Of the World but Not In It

under the guise of community
we’ve channeled small to great distraction
sending light round the world to darken corners
reaching afar
yet sequestered within
and touch not the ones we touch

this bond that circumvents distance
brings us together but keeps us distant
threads of connection suspend
taut and tethered on links of illusion
redirecting reality
along a virtual remote controlled
hallucination

the sensory overload deprivation
consumes exponentially
as even the very young succumb
the inversion mirroring the unseen
a mirage in which thieves of sight
steal that entrusted

seeing through a glass darkly
underlies a cloud of gray
where anonymous evil exonerates abuse
in a tangle of artificial alibis
that bind souls with cords of fancy
twisted in a web, spun of lies
that suck the light from dreams

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© November 18, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

Souljournaling

She dances between lines and margins
Contending with each pirouette
Scribbling with a palliative spin
Bound by a pansophist counterfeit
Leading her on, the dance becomes flight
Her wings flutter through the chapters it writes
For an epilogue in the quietus footlights

Whispering a hymn of transcendent rest
That wakes in infinite birth,
She learns to forget the years of distress
For lessons of incalculable worth
In what the pen of permanence discerned
That yesterday’s tomorrows become today
And stories are told from pages turned

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© October 16, 2016
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

Reign

Glistening from the depths, rain reflects
Tears of a despondent god
Drinking the silky silence of a fear
That is out of my reach and into your hands
My hands cup around the drops
That with time steep the bitter
And slipping through my fingers
Pass my parched lips
To lie fallow in my sentient bowels
The darkening clouds obscure the horizon
And even as the weight of their burden swells
They resist the gravitational pull
Until the storm breaks
Yet once drinking in of its salutary libation
There dawns a lucid new Eden
Anointed by this fertile font
And although yet it remains but a glimmer, I realize
I know all I need to know
I’m wet now, soaked through, bone-drenched
A saliferous flow immersing the soul
Preparing the ground from which it will rise
So what was sown in darkness may reach for the light
Where beyond this well of blue, e’er thy rose of red bloom

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© December 1, 2010
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

Faith

Imprinted in the marrow of the soul
is a longing for a road
that impels our steps
in unison, without hesitation
with the certainty of destination
that gives each stride purpose
and each milestone meaning

a journey traversing winding valleys
and transient summits
towards a selfless horizon
that softens every hard place
and humbly prevails
against all odds

and the vision that illuminates
even as each dark step falls

written by Scott Schoffstall
© August 16, 2015
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

son of no one

the son of no one
born on the run
infant estranged
the son of no one
left to
derange
biding time
for exchange
to administrators
confined with
the instigator’s
crime
coming of age
will foster the rage

inflicted, unseen
constricted to ween
little esteemed
while
detention intervened
caught one’s attention
caution neglected
subtracted and rejected

the son of no one
violent companion
father to none
only
chance undone
absent inherent
not all as apparent

spectre paternal
world war
internal
post traumatic
diligence erratic
distance and animosity
breeding atrocity

yet the one
would resign
within
destinies entwined
after long suffering
time
inevitable design
disillusioned
from what wrought
confusion

let it go as
it comes
son of no one
once numb
for some
to the many
no one
now son of the one

the race
had to run
for it to be won
come bittersweet
communion
for a portentous reunion

is it good to be gone?
life will go on
for after life on the run
this one son was won

 

 

 

written by Scott Schoffstall
© February 02, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

strong in the silence gives

on my way I’ve known
a quiet place of safety
that knows strength beyond
a thousand towers
standing proud
behind walls with bold boasts
made of stone

this place,
where one confides
secret treasure
held without fear
of pillage,
holds delicate
beauty unrealized
and considering itself
small, soars above
any tower’s boast

this accepting refuge
dwells not under shadow
but in shade
where one can find comfort
and cool deliverance
from the heat of battle

a well of still
cool water will greet you here
enough to quench a lifetime
and the deeper you draw
the more it gives
it will never run dry
for it taps unto a source
everlasting

it does this without
knowing return
its thirst is for outlet
and gives freely
from its want
never witholding.
if it did presume,
it would lose
this very draw
and would parch
from its own stagnant
depletion

this oasis,
quiet and still,
does not rush madly
over rock and fall.
it awaits in the cool
keep of its depth
within its banks,
fertile for growth
where life renews

all strength
from this place
comes not from tower
behind walls of stone
but in the still gentle
giving of its unassuming
silent source

its only desire
is to be known
and desired
so it may give
from its pool
from time under shade
awaiting—quietly
kept for just such a weary
traveler

if you are so blessed
to find such a reserve,
cherish its abundance
but be warned,
if you plunge its depth
to bloat in haste,
you may season
with bitter salts
and another will
drink your poison

then may you be
as the vagrant dune
a howling wind
blowin parched
under the searing light
wandering aimlessly
kicked under foot
with dread and curses
never knowing home

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© May 19, 2013
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

I am in me

I was a hippy
it was all rather trippy
but I found the love
was the love of pleasure
though fine
was the root and sole treasure
the end of all measure
thereof

I was a punk
but I found the justice
was just as
long as I got a chunk
of all that jazz
just so much junk
trapped in a funk
sold out to pizazz

now I’m me
who I’m meant to be
I am evolving
continually revolving
with the one
that set me free

and as it turns out
that was what
I had sought to see

 

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© March 24, 2013
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

legacy in light

remember,
everyone has a story though many aren’t told
child, woman or man, young or old
from the man on the hill in mansion elite
to the drunk or drug addict, lying half dead in the street

but these offensive you pass by not caring to know
lying stripped of dignity, your final dealt blow
many once seekers of light glittering would see
betrayed by this darkness you now judge them to be

beware,
this condemnation you cast down on these down cast
a higher court convicts, worthless to last
for seeing what glitters as your worshiped light
sentenced worldly ways will blind you its blight

yet these at your feet you neglect to beware
with unceasing faith even unto depths of despair
entrust now the true legacy in light, whence faithfull commend
their names written in life’s book, a story without end

written by Scott Schoffstall
© January 07, 2013
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

A Christmas Thought

I believe love will win the day

 have you ever considered the rock
strong and seemingly impenetrable
stands unalterable by your hand

have you considered the water
how you can dip your hand through it and it envelopes you

have you seen the shore where the rock meets the sea

have you the time to consider how that which gave way to your gentle touch and infused you with its life has taken the hard impenetrable stone and suffered to gradually smooth it to pebble and eventually sand

I believe love will win the day because hate is exhaustible and love, in the true heart, is not.

Peace be with you and yours

written by Scott Schoffstall
© December 24, 2010
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

 

 

 

in our name (the Pyrrhic victor)

oh dear one so bright and new
how do I explain this world to you
we’ve turned our face from the light above
blinding our minds to the sight of love

once we cared for our little ones like you
now we teach everything and nothing are true
confuse and abuse you to chill and become
cold from self, will freeze a tender heart numb

we’ll twist you that way and twist you this
use your friends to push you into our abyss
from program to programmed, all day in our spell
til open minds enclose within our comfy cell

you’ll do as your told, your soul will be sold
you’ll give us your little ones before they’re too old
while still in make believe, it’s easily understood
our pixie dust will turn what’s evil into good

but only ill comes from this nefarious course
and we’ll be there with denial to deflect from its source
giving no other outlet than what they’ve been taught
lash out, make them suffer, make them pay from what’s wrought

Remember, learn, act

written by Scott Schoffstall
© December 15, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn