Poetry

“Fearful Heart” – A Poem

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

Fearful Heart – A Poem by Ed Raby, Sr.

Was I ever loved?
Maybe I was—but I don’t know.
In the end, the feeling that I was loved
Seemed an illusion,
A magician’s sleight of hand.

The first time, I understood
The departed’s why.
I loved her—
She couldn’t find the lover’s sigh.

The second time was long,
Accompanied by wedding bells.
But I saw no concern for me
In my children’s mother’s eyes.

The third time was forbidden—
An affair of the heart, rare as flame.
But her playing with my soul
Left me afraid to love again.

My heart is wary,
Bruised by loving and not being loved.
I don’t know if I can stand
Another fall.

Scars whisper softly:
“Please… not again.”

Writer’s Notes:

This poem actually came to Mind as I was driving home today. I was feeling very alone. Sometimes, even when that is not true, it still hits me. I have been wondering why I have become more reclusive, and pouring myself into my second job of being a writer and creator of YouTube content, there seems to be little room anymore for romance or finding love. Then one phrase struck me: ‘You’re afraid still of getting hurt again.’ Then the rest poured out into this poem like black blood.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

“Skipping Stones” – A Poem

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Happy Mani’s Day!

As a toddler boy, I stood in awe of my Dad skipping stones.

As a small boy, my dad taught me to skip stones

As a larger boy, I skipped stones while my Dad watched

As a teenage boy, I skipped stones to get away from my Dad

As a young man, I had no time to skip stones; more important things to do.

As a dating man, I skipped stones after the lover’s embrace

As a married man, I once again had no time to skip stones

As a new Dad, I skipped stones while my toddler watched in awe

As a Dad, I taught my son to skip stones

As a Dad, I watched with pride as my son skipped stones.

As a middle-aged man, I once again had no time to skip stones – building a career

As an older man. I daydreamed of skipping stones while hard at work

As a retired man, I finally have a chance to skip stones with my grandchildren

As an old man, I watch others skip stones, wishing I still had the strength to do so.

In death, my last thought is me skipping stones, while Dad watches on.

Writer’s Notes:

This one came out of the blue when, at work, I was thinking about my dad around Father’s Day. I remember a time when we were at a lake and my mom and him were watching me skip stones. I suppose then it is a belated Father’s Day poem.

That said, I wanted this poem to be a little more universal to a lot of men who have similar memories. Its style is more about a timeline of feelings about skipping stones. It’s probably more of a meditation than a poem. I hope everyone enjoys it.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

So What Will I Be Writing Here?

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

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Happy Woden’s (Odin’s) Day!

Coming back after such a long hiatus has actually been a wonderful feeling for me. But at the same time, it leaves many questions for you, the gentle reader, and me. Mostly, what am I going to write now that I am back?

In the past, this was an everyday blog with different styles or topics of posts for each day, but I no longer think I want to do that. I simply don’t have that kind of time. I am also learning more and more what my autistic brain likes and dislikes. If I were to explain it, on the one hand, I like routine and order to things, but on the other hand, if I feel that it goes beyond my own free choices or is more expected of me, I tend to rebel a little to that, and it becomes a drag. I am now sure that a lot of my desire for autonomy stems from this autistic defiance, sometimes of even my own unconscious defiance of my own plans. I am still scratching the surface of this issue, so forgive me if it doesn’t make sense, and I could be wrong.

So then, practically, if I want to write regularly and have a routine to it, what am I going to write that will allow me to do that? Let’s just stick to ‘the what’ for now. How is something I might have to be both flexible and routine about, which I want to talk about data later time.

  1. Poems – Despite the smaller tweak of pain I get from a broken heart every time I write one, I also get this sense of emotional expression and relief from writing poems that I find beneficial.
  2. Short Stories – Short stories are always experiments with new characters, concepts, genres, etc. But sometimes, they are good stand-alone posts.
  3. Essays – I do have thoughts on things, but I will say that on The Grey Wayfarer, two topics will probably not be discussed – religion and politics. I have other places to express those.
  4. Fiction Series – I love doing series, and I actually have an idea for a new one that might be like some others I have done with no clear end in sight. plus a few others.
  5. Journaling – Occasional – ‘where am I’ posts help me a lot.

