Ego

My self-efficacy was bleeding,

So I tried to plug the leak,

By lifting objects of increasing weight,

And returning them to their original positions,

With no net change. But there was a hole

In my heart that could not be filled—

A desire that I could not sidestep

Or evade no matter how hard I tried.

I cantered through a similar kind

Of corridor, each and every day—

An endless kerfuffle I created,

From the disparity of what I deemed

To be true, and the path I thought to take.

But it was backwards! My delusions,

And dreadfully misguided passions,

I gave in to blind happiness—

I found satiety in safety and routine.

But I have finally bucked the demon

From my back—broke the chain

And stumbled upon the courage

That supposedly existed all along.

Against all odds, I will continue

To follow a calling—even if I get

Fall down a thousand more times—

My self-efficacy was bleeding,

But at least I still walk the winding road. 

Every Feeling Known to Man

Surely, it must be a combination

Of every feeling known to man

That haunts me still—binds me

To pensive nights and rustles

Me awake from the deepest sleep.

I must be the most optimistic

Of all the pessimists, for when I see

You smile—when I catch a glimpse

Of your tender visage—I regain my faith

And am reminded that there is good

In this world after all.

Speaking with words I’ve contrived

I hope to relay a message that I’ve

Yet to define—I would like to shed

Light on a feeling I don’t completely

Understand… Will I ever comprehend

Why I cannot sleep, or why my

Thoughts are bound to you even

When I try to clear my mind?

I don’t believe… I don’t believe

That I will ever truly be able to illustrate

The words within my heart

      DannYetman

www.DanielYetman.com

Eternally Grateful

This is me striving to articulate

With a clarity my voice cannot pass.

This is sentiment I wish to express

With the ease and lack of distress

Of either this line or the last.

This is me applying repetition and rhyme,

To project my pondering to your eyes.

From my hands to your shifting gaze,

I aspire to contrive clandestine praise

With shy scribbling and surprise.

Dearly, I wish a life of happiness,

And joy to you for all your days.

I wish tiny treasures inflate your world

So you may never come unfurled—

I hope your laughter never strays.

I am stumbling—fumbling upon—

The right letter combination to state…

That I hope, when blue skies fade grey,

You are soon met with a sunny array—

Fortune—to share your smile’s weight.

And if there is a path you wish to walk,

A hidden grove, through which you start

To trot—I hope you see it fit,

To follow your true desire—commit—

To the voice from within your heart.

This is me anxious—proofreading—

And preening the passage that I have yet

To pass, and in essence admit—reveal—

I hope your life is kind…I feel

Eternally grateful that we have met.

    DannYetman

www.DanielYetman.com

Everything I'm Not

I wish I was a little taller, a little better looking—

My teeth a little straighter.

I wish my cheeks were stronger, my skin smoother—

My smile more debonair.

I wish my jokes were funnier, my laugh softer

And my humor more appropriate.

I wish I could lift more weight, run faster

And jump higher.

I wish I was smarter, more poetic—

More profound.

I wish I could speak without stammering

When I get excited or angry.

I wish I was a little less awkward so in those moments,

I could think of something to say.

I wish I was musical, more artistic

And chivalrous.

I wish I was exciting, more passionate

And a better confidante.

I wish I was more boisterous and loud,

Not so quiet all the time.

I wish my eyes were brighter and my stories interesting

So I could make you fall in love. 

        DannYetman

http://yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/ 

Everything I Do

December has come to past;
I walk the streets with you in mind.
I sit in snow and watch ice grow;
I sit alone, without you.
Alone and cold, I come to be,
walking upon downtown streets.
Wayward in my goal for you
I find myself lost, in the bitter cold.
Upon me the homeless prey,
lost and alone all I have is you.
Bitter and covered in ice, my heart is frozen,
like my hands, black and broken.
Upon me, the homeless run slender fingers,
in the midst of them I stand regal and alone.
They don't know, I search for you.
          DannYetman
http://www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/