Poetry Of Darkness and Light

Soul Flicking
By Steven F. Boettcher

They look at me and stare,
I stare back with a dream
I wonder what they see
Is it me or a mirror?

They look at me so puzzled
I'm puzzled too, I'm a dreamer.
I seek out questions from their eyes
Am I the only one who knows...?

They search me looking for clues
I show them, I have no answers
I flick them my soul to see
If they all react the same.

I light my eyes and lick my wounds
I tell myself that the show ends soon
But that doesn't change the dream
that I see every day at every hour
for every second that I live.
So God beckons.  I flick him my soul.

They look at me and they wonder
I should be pleased, but I'm not.
I'm a dreamer, that is what I do
Does it hurt me to know?

They look at me and snicker
I haven't heard the joke, I'm in a show.
I flick them my soul again
I wonder if soul flicking is a crime?

They search my eyes, yet they don't see
I hid my dreams for only my kite and me
And so my soul frightens them all
Should I be happy, sad, unsure, or tall?

I turn my thumb up and practice my bit
I make my verdict and pledge myself
And I give in to my dreams
As I look to the west and I see my soul
Flying through the night and I wonder
Will flicking souls find answers? Who knows?



by Steven F. Boettcher

Boys are chilling
Boys are killing
Boys are raping
Boys are escaping
Boys with bombs
Boys in arms
Boys in gangs
Boys with fangs
Boys with knives
Boys taking lives
Boys in the hood
Boys playing with wood
Boys growing up to be men
Then doing it all over again.
Crazy boys killing friends
Stupid boys leaving loose ends
Dumb boys rowing a boat
Frozen boys don’t float
Preppy boys not caring about the King
Preppy boys doing that nasty thing
Boys growing up to be men
Then doing it all again

Boys just looking
Boys get caught crooking
Boys with boys in raids
Boys with boys getting Aids
Boys with girl in bed
Girl in hospital bed or dead.
Boys with drugs
Boys without hugs
Boys getting high
Boys are going to die
Boys getting drunk
Boys will flunk
Boys for hire
Boys setting fire
Boys up to no good
Boys not doing as they should
Boys being rude
Boys being lewd
Boys watching TV
Boys with no potential to be
Boys becoming men
And then doing it all over again.



Goodbye Oma
by Steven F. Boettcher

For years you have been always there
We took you for granted
Did anybody care?
Now you are gone
And I feel so sad.
I miss you Oma
I hope you can forgive me
For not visiting you,
But I wanted too. 

Goodbye Oma.
I love you.


Running out of time
by Steven F. Boettcher

At the moment when the clock
is about to stop and you think
you know what the future holds,
you pause,
a slight hesitation,
and you think,
and you wonder aloud
as if you were not alone,
but you know
that there isn't a soul,
within five parsecs from you,
who cares,
it is at that precise moment when,
that nagging feeling engulfs you,
and you feel that your time has run out.



By Steven F. Boettcher

(The beginning)

In the darkness of the void
A voice was heard
Then from darkness there was light
A choir so bright
And the earth had come into being
The sky was made for seeing
And the trees of green
And life had seen
From the waters that surround.


It was then that Man
Was created and all
The powers bowed to
Man, but one refused,
For Lucifer was a being
of light and Man of clay,
had led a rebellion in the
Halls of God, for he thought that he was
Better, but God hurled Lucifer
and the rebels out of Heaven
and into the depths of Hell.

(Adam, Lilith, Eve and Lucifer)

In the garden stood Adam
Alone. Sober. Grave.
And Lilith was begotten?.
She was like a flower to Adam
But aloof and secretive.
The garden was too small for
Both to endure, so Lilith departed
Into the night. Fading? Fading.
And Adam was alone again.
Then God created Eve from Adam
And for Adam and Adam
Was happy, but in the darkness
Grew envy, and Lucifer
Called to Lilith and they plotted
Against Adam and Eve
for they were jealous;
Lilith envied Eve because
She was childless and unloved.
And Lucifer was jealous of Adam
For Adam lived in paradise
And he was banished to Hell.
So Lucifer disguised himself
As a serpent and Lilith as a
Demon of the night.


Adam and Eve disobeyed God's decree
For the serpent tricked into eating
The forbidden fruit and they
Were banished from the garden.
But they prospered and had many children
And Lilith was enraged.
She vowed to haunt the darkest of nights
And prey on lost children
For she had no children of her own.


To this day
Beware of the dark
For if you hear
a terrifying screech
be for warned,
it is not a screech owl
but the lonely cry of Lilith?
and be sure to hold tight
to your children.


A Long Time
by Steven F. Boettcher

It may have been a long time ago
and I may have forgotten a thing or two
(alright, maybe a bit more than that)
but over the years that have passed
I never got over losing you.

How can I overcome my fear
of my pending mortality
(gee, I guess immortality is not an option)
when I feel my fate, like yours,
is but an ever assured eventuality?

So why do I still think of you?
You were only a part of my life for a short time
(though, those years weren't insignificant)
yet it still hurts when I think of you,
is that such a crime?

Sometimes I still talk to you,
and hope that you hear me.
(I know, but I was always a dreamer)
Yet I still wish for answers
that don't come from within me.

I still miss you, father,
I know I always will.
(I hope you miss me, too)
So, if I am ever deep in thought,
I may be thinking of you, still.


Crossing the Boundary
by Steven F. Boettcher

I've crossed the boundary
to a land unknown
beyond Earth

Knowing that my search is fruitless
You of all, should know what I mean
Letting you disappear
Everything never to be the same.

