Trust No One

Don't really remember where I was mentally when I wrote this one, but it was not a pleasant place from what I can tell from reading this.

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Echoes of Eternity

Another poem I wrote as part of a college class. Its tough not to look for the worst in myself, but I gotta remember that not everybody sees me the way I see myself.

Before me a mirror reflects a man, a crude block of stone

on which appears no master’s mark, nor blade on which to hone.

The jagged edges and cracks of strain, a statue yet unformed

denies existence of foundries far from whence itself was torn.

Never to be a majestic peak or monument of kings,

nor hallowed chapel that from within a throng of angels sing.

I must at once unlock the stare, the mirror cannot lie.

Through my own eyes the truth be seen, a hopeless mass abides.

To place a mirror behind me though, the mystery reveals.

I see now more than my own face, posterity fulfilled.

The eyes of my children look to me, I stand much taller now.

Their rock of safety in the storm, my strength to them I show.

Reflected are also ancestral lines of generations, past

fathers and mothers whisper as the breeze among grass.

Hereditary drawings in the caverns of the stone

when deciphered and interpreted give power to their own.

For with a mirror in front and back, reflections never cease.

The chain of life extends beyond the realm the eyes can see.

I view again that slab of rock, raw yet opportune,

recalling its noble birthright from the mount that it was hewn.

It must withstand the storms of time to reach its destined form.

Tears of rain and angry winds give shape where once was none.

All the while unknowingly bearing the master’s mark-

a polished gem, one day to become more than a mere ember in the dark.

by Derek Herzberg

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Puerto Nuevo

I actually wrote this poem as part of a college course. Not my usual style nor subject matter but I ended up really liking this one. The coast has been an annual vacation for nearly every year of my life. I find it peaceful and rejuvenating, and yet mysterious and  foreboding. The ocean almost seems to beckon me to wade out until I'm forever lost in the tide.

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