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David Wayne Oakes

of

Westminster, CA, US

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Trapped

by

David Wayne Oakes

Trapped within a lonely cell
Alive but not really free
Miserable every day and night
Never able to know what could be
Afraid to say or do anything
Afraid what your captors may think
Unable to fulfill life's promises
Not knowing if you're at the brink
That is the fate of everyone
Whose potential is trapped within
Always afraid what others may think
They are a fool or committed a sin
The only way to break out of our jail
Is to be true to ourselves first
Considering input from others of course
But not letting them extinguish our thirst

The Tool

by

David Wayne Oakes

Some people call me a romantic
Many people call me a fool
They say my poems mean nothing
Or that I try to use them as a tool.
I'm not quite sure about the romantic
But I probably am quite the fool
I am no master of form or style
My writing was not learned at school.
What I write comes from somewhere inside me
In a place I don't really know how to find
It seems to find me whenever it sees
Something overwhelmingly horrible or kind.
Then it completely takes over my body
My left hand takes on a life of it's own
I seldom even know what it is writing down
Until I reread what my left hand has grown.
So I don't think I use my poetry for an end
I think it uses me as a kind of means
To give itself life to try to describe how it feels
And help visualize the pictures in the scenes.

Twelve Hundred Poems

by

David Wayne Oakes

Twelve hundred poems more or less
I had when I was twenty Five
The summary of my life to that point
Some measurement that I was alive.
When young I saw the cruel side of people
Which left me forever scarred
Only to the paper could I talk of these things
From real discussions I had myself barred
I never considered myself a poet
But those words meant a lot to me
Everything I had felt over the years
All that I'd known them to be.
My first love, my first fight
The drugs and alcohol too
Some discussed the war in Vietnam
Many were written while feeling blue.
I wrote about love and happiness
And about sorrow and pain
There were writings about others
But they were about me in the main.
To me even my reaction to others
How I could feel their hurt
Gave me some insight into my own world
There was no issue I would skirt.
Because these writings meant so much to me
I wanted to share them with my wife
Who promptly threw them in the fireplace
Beginning the end of our life.
She said it was awful wimpy
For a big strong man like me to do
There must be better ways she said
And listed off a few.
But a great deal of me died that day
My past was gone and my future looked bleak
It's one of the few time I've been close to hitting a woman
But that response is only for the weak.
I did develop instant writers block
For years I thought of nothing to write
Until one day a lady in blue
Pulled me from the black and into the light.
I write again from time to time
When I really feel the need
Sometimes even just to make myself laugh
OR when I have a message I hope others heed.
But, I will never be completely whole again
A part of my soul forever roams
It searches and watches and hopes for
The lost twelve hundred poems.

Dream Love

by

David Wayne Oakes

Walks along the golden beach
When the sun begins to rest
Just you and I all alone
Away from all the rest
Sitting by the fireplace
Cuddled so close together
Laughing, crying, keeping warm
No matter what the weather
Looking deep into your eyes
Inhaling that sweet perfume
Not needing words to say a thing
When it's quiet as a tomb
To become engulfed in your arms
Is the ultimate high I've known
Making love with all out passion
With tenderness always shown
Feelings go deeper than words could say
With fulfillment in my heart
Within my life you will always be
The biggest, most loving part

Sweat Dreams

by

David Wayne Oakes

Waking up in the middle of the night
Sweat covered and chilled to the bone
With shaking hands and heartbeat loud
As if beating through a megaphone
Images of lives that used to be
But are no more because of me
How hard it is to sleep sometimes
When memories refuse to flee
You never completely escape the past
No matter how much time goes by
There is no way to right the wrongs
No matter how hard you try
You can only try as best you can
To not allow the past to repeat
To open your heart lovingly
And never from your truths retreat
The nightmares they may never end
And the screams may never fade
But you can live life in a better way
And hope in time the debts are

Reflections

by

David Wayne Oakes

Looking through a mirrored glass
Wondering what is and what will be
Not knowing the right move to make
Never knowing what's right for me
I've stumbled down the road of life
Never sure which road to take
Will there be but pain and sorrow
Or will life give me a break
I look ever deeper into my heart
To find the strength of soul
To carry on each night and day
Until my heart is full

Rainbow in the Dark

by

David Wayne Oakes

I have a picture of a lady
Emblazoned upon my mind
With a voice so soft and cool
And a manner which is kind.
Sometimes I see her when awake
Her image so vivid and stark
Always she is in my dreams
Like a rainbow in the dark.
Whenever I need her the most
She comes to me in full bloom
No matter how lonely I may feel
She brightens the entire room.
I talk to her so many times
Maybe at the beach or at the park
Anytime I most need to be saved
I call on my rainbow in the dark.

Daniel

by

David Wayne Oakes

As a child he was different
His speech set him apart
His parents had never noticed
That his tongue was very tied.
He was ridiculed by those who heard
Speech which would emanate from him
But could understand not a word.
He was tortured by those around him
Because he was intelligent and gentle
Kind and sincere and different.
He was abused in many ways as a child
And suffered his whole life to the end.
He hid himself behind artificial images
Created or induced in artificial ways
So he could pretend they couldn't hurt him
Though he hurt badly every day.
I will never be able to forgive all those
Who have tortured Daniel or anyone else
To the point of preferring the peace of death
Rather than the constant pain of life.
And I may never forgive myself either
For not being there at the time he died.
The ironic thing is that all the times he tried
To eliminate his own life and failed,
He was struck down at an early age
Just when he decided he wanted to live.
It doesn't seem natural in this screwed up world
When a younger brother dies before you
But I hope he will always know how much I cared
And how I will always truly miss him.

Rage

by

David Wayne Oakes

When I see small children
Too old for their age
Because they have been abused
I rage
Seeing people who get their joy
And all hyped up and in a craze
Because they can hurt others
I rage
Against the hatred of small minds
Who seem to think through a haze
Hating only religion or color or race
I rage
For all those who are abused
By a system which is meant to gauge
How best to fulfill their dreams
I rage
When I see the importance of money
To those whose would sit around and laze
While people die by the millions
I rage
Because of all the apathy I see
In those who refuse to gaze
Upon all the injustice surrounding us
I rage