Poems from the Past: How Can I Tell Them - A Story in Verse
Originally published in Eugene, OR | Spring 1980.
Dear Readers,
Some of my earliest subscribers may remember these poems, which had been tucked away in a folder for many years until I published them on my original 'Stack, Life UnCorked last year.
I decided to republish them here on The Talking Pen which is focused on the creative writing side of things..
The poems in this series were written in 1980 - 1981 during a period of life transition. I had been drifting through life with no thought of direction except partying hard and having a good time.
My Navy years at various bases in Europe did nothing to counter that pursuit.
By the time my enlistment was up, I had grown weary of the party life. My last duty station was in California, so I headed North to Eugene, OR desperately looking for some meaning to life.
It was in Eugene that I developed an interest in writing. I can now look back and see how the poems in this series providentially reflected my quest for answers.
Ultimately, this thirst was satisfied by Christ in June of 1981.
You can find that whole account in this short memoir:
HOW CAN I TELL THEM is the first piece, written in January 1980, soon after I arrived in Eugene. It has been slightly revised for clarity.
HOW CAN I TELL THEM
I gave a party for my friends,
No one knew it was the end.
I thought to myself as they walked through the door,
If they only knew what I was searching for.
Back on the road, I would find new places.
The same old friends would be wearing new faces.
And each time would come the day,
Once again, I would be on my way.
Oh, how can I tell them that I’m bound to roam,
I couldn’t settle down ‘til I found a home.
And how can I tell them my time had come,
Tomorrow I would be gone.
They tried so hard to have a good time,
Takin’ tokes and drinkin’ wine.
They had no fear and I shed a tear.
I was leavin’ and they were staying behind.
Back on the road, I would find new places.
The same old friends would be wearing new faces.
And each time would come the day,
Once again, I would be on my way.
Oh, how can I tell them that I’m bound to roam,
I couldn’t settle down ‘til I found a home.
And how can I tell them my time had come,
Tomorrow I would be gone.
Because, I knew my search would never end,
‘Til I found an old face,
Wearing a new friend.
Thank you so much for reading and supporting The Talking Pen. While you’re here, check out my original ‘Stack: Life UnCorked, where we take a dive into the deep end of life from a Christian perspective.
Love the last line, Cork!