One Second Is Eternity
Enlightenment can happen
in the least likeliest of places
like a field of falling flurries
with not another soul around
the ground is blanketed,
soft and white
the edges of reality
hushed before
me like a long sigh
now, one second is eternity.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
Madison Avenue Marionettes
So spellboundwe count Dollars in our dreams
We chase dollars while wearing invisible collars and Strings from our limbs, Dance, dance Madison Avenue marionettes
Marching to someone else's tune, An ear worm So cunning That we swear and be damned it's Our own
We follow the piper Right into A self-imposed prison cell While all we really have, this singular moment, passes forever from our distracted eyes
Not enjoying nearly as much as we oughta be While the most precious commodity Evaporates Time, our time
Become Fluent in truth An incongruent sleuth You won't fit their plan But you'll be a (wo)man Who still has time, your time.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
The Price We Pay
As I lookin the mirror My temples Are greying And the wrinkles, They are deepening
But my heart Still glows with hope And I am grateful
I smile, still because, In my heart, I know that Youth is such A small price To pay For this wisdom.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
This Poem
Here I am, writing this poemWhen hundreds of other things Scream out for my attention
As Autumn's bluster Rustles the treetops Waving red, orange and gold Here I am, writing this poem
The hairs on the back Of my neck rise in the air, electric Sending shivers Never have I felt more alive, And it feels like this every time
When the words are right They flow on Like some lazy river Sourced in a land faraway That just never runs dry
Here I am, writing this poem And in a hundred years from now Some stranger, yet to be born, will Read these words and share the Same moment, will be intrigued But not know why
They'll have hundreds Of other things Screaming out for their attention But there they'll be, Reading this poem.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
Memories of the Sun
smothered in this deep winter bleakness
as the sun walks away from us
an ancient journey to be traveled once again
but I will hold fast in my memory the days
when it seemed close enough to pull from the sky
and whisper to
I remember each moment it warmed us
and the wondrous twilight when we squinted
as it danced broad along the water's edge
these memories of the sun,
they will offer me solace through the gathering darkness
as we patiently await the lushness of the equinox
with a certain feigned indifference that fools no one.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
This Wisdom
As I look
in the mirror
My temples
Are greying
And the wrinkles,
They are deepening
But my heart
Still glows
with hope
And I am
grateful
I smile, still
because,
In my heart,
I know that
Youth is such
A small price
To pay
For this wisdom.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
Own or gift an original poem of award-winning poet and novelist Eric Vance Walton!
Own or gift an original poem of award-winning poet and novelist Eric Vance Walton!
Own or gift an original work of award-winning poet and novelist Eric Vance Walton. These make great and unique gifts for all occasions.
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Never Become Uncomfortably Numb
time is tickingever faster for this dream chaser, this lover of peace and the simple things that make life worthwhile to live
so thankful for a faithful soulmate in this journey and all who have taught, shared their time with and have accepted this humble soul into their fold
each passing minute brings a greater realization that we are all here to learn from one another in this interactive and spectacular web of interconnectedness
the last of many demons were lain to rest the very moment I realized that I choose to never become uncomfortably numb.
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Writers! Check out my newest article in Authors Publish magazine.
So You Want To Be A Writer?
This is pure wisdom and truth! So You Want to Be a Writer By Charles Bukowski
if it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it. if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for words, don't do it. if you're doing it for money or fame, don't do it. if you're doing it because you want women in your bed, don't do it. if you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again, don't do it. if it's hard work just thinking about doing it, don't do it. if you're trying to write like somebody else, forget about it. if you have to wait for it to roar out of you, then wait patiently. if it never does roar out of you, do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all, you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers, don't be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don't be dull and boring and pretentious, don't be consumed with self- love. the libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind. don't add to that. don't do it. unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don't do it. unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't do it.
when it is truly time, and if you have been chosen, it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
The Chicago Trip
Back in 2001 my good friend Juan and I, on a whim, decided to have a guys weekend in Chicago. We had so much fun the first trip turned into one more and then another and, after the third year, it became a ritual. Throughout the years many things in our individual lives changed, jobs, a divorce then a new marriage a few years later for me, an adopted child and a battle with cancer for Juan but the Chicago trip was the one constant throughout all of this change. The Chicago trip was the reward that we allowed ourselves for a year of incredibly hard work. My friend Juan is an artist and I'm a writer and we were both very busy building our careers and saving for this trip was always a huge sacrifice. Fast forward a decade and we've stayed true to our commitment to this pilgrimage for the last twelve summers.