My ultimate goal is therapy and feeling even better. But you never know when good writing project that might get published will come up.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Black Dried Salty Tears – A Poem

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Happy Sol’s Day!

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Black Dried Salty Tears – Poem

Black

Poison, Night, Your Heart

Dried

Corpse, Riverbed, Winter Leaves

Salty

Soil, Bitterness, My Wounds

Tears

Of Sorrow, Of Regret, Of Lost Love

Writers Notes:

There are a lot of firsts in this post – It’s the first post after a long hiatus where I have been growing my YouTube Channel – The Rabyd Atheist, and trying to put my life together since discovering a lot of things about myself. I note some of the last writing I did was about my autism discovery and all that goes with it. It’s been a bit, but that part has opened more understanding of myself, and I deal with life more positively, and depression (referred to on this blog as ‘The Grey’) is much more manageable now. Not much has changed otherwise, but I am happier and my mental health is more manageable.

But I have missed writing. My favorite form of therapy is writing. Turning thoughts and feelings into poems, stories, and essays has been missing, and I feel now that on other fronts are better, maybe, just maybe, writing might take me to even better states of mind.

I also feel that I am expanding who I am on other fronts.

YouTuber – yes.

Influencer – Yes.

Writer -?

I feel it is time to genuinely add this one.

This poem, like all my poems, comes with a cost of writing. That throbbing of a wound made seven years ago by someone I loved very much, only to discover it was just a game to them. But she taught me to write better poems, and so I feel that was something positive that came out of the relationship. I just wish the scar she left on my heart would stop stinging when I write a poem.

This poem, in particular, was my recent exploration of how I now feel about this relationship after seven years of no contact. It was also my first use of a style of poem I haven’t used before. Single words followed by a list of others that the first word is a descriptor for, although I changed it up on the last one. Other than the form, I don’t think this one requires explanation.

Glad to be Back.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

“Lone Wolf” – A Poem

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

Happy Freya’s Day!

“Like a Wolf

I am drawn to the pack

But I walk alone

Outside its embrace

I am and am not

Part of the pack

I watch over them

High on the hill

Safe in my sight they will be,

I stand alone to be stronger

Stronger than the pack

Stronger for the pack

Loneliness is the price I pay

So they can be free

So Lone Wolf

I stay and howl alone

in Luna’s face

Until THE She-wolf finds me.”

Writer’s Notes:

I wish Miss Salty had not taught me to touch my feelings with words at times. I have a love-and-hate relationship with my poetry. Every time, I write one, I think of her, and it makes me sad. I wonder if anyone will ever walk beside me again like that.

The lone wolf analogy fits me so well these days. I do watch over the people I love and care for. I am always ready to come to their aid at any moment. But I feel like I am outside too. Just to watch over and not to participate. I feel the loneliness of solitude, but also understand its strength. I am stronger than the pack. But they have nothing to fear from me.

I now understand more and more that this feeling of being the one wolf most of my life was a part of my autism. I have felt like the odd person out for a very long time. Very few get into my heart. Once they do I am very vulnerable to them as I have found out with so many pains. I just wish I could find love again. Some days I wonder if I ever will.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

‘Love and Smoke’ – A Poem

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

Happy ’s Sol’s Day!

Love and Smoke!

I had a Dream Last Night

You Were There

You Smiled at Me and walked Away

I ran after you my heart pounding

Fires of passion burning

I reached out to touch your hand

But poof, smoke

Then Nothing but ash.

My fire turning to smoke

Writer’s Notes:

I haven’t written in a Long time. I have been concetrating on my YouTube Channel and learning to cope with my hypersensitivity, which has been and interesting journey of discovery.

This poem is actually based on a dream I had. I found myself in the woods and there she was in front of me – my old love – Miss Salty. In the dream I ran after her trying to catch her and then I finally got close enough to grab her hand. At that moment she turned and laughed and then faded into wisping smoke.

