My Poetic Thread

Brought up a box of Archives from the utility room. (There is an amusing ancedote about this which I may post later, if I remember.) I lifted the lid to see what was inside and was immediately met with three magenta posters from the last play I was in, maybe twenty years ago now. The one poster is signed by cast members. They were all thanking me for "carrying the show". I remember getting a standing ovation during the Friday performance, but I don't recall carrying the show. I wasn't even on stage that much. Sadly, I'm only able to make out five signatures. Some wrote their names so poorly I can't read them. On used initials. I'll have to wait until I come across an actual program to figure out who "BR" is. Tickets were only $3.50 for adults and $2.50 for students. Not bad for an evening's entertainment.

Oh, the play was Neil Simon's, FOOLS.

Found a couple of old newspapers I saved. One is from January 14, 1978. Hubert Humphrey had died. Whatever one thinks of his politics, he was good for Minnesota. The other paper is from March 27, 1979. Anwar Sadat and Menachem Begin had signed a treaty. There is a photograph of Jimmy Carter shaking hands with Begin while Sadat sits laughing happily at their side.

Next came a couple of Leadership and Team Building pieces from when I was a Project Lead in the early 90s. I recall managment didn't like my style and replaced my methods with a more authoritarian approach.

Then came a projected schedule for The Freelancer, a magazine devoted to writing I wanted to start up fifteen or twenty years ago. I'd still like to do that, but d*mn it, things cost money. Why?

I've only dipped in two inches, but now I've found something I find interesting. It is an old legal pad, yellow now (that's not fair - the pad was always yellow), which contains several ideas for Swords of Fire, Spargeld the Magnificent, The Power, The Caves of Argorland, The Quest, The Legions of Encarrah, The Dead The Dying and The Stranger, Shaden's World, The Seven Helmets of Shirdu, Home is Where the Heart Is, Day's End, and The Voyageurs.

There are four pages devoted of character descriptions for The Other Side of Life. There is a single page for my play, The Monsters. I had written it back in 1976 when I was a student at Bethel College in Arden Hills, MN. That copy was somehow lost, and I have wanted to reproduce it ever since. Never have.

The top page has a rough drawing of my Eyeglass House, and my Y House.

But it is Page Two which moved me to write this post. (Oh, great, your thinking. Over 400-words and Bevie hasn't even got to the point yet.) It's a poem. Untitled and without a date. I've read it a couple of times and I'm guessing it is from the 1980s, or the early 90s. What I find interesting is that the poem seems so apropos to my life today. The spirit isn't an exact match, but it's d*mn close. The difference is the presence of friends today.

The poem's untitled, so I'm going to attach one quickly.

When Doom Calls
by Bevie James

The voice of doom is calling
It hails across the way
It warns of sorrow coming
The night which follows day

I cry to the Lord in weeping
Joy has fled my heart
I lack the strength for keeping
For that I fall apart

Where are friends for comfort
From where will come the peace
Darkness is so overwhelming
to a heart that craves release

The weeping sobs are silent
The tears are dry and cold
And hope fades to confusion
And the spirit ages old

I long to see my Lord
I long to see his face
But I've failed as his servant
I've stumbled in the race

And now I grieve with sorrow
My heart aches all alone
The Spirit calls to Jesus
to come and take me home

To this, I can add the following:

Again I hear Doom's voice
It fills my heart with thirst
But I am not alone again
So I can take his worst

Perhaps not a good addition, but I want to say I am ready to face whatever is coming, even though I do not know what it is.

Whether I stay or go, there are people who like me. In my book that means I've already won.

Thank you, friends.