At first we had a very limited budget and ate far more Subway sandwiches than a person should. Our first year we each had a budget of $160 in spending money for four days and we somehow managed to do it. We must have put 30 miles on our shoes each of those four days. The hotel we stayed at was an old throwback from the 1920's called The Cass Hotel before it was snapped up by a hotel chain a few years ago and renovated. The rooms at the Cass were reasonably priced and relatively clean but there was still a certain seediness about the place. A few years later we began staying at the Seneca Hotel and until it eventually suffered the same fate as the Cass. Our first few years we were all about the nightlife and there was plenty of it to be had. We have so many unbelievable stories, so many experiences that have been created during these trips. Outrageous things that a person just couldn't make up. These memories are worth ten times whatever was spent on the trips. One day I promise I'll write a book about it.
The mid-nineties brought about a ten year revival of Jazz and big band music and it was popular with the younger crowd. I remember hopping the redline train to the Lawrence station, dressed in my finest suit to listen to big band at the Green Mill. The Alan Gresik Swing Shift Orchestra packed the place. There was so much class, so much energy there, it was incredibly fun.
As the years progressed so did our interests. Each year the Chicago trip became a little more about food, music and culture than about partying. After spending so much time in the city we learned to navigate like a local and since the advent of the smartphone we would easy pack three times as much out of the trip. Every year we gained more confidence and felt comfortable venturing further and further out. We visited Ravinia to enjoy a concert on the lush green grass, Oak Park to experience Frank Lloyd Wright's many architectural masterpieces. Bucktown for a decedent vegetarian feast at the Green Zebra restaurant.
This year we came to the conclusion that this would be will be the final year of our trip to the Windy City. These words had been uttered by us before but I don't think we meant it quite yet. Although this was our most enjoyable Chicago trip ever we both decided that we had seen the city inside out, backwards and forwards, and definitely for better and for worse. We were a little melancholy but we knew that this was it and we said our goodbyes to this wonderful city in style.
One of the many highlights was Rick Bayless' restaurant Xoco. I ordered the vegetable coldas, it was a stew of veggies, wild mushrooms and potato/masa dumplings. Juan had the spare rib and red chili coldas. As good as the food was, we both agreed the best part of the meal by far was the hot cocoa. The staff at Xoco roast and grind the single-sourced cocoa beans right there at the restaurant and words cannot describe how delicious or different this is from any hot cocoa you have ever tasted. Believe me, it is mind-blowing...a melted truffle in a cup. Another highlight was seeing Sara Marie Young at Andy's Jazz Showcase. Look her up, she will one day soon be a household name.
This final year we stayed at the Millennium Knickerbocker Hotel and it was in the best location we ever had. Most everything was close by, the rooms were modern and clean and the concierge gave great suggestions. The Knickerbocker even has a little bar downstairs in the lobby with a jazz trio playing most nights. It was nice to relax down there either before or after the night on the town.
The people of Chicago are, hands down, just some of the best souls I've met anywhere. They are friendly, open-minded and just plain cool. Back in 2002, which I think was our second year, an employee of a shoe store on Michigan Avenue clued us into the nightlife on Rush Street. Back then it was lined with jazz clubs and nightspots that were open until 4:30 in the morning. Today, Rush Street is just a shadow of its former self. This year we were shocked to learn that two of our regular spots left standing, Jilly's and the Hunt Club were demolished. These clubs were reduced to vacant lots, gaping holes in the cityscape and only the ghosts of happy memories remained. We were just in Jilly's last year listening to an amazing band and having the time of our lives. Rumor has it they're putting up high end retail stores in their place.
Little by little, I suppose just like our youth, the old Chicago is slowly fading away. Chicago will always hold a special place in my heart but if growing older teaches you anything, it teaches you how short our time here really is. For our next trip, we'll choose a new destination. Will it be Montreal or possibly Vancouver? We're not sure but there's one thing that's certain, there's nothing more valuable than making new memories.
A World Away Are We
Things that might have beenNow might they never be? What once we thought was Heaven sent Now a world away are we
In shiftless moods the fogs descend Fast lives filled with missed subtleties Do we understand or do we just pretend? When a world away are we
Thoughts fractures by perception Leave us treasured shards of memories Reality's masterpiece or deception? When a world away are we
Life will grind us down to size Until the very day In an epiphany we realize That we're not a world away.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
German Village
You're a worldWithin yourself
Take me in Ceaseless past
For it's your antiquity that we crave
As I walk your streets And absorb your allure
Contemporary urgency Is ignored,
something long lost Is rediscovered
I am home.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
The Garden
The silence had touched herAn open-armed silence So ready to embrace Her, so embraceable
Kneeling in the garden Cool, dark Earth that sustains her As she sustains it, Such a Peaceful union
Seed, undercover of darkness, Growing, soon all will bare witness To the beauty of the fruit.
~ Eric Vance Walton ~
Generous Wisdom
Lips stained purpleFrom the wine Wisdom born From the pain of time
It stings so sweetly, So completely Gives as freely As it takes away