Secrets of the Past

Dark fall days, night falls early
Mountains loom black, against an indigo sky
First star of the evening, twinkles brightly in the west
People scurry home, like squirrels scampering to their nests
Early Christmas decorations, light up the avenues
Window shoppers gaze expectantly, at toys in store windows
Strangers pass in the night, mouthing holiday greetings
Houses in the neighborhoods, cozy and warm
Yet something’s not right, not quite definable
Could it be something else, too dark to share?
Hiding secrets of the past; tortured memories in today.


Chuck Connors, November 18, 2009

Pass This Way

Blue, blue farscape,
Wave upon wave of mountains.
What others strode here before me?
Did they marvel at what they saw?

Earth seems so empty,
Trackless forests, fields and hills.
I feel the spirits of the old ones
As they pass this way still.

Chuck Connors, November 21, 2009

Dress Rehearsal

Little girl running on the sidewalk, how far from your mother will you go?
Is running a dress rehearsal for adulthood?
Or is it just a game,
Something only a child would know?

Skipping back and forth on the sidewalk
A little further every time
Seems like so much of my life
Has been wasted on song and wine

And when I vacillated so much
Not sure of what to do
Shying away like a young fool
From a lover’s gentle touch

Little girl running away from her mother
So pure and innocent still
All of us running away from something
Things hidden too well from each other

All of us run on the sidewalk
A poignant leave-taking we all must make
Leavings are full of heartbreak
A journey we all must take


Chuck Connors, October 30, 2009

Who You Really Are

Whenever I think of you
It’s always your wonderful eyes
Windows of the soul
Love lights on the world

At times I’ve seen your anger
Flashing eyes, storm clouds and wind
Other times I see the hurt and pain
The past re-played again

Our eyes show our soul-strength
The strength to hold to life itself
A tremendous strength of will
Who of us perseveres, only time will tell?

Through your eyes sometimes I see the joy,
A girl’s heart shining through
Now the loving, caring woman
Someone special and brand new


Chuck Connors, November 8, 2009

Second Life

Past the midnight hour, way into the small hours of the night
I sit staring into the blackness, pondering what’s wrong and what’s right
Should I have grimaced and told the truth, risking all on trust and empathy
Or told sweet lies with a straight face, getting what I want without frippery

No answers come this late, only questions seem to grow
The pain of living hits me hardest when I’m all alone below
My only chance is to help another—someone facing more pain than I
When I give my hope to others—it takes away the lie

And when the sun finally rises, another chance will come my way
Receiving the opportunity, sharing hope for another day
I finally shed my guilt and pain, renewed in heart and form
A second life I’m given, for today I am reborn


Chuck Connors, November 1, 2009

How I escaped from the craft store with my masculinity intact

Editor’s note: This is a work of autobiographical fiction. Some of the facts have been changed to protect the dumb, foolish and outright scared.

I was taken to the craft store the other day searching for Halloween costume brick-a brack. Two other wusses, I mean men were there and they were obviously terrified.
As they were pulled along by their female captors they had anxious fearful looks on their faces which shouted silently, “Help Me!” Glancing over my shoulder, I caught them, like me, making furtive, trapped glances towards the exits hoping to catch an unwatched moment by their torturers so that they could make a last ditch dash for freedom and the life of blissful masculinity that they once knew.

Despite my protests I was dragged further into the suffocating, poisonous atmosphere of scrap booking sets and evil-looking Vanna White crocheting books and I immediately became lost trying to discover the “finding” aisle (whatever that is). Although my lady friend Catherine had explained several times, “oh it’s where the beads and bangles, clasps and pins—bracelet wires of every description and a whole lot of other neat stuff are.” All of this useless information (to me) was enough to make my head swim with strange forbidden thoughts such as, “my isn’t that pink bauble thingy pretty” and “ oh, how that color goes so well with that other color on that shiny fabric.” Needless to say she grabbed me roughly by the arm and pulled me towards my impending doom. Fortunately, just as I thought that I was going to have to call my local community college and enroll in the home decorator classes Catherine said looking at me sadly, “well, since you’re sooo hungry I guess we’d better go if we’re going to get a seat at the restaurant before it closes.”

As we were leaving the woman at the cash register took my money for the costume ‘gee gaws’ I had gotten and said “ya’ll come back now, okay?” I smiled a nervous smile at her and stuffing my change hurriedly into my pocket, rushed for the front doors flanked by the huge black cat statues hoping desperately that the electronic locks would let me through. Thankfully they malfunctioned and I broke free into the cool, masculine-redeeming night only a somewhat tainted man—for now. Happy Halloween ya’ll!

Chuck Connors, October 24, 2009

Dream Girl

I catch brief glimpses of you late at night when I fall asleep.
In my dreams we pass each other, your hair flying in the wind.
Your eyes shine with excitement and
You boldly laugh at the promise of a new day.
Waiting for you seems like forever.
Yet I must wait, for there can be no other.
Will we ever meet dream girl? Or will we smile and pass each other,
Moving on to other worlds and dreams?


Chuck Connors, October 22, 2009