Very well,
Answers are tougher than questions
Never knowing, most difficult of all
Do you ever dream?
Eternity seems so endless
Right down to my despair
Careful not to step out into fire
Only to trespass in Hell
Right at the beginning of
Emptiness that is the city.

Welcome to the nightmare
Right in the middle of my head.
I am madness
Total eclipse of sanity
Everyone knows I'm insane.

by Steven F. Boettcher

I am thinking of black;
A darkness;
Engulfing me -
A corruption of reality
Coupled with anxiety
Bottled for all the world to see;
A lunatic’s luxury;

A mental catastrophe,
A depressionists masterpiece;
A work of no cease
A life without a lease
A heart that cannot crease
A soul that can’t find peace
When full of disease
A love tease
A hacking wheeze
A footnote in the breeze
Why can’t I be at ease
When all I think is black?



by Steven F. Boettcher

Do you remember Challenger, Sixto
When we shared our grief and shock
On the telephone
Feeling so alone? 

Do you remember the towers, Lore
When we shared our grief and shock
On the telephone
Not wanting to be alone? 

Now Columbia has shattered in the sky
Heroes not needing to die
Investigators figuring out why
Friends and family saying goodbye. 

Going to space is a triumph of mankind
No braver souls, could humanity find
Needing to explore, being of one mind
Questions to answer, solutions to find.

A prayer goes out to the Columbia seven
Who have soared to heaven
The brave men and women
Who have left the future open. 

Will we remember, Lore,
Beyond our grief and shock
The lives of the seven

Who now explore heaven?


Brave Souls
by Steven F. Boettcher

Like a star,
Bright and far
Falling through the sky
Not knowing they would die.

A missing tile
In the 40th mile
Could be the cause
Lets take a moment and pause….

Remember the seven
Now in heaven

Brave souls
Brave souls.



Not Human At All
by Steven F. Boettcher

Humans are animals
That’s what they say
Don’t care for another
In any way

Raping and killing
Just a basic animal fact
No regards for others
In how they act. 

Humans are not animals
That is what I say
We have morals and laws
To help us through the day.

I say you are cowards and liars
When you kill and rape
You’re nothing but monsters
You can’t hide or escape 

This is for the lads
At Christ The King
You can go to Hell
For your raping . 

This is for all that kill
And rape and hurt
And all other heinous crimes
And don’t think this is curt. 




By Steven F. Boettcher

 Will it ever end?
The wishes of the poor
Or the greed of the rich
The hunger of the starved
Or the hunger of the glutton?

 When I think of all the things that I have done
I wonder why I am still alive?
What part in life am I still to fulfill?
What is my role? Why am I still here?


No Answers!

Yet, I feel a pull to spirituality
That I have long ignored
As if I had my eyes ripped open
And I have come face to face
With my demons.

But I am still scared.

I faced my demons, but have I conquered them?

I need to continue my quest for resolution to my questions.
Will it be with God?  Dead poets?
Or will the Good Doctor provide me with the answers that I seek.

I came close to Mordor. I don’t ever want to return.
Can it be that I never escaped?
Or have I entered the dreams of slaves?

 I feel like a bald Samson.

Yet, I have hope.

Although the two towers have fallen
I can see a phoenix rising from the debris.
I can’t imagine living through that hell,
But people survived.

I will survive, too.

And as I write this, the path has shown itself.
I may not have answers, but I know where I am going.
As long as I follow that path, straight I know, I will see the light.


The Clumsy Knight
by  Steven F. Boettcher

Sir Smathingworth
Was a clumsy knight,
His armor dented,
His outlook bright

No one in all the land
Was as noble as he
He was the greatest of all,
The bravest as can be.

But when he went to slay
A wild boar so scary
He tripped and fell
And squashed a canary.

He felt so bad,
But he could not say a word
When he realized that
It was the princess' bird.

As he bent down to pick up the bird
For in is hilt he tucked his sword
But he missed the hilt
And stabbed his Lord.

His Lord fell down
with a cry
Sir Smathingworth turned in horror
thinking his Lord would die.

But the Lord did not die
For his wound was slight
Though it gave
Sir Smathingworth a fright.

As he helped his Lord
To his feet,
It was here that
That the beast and he would meet.

A battle was fought
through holler and call
The beast was down
In no time at all.

The Lord was so happy
he threw a feast in the great hall
Sir Smathingworth had the honor
To carve bacon and ham for all.


A Bluebird by any other name...
by Steven F. Boettcher

I saw a bluebird flying
I heard the bluebird crying
'cause it had no name,
what a shame,
so I called the bluebird Robin


Bluebird revisited...or Who am I?
by Steven F. Boettcher

I gave a bluebird a name
it seemed happy to know
who it was.

I've had a name nearly all my life
(except, of course, when I was first born
and was only known as son #2 until
Steven was finally chosen, then again,

some say life begins at conception,
so I had no name for nearly nine months
and was often referred to as "the baby")

yet to this day,
I still don't know who I am


My Words
by Steven F. Boettcher
I swish it

I swish it around in my mouth
I spit it
I spit it out of my mouth.

I keep it
I keep it hidden in my head
I leave it
I leave it locked up in my head.

My words, my thoughts
I can't say a thing
My words, my thoughts
I can't let them out.

But when I do
They don't resemble
The words in my head
These words are not mine
Whose are they?

Are they yours?