My feelings in the dream went from blazing to nothing. Fire to smoke, smoke to ash.

I wonder if I will ever find love again. I am a half a year away from becoming 55 and I wonder if love is even possible for me anymore. I miss it. The inspiration. The cuddles. The conversations. The sex. But where is it for me? Right now all I seem to have is memories and ash.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

“Solitary” – A Poem

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

Happy Mani’s Day!

“Solitary” – A Poem

I travel the world alone

Solitary

I search and wander

Solitary

I am not lost

Solitary

I look for knowledge and wisdom

Solitary

To protect what I love

Solitary

But I do it alone

Solitary

Because none but me should bear the cost.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

“Ruins” – A Poem

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

Happy Main’s Day!

“Ruins” by Edward W . Raby, Sr.

There was once life here

Now all is ruin

Window pains broken

Doorways with no doors

No roof.

We build this house brick by brick

Love was the mortar

We had children, raised them

We gave our love to them

Taking the mortar and giving it to them

Then they left.

We discovered the mortar of our love

Was cracked and crumbling – nothing.

But we had no time to reset it.

We continued to live giving it away

The roof collapsed

The bricks fell apart

We walked away

And now all is ruins.

A sad testimony to what was

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

“Wayfarer”

/ Ed Raby Sr / 1 Comment

Happy Tyr’s Day!

Wayfarer

Alone he walks

The snow crunches

beneath his feet.

He is the Wayfarer

The Walker of Paths

He wanders

But he is not lost.

He seeks

He looks for the wisdom

Of the old, the new

And his fellow travelers

Spear in hand for protection

His friends

Two ravens, Two wolves.

He wanders

He walks

He is the Wayfarer

Author’s commentary:

I fell in love with the imagery of Odin a long time ago. I however didn’t realize that is what the original myth was that I was enjoying because I was reading Lord of the Rings and the character was Gandalf, the Grey. But Tolkien took his inspiration from mythology and in this case Odin.

When I finally did get to Norse mythology as a teen the image of Odin appealed to me. The man leading his people trying to delay his fate and the fate of the Nine Worlds. Trying to delay Ragnorok. Warrior and Wizard all in one. The interesting thing is he doesn’t go out and build an army to fight but takes the role of a humble traveler looking not for strength, but knowledge.

I take for myself the moniker The Grey Wayfarer in honor of this inspiration and in truth this was my inspiration not just for this blog but also for some of my interests. I am a scholar and teacher but I lift weights with a warrior’s mind and discipline. I hike, you don’t get much more Wayfarer than that. I guess I came to see my self-image resonate with this image and this poem is a reflection of that.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!

Poem – “Dried Salt”

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

Happy Tyr’s Day!

“Dried Salt” – by Ed Raby, Sr.

My tears have dried

Dried salt on my face.

Once your salt gave me joy

But now the savor has ended

All that remains is your salt on my cheeks

Memories of pain and sorrow traced in saline.

Joy, Happiness, Anger, Sadness, Loss, Grief

My tears tell the story of my life.

A history written in briny lines.

I long now for new salt on my cheeks

Where fresh wetness returns made of Joy and Happiness

If only the memories of your dried salt would fade

Writer’s Commentary: I said yesterday that my muse of grief and loss from Miss Salty seemed to have dried up and this is mostly true I still have a weakness for every girl I have loved in my life so that weakness for her remains. True for even my first love and my ex-wife. I care about them all and all of them have caused tears. I suppose my love for all of them will never completely fade away. But only one of them got the name Miss Salty as a nickname.

I guess my problem is that my desire for a woman in my life is one that gives me peace and intimacy. Life is turmoil and cold so you want the home to be the opposite of that. The woman in your life as a man should bring peace and intimacy. It’s all I really want.

Poetry is hard for me still because it was Miss Salty who taught me the core of it and how to express myself so It seems every time that tinge will be there of sadness. Wondering what my poems would look like if there was joy behind that relationship instead of loss and sadness.

I remain.

The Rabyd Skald – Wandering Soul, Bard, and Philosopher.  The Grey Wayfarer.

Skal!!!