Real Fiction

There are two kinds of fiction to find…
One in the world and the other in the mind.

When unpleasant things happen for real
With which the real mind is unable to deal,
It creates a world of fiction so it can survive
In order to justify that its unreal beliefs are alive.

These unreal beliefs have a real world all alone
As they deny real facts with data of their own.
Their fiction continues as world events transpire
With interpretation to support beliefs they require.

The world of fiction will collide with the world of real
As its members seek reality, it will lose its appeal.
Unless it dispenses with its delusions of the facts,
It will disappear as it's devoured by the reality it lacks.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Swan And The Fawn

Finely Freckled Fawn called to Suave, Stately Swan,
“Please help me quickly. I need you to come on.
When I took a drink in the pond, what did I see?
But a poor little fawn drowning who looked just like me.”

Sir Swan explained “Be calm my dear and listen here.
It’s only your reflection.” he explained with affection.
“Each time you take a drink just think how you can smile,
As that pretty face looking at you is happy all the while.”

“Oh thank you Sir Swan.” said the grateful Freckled Fawn.
“All my fears and all my tears from now on will be gone.
Suave, Stately Swan and Finely Freckled Fawn are friends
Because of thoughtfulness and gratitude upon which friendship depends.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Heaven

Heaven are you really there?
Are you an actual creation
That merits my fervent prayer,
Or a mere figment of my imagination?

As I scan the skies, I wonder what one day I'll find…
A supernatural place of magnanimous proportion?
That only a deity could have designed,
Or nothing more than religious extortion.

What is out there that may await me…
A fourth dimension of unlimited rewards?
Heaven help me; please don't bait me.
I beg you from down here in the midst of the hoards.

Until that moment arrives and I pass from this earth,
I will maximize all positive abilities I can employ.
I will love and truly live each moment with mirth,
Believing reward will be eternal happiness and joy.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Miracle of Mistakes

For each adult who now stands tall,
How many times a baby’s fall?
The eloquence for which we reach,
Bought by a child’s stammered speech.
So not to err is not to walk,
And no mistakes would mean no talk.

Look deep in self for what it takes.
There’s no reward without mistakes.
To improve means being wrong
To find that place where you belong.

Upon arrival wisdom’s clear.
Mistakes have helped bring each one here.
For to learn is to fall,
Then rise again and give it all.

Each time that doubt interferes,
View the start of all your years.
Walks and talks could not take place

[...] Read more

poem by Gregory Huyette
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I'm Rich

As I sit here and think of what I’m worth,
I realize I’m the richest person on earth.
I have a wonderful spouse who loves me
And loving children that we often see.

Our gorgeous grandchildren keep us young
Through their joy we’ve found we’re among
The ones learning from the wisdom they show
By their questions and intense desire to know.

My very good mental and physical health
Are additional assets to my abundant wealth.
New days are invaluable gifts that must be
Efforts to better a world so good to me.

Relatives and friends are key parts of my life.
I live in a beautiful home with my lovely wife.
The rest are things I may want but don’t need
Since I’m now the richest of this human breed.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Blind Sight

I look but don’t see the real world in front of me.
Moments waste away with the details of my day.
Do I have enough? How can I get more stuff?
Can I have another win or fit in one more sin?

When I look I can’t see
What’s important to me.
I worship things and seek pleasure.
I can’t see what I should treasure.

Then a blind man told me, he lost his sight so he could see.
He sees why he conquered grief since his life is all too brief.
He sees that everlasting love is true language from above.
He sees that darkness is for sleeping, not sorrow and weeping.

His spirit senses kindness and thanks to his blindness,
He knows that with vision of heart and mind,
It’s only his eyes that will be blind.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Traffic Lights

During that time you're having a good day…
You're not in a hurry; lights all go your way.
When time is ample and the scene serene,
Just as you need them, they all turn green.
When the pressure's off with no goal ahead,
The friendly signals never turn to red.

But when time is short and pressure's on,
That friendly shamrock is quickly gone.
If boss or spouse will determine your fate,
At each blood red light dejected you wait.
It's like riding a sagging nag made of lead.
Your time erodes with each frustrating red.

Since life's lights are full of red and green,
Safe traffic depends on a well paced routine.
Then respect for all lights, as well as speed
Are necessary if life's journey is to succeed.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Running Out Of Time

Just looked at my watch and I'm running out of time.
Best to attend to pertinent issues and forget the five and dime.
I'm usually so busy with routine chores of the day
That what really counts I miss or feel it's just in my way.

After work I was too tired for family with no strength to move on.
Now I sit with time on my hands, but with family long gone.
I spent my time gathering material possessions for all to see.
Now that time is running out I realize they mean nothing to me.

The two sided coin of time has helped me truly understand
That life is like a veritable desert of sand.
One side is love which will provide protection every hour.
The other is desire for material things sands of time will devour.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Ancient Scribbling

How did I get this ancient so very fast?
Seems like my 40th year is in the recent past.
Seventy one has just roared by like a freight train.
Now I trudge down the street in ever growing pain.

I truly believe in the reality of reincarnation.
These body parts were misused before my utilization.
I'm bald, but that feature causes me no fear;
What bothers me is each day there is less I can hear.

There's the deal about my memory and its phase;
Events of 50 years ago not bad… less for recent days.
As for my virility, I feel there is something wrong.
I tried to see four doctors, but the lines were too long.

I guess things aren't really as bad as they sound.
I had kidney-prostate cancer and am above ground.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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Choose or Lose

Every day there's a fork in the road.
Do you settle for pie less a la mode?
Are you the seller or being sold?
Are you the teller or being told?

If you choose, you might be right;
If you don't, you lose the fight…
A fight to know where you stand,
Pursuing ways solely you planned.

If afraid to choose, you surely lose,
Missing chances only you refuse.
That choice is there just for you.
Let not love nor money dim your view.

In name and gender you had no choice.
Now able to choose, in unflinching voice,
Proclaim that friends you select
Reflect your own self respect.

[...] Read more

poem by Gregory Huyette
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