Roy W. Backes – Poetry

Searching

He joined book clubs and health clubs,
He volunteered his time
To help those in need.
He hung out at bars till 2:00am
Too many times to mention.
He walked the streets
Both day and night,
Mile after mile
All the while searching.
Searching for her.
Searching for someone.

No matter where he looked.
No matter where he went,
No matter how many clubs he joined
He always ended up
Back where he began.
Alone.
And searching.

Roy W. Backes
© 2021

Into My Past

I head west into the setting sun.
One hand shading my eyes from the glare,
The other hand planted firmly on the wheel
Keeping me on the straight and narrow.
I glance at my rear-view mirror and
See my past following closely behind.
I mentally edit the bucket list
Of things I have yet to complete.
The list is longer than I had hoped.
Not quite ready to face the darkness of night
I begin searching for an exit.
One not listed on the map,
One that will turn me around
And put the setting sun at my back.
One that will put me on the straight and narrow
Heading directly into my past.

Roy W. Backes
© 2014

The Train West

I’m standing on the East Coast
Waiting to board a West Coast train.
Who knows how long the trip will be.
No matter.
I look forward to the long luxurious ride.
I look forward to the clack, clack of the wheels
On the track,
Hypnotic music to my ears.
I look forward to the periodic
Blow of the horn as we pass
Through town after town.
Each whistle a tonic for my soul.
I look forward to the colors of
The passing landscapes,
A feast for my eyes.
Who knows how long this trip will be.
No matter.
I’ll just sit back and enjoy
The ride toward the setting sun
And it’s golden reflection
On the bright blue sea.

Roy W. Backes
© 2020

A Random Act of Kindness

There is a reason they call it random.
These acts come from the
Most unexpected places.
Mine came the day the
Corporation left me high and dry.
Left my 45 minutes from a
Replacement rental with
No hint of help.
They left me on the side of the road,
Trucks roaring by
Dust flying in my face.

Then he arrived
With his tow truck,
His grandson and his dog.
He was towing the car to a garage.
With the car on the hook,
He looked at me with kindness
And asked, “How you gonna’ get 
To Green Bay?”
I looked him in the eye and said,
“To be honest, I have no idea.”
He wiped his hands on his
Filthy jeans, smiled at his grandson
And said, “Ah, shoot.  Hop in.
I’ll drive you down to Green Bay.
Can’t leave you standing here.”
So, I squeezed into his wrecker.
We dropped the car at a local garage and
Then stopped at his junkyard
So we could swap the wrecker 
For a sedan.  “Better mileage.”
50 minutes later
This kind hearted tow truck driver,
Along with his grandson and his dog
Dropped me at the rental location.
With deep thanks I shook his hand,
Said goodbye to his grandson,
Gave a pat to the dog
And dropped some cash onto his
Shotgun seat.

Random acts of kindness.
They come from the most
Unexpected places.

		With deep thanks to Tom Soukup
			   Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin

Roy W. Backes
© 2021

I Never Get Tired of That Sound

I can sit on the deck for hours on end,
Or work in the yard all day long,
As long as I have the sound of the surf
Playing behind me like a natural symphony.

No matter how long I sit.
No matter how long I work,
I never get tired of that sound.
The sound of the surf
Breaking on the beach
That constantly plays music for my ears
While I work and
While I play.

I never get tired of that sound.

Roy W Backes
© 2021

Not Tonight

Deep in the middle of the night
The phone rings.  She answers,
Knowing that it could only be bad news.

She sits in the bright light of her bedroom,
In tears, in pain,
In need of her lover.

She calls his number
Needing to hear his voice…..
Instead, she hears his wife’s.

Not tonight.  She can’t share him tonight.
She’s been his lover for years,
Spent years alone, waiting for his call.

Every morning she wakes up alone.
She can’t be alone tonight.
She needs him to help her fight.

She sits in her car under the streetlight
Staring at his home, with the wraparound porch,
And him, asleep with his wife.

No. Not tonight.
She stands on his porch,
Bangs on his door and cries out his name.

No. Not tonight.
She can’t share him tonight.
She won’t share him tonight.


Roy W. Backes
© 1999

Peace and Quiet

I walk this path
In search of some peace and quiet.
I’ve managed to find the quiet.
Nature’s quiet.
The gentle breeze blowing through the trees.
The distant sound of a stream.
The chatter and movement of small creatures.
No sounds of man
To be heard anywhere.
I continue my walk deeper into the forest
Surrounded by nature’s quiet
But still in search
Of some peace.

Roy W. Backes
© 2021

Reflection

The morning sun reflects
Off of the gray-blue lake
Like an emptied bag of diamonds
On black velvet.
It calms my mind and
Allows me to reflect.
Staring at the sparkling light
Is a form of meditation
Taking me deeper and deeper
Into the present,
Allowing me to access the past.
A past with few regrets
And many, many bright lights,
Like the morning sun
Reflecting off of a gray-blue lake.

Roy W. Backes
© 2016

When Panic Attacks

When panic attacks
It attacks with a vengeance.
Like a Medieval army it comes in waves.
It will take your breath away
Forcing you to gulp for air.
It will pump your heart
Like a triple shot of espresso.
It will blind your eyes
So you can’t see.
It will blur your mind
So you can’t think.
It will shake your hands
Like someone handed you a vibrator.

When panic attacks
It attacks with a vengeance.
It attacks quick.
It attacks with strength.
It leaves you shaken, breathless,
Blind and helpless.
So, keep your ears primed
For the sound of its approach
And don’t forget to breathe.

Roy W. Backes
© 2021

Alibis and Lies

Her deceit came ever so
Slowly into focus.
Her touch came less often,
And when it did it felt
Like a lie.
More nights away at ‘work’.
The faint aroma of
Soap and cologne when she
Walked through the door.
Slowly he collected
The alibis and lies.
He catalogued them.
He filed them.
He wept over them.
The alibis and lies
Came slowly into focus
Till he finally
Said goodbye.

Roy W. Backes
© 2021