blood pumping that we could choose our own topic. Somehow my choice wasn't good enough.
I realize now that my very choice for a topic should have sent off bells and whistles throughout the school that one of their own was thinking thoughts of suicide. But they missed it. They didn't see me at all.
Today I don't know why I chose that topic. But I know that one result of it was the saving of my own life. The understanding I gained by being able to see inside the mind that is tormented by unanswerable questions all starting or ending with why? And the realization that to the troubled mind the ultimate answer to fix the most un fixable things.
Is to end it.
This is the point when discussing suicide where fools love to chime in un researched and selfish insensitive remarks revealing their opinions and the fact that they are a fool.
A wise man knows only what he knows.
And he does not pretend to have already been where he never hopes to go.
People often consider suicide to be a selfish act. Sometimes referring to it as a cowards way out.
I hate that. And I hate anything that tries to simplify something as complex as a human mind that has reached it's breaking point.
The fact is that to the person in the midst of that struggle. It is the most unselfish and heroic thing that they think they could do.
My point is, that it was my understanding of suicide. It's effects and it's consequences that kept me from crossing that line.
After all the details of this young life surfaced and several hours later my dear friend and I talked again. And without saying it I know she was asking about this path I'm on with my poetry. The tributes to loved ones that have died. The heartache and the heartbreak that I see every day sometimes all day long.
And she asked me. Does all the sadness ever get to you? I responded Absolutely.
There are times I struggle beneath its weight. Sometimes I fall. But somehow I manage to get up again and I keep writing and sometimes when I'm lucky I see someones reaction to a poem where all of a sudden they get it. A life changing revelation takes place in that moment in time. And for a minute.
I win.
I know the reason I'm alive is to help other people live.
And to find the fullness in their life that I may or may not ever find for myself. It's no longer about me. Because you see somewhere back there that part of me that wanted so badly just to die.
I let it die. And I moved on but not me as I was. A different me. Weaker in some ways and stronger in others. Less proud but more to be proud of. More easily overwhelmed but less breakable.
And so when you see me on the mountaintop and I'm strutting around acting like I belong there. Please. Just let me have that one moment. Because tomorrow I'll be back with the mountain on top of me. Trying to find another way to save someone from going where I have been and hoping to enrich other peoples lives even if it means I know I'm simply going to be passed up along the way.
My reward is you rising above my highest point. My fee for my services? That you never forget how valuable you are. And that you keep pushing forward and never give up.
If you forget me tomorrow. That's ok. But don't forget the things I said. And don't forget to help someone else along the way.
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God Bless
Heart Whisperer Ed Hofert @ facebook
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
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