poem

“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

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

AI Image

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

AI Image

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

/ Ed Raby Sr / Leave a comment

Happy Sol’s Day!

AI Image

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!!!