By Bobby Burcham.
Ladies, please beware of the man who says he only want to be your friend. It is better to get involved with the man who makes it clear that he only wants to use your body.
The one who says he only wants to be your friend is setting a clever trap for your heart and will torture your very soul. First, he will most likely be married and will never leave his wife. Or he will be married and cannot be faithful to his wife or to you either if he does leave her for you. Or he may be divorced and does not know how to develop a lasting relationship and that is why his last one failed.
The man who says he only wants to be your friend is a dangerous evil, or a mirage, wearing a mask. Yes if you listen to him long enough he will convince you that he is able to teach you true love. He will convince you that he is able to fulfill all your dreams and fantasies.
But in the end you will find he is an empty and lonely shell of a man, who can never be satisfied, and is filled with captured souls.
Ladies, beware of men who claim to only want to be your friend, and then start to get your sympathy. If you wish to learn more just email me.
But beware ladies, because I only want to be your friend.
Friday, September 28, 2007
True love is eternal
By bobby burcham,
When two people love each other,
And one person hurts the other,
It does not always mean,
That the person who offends,
Is cruel and unloving,
It can simply mean,
That true love
Makes the heart more tender,
And sensitive,
And therefore easier to hurt,
So if you love someone
Keep this in mind,
And don’t throw your love away,
Just because true love has made your heart
Tender and easier to feel pain,
Recognize the love and develop forgiveness,
And patience, and trust,
For the one you love.
For True Love is Eternal,
Don’t make it an eternity,Of pain and loneliness.
When two people love each other,
And one person hurts the other,
It does not always mean,
That the person who offends,
Is cruel and unloving,
It can simply mean,
That true love
Makes the heart more tender,
And sensitive,
And therefore easier to hurt,
So if you love someone
Keep this in mind,
And don’t throw your love away,
Just because true love has made your heart
Tender and easier to feel pain,
Recognize the love and develop forgiveness,
And patience, and trust,
For the one you love.
For True Love is Eternal,
Don’t make it an eternity,Of pain and loneliness.
Love is like a flame.
by bobby burcham
My love is like a flame
On the candle of my heart.
The flame can burn high,
And it’s a fragile thing.
A storm can blow it out,
But the candle is still there.
Another heart can light the wick
And another flame will appear.
Those who bring a storm are cruel,
But to them the flame is only lust,
They find it anywhere.
You have lit a flame on the candle of my heart,
Please don’t bring the storm,
Please don’t blow it out.
My love is like a flame
On the candle of my heart.
The flame can burn high,
And it’s a fragile thing.
A storm can blow it out,
But the candle is still there.
Another heart can light the wick
And another flame will appear.
Those who bring a storm are cruel,
But to them the flame is only lust,
They find it anywhere.
You have lit a flame on the candle of my heart,
Please don’t bring the storm,
Please don’t blow it out.
Blind Judges
by Bobby Burcham
Tired workers seeking shade from a burning sun,
Dry parched throats, welcome a few drops of cool water,
Lonely empty and hungry heart seek love,
The dead come to life only from magic or miracle.
Who can deny a tired worker a moments rest in the shade?
The dry parched throats a few drops of cool water,
A lonely empty and hungry heart friendly company,
Bringing life into the soul of the living dead.
What blind man can explain colors in words?
Or who can explain music to the deaf?
What can the dead teach the living,
To correct or to advise him?
If you have not loved, and lost, you can’t hear my words.
You will judge me with blind eyes and deaf ears.
You will judge me with a heart alien to the pain,
And the loneliness that eats at souls like a cancer.
Enjoy the grace of life that blinds you to the hunger
in my soul,
Enjoy the shield that not only protects you from the pain and torment,
But also from a love so powerful that it produces a temporary insanity,
The love that only comes to a few and only fewer still survives.
So if you are blind don’t judge colors,
If you are deaf don’t critique music,
If you are dead let the living learn themselves,
And let the lonely-hearts seek the love they crave.
Tired workers seeking shade from a burning sun,
Dry parched throats, welcome a few drops of cool water,
Lonely empty and hungry heart seek love,
The dead come to life only from magic or miracle.
Who can deny a tired worker a moments rest in the shade?
The dry parched throats a few drops of cool water,
A lonely empty and hungry heart friendly company,
Bringing life into the soul of the living dead.
What blind man can explain colors in words?
Or who can explain music to the deaf?
What can the dead teach the living,
To correct or to advise him?
If you have not loved, and lost, you can’t hear my words.
You will judge me with blind eyes and deaf ears.
You will judge me with a heart alien to the pain,
And the loneliness that eats at souls like a cancer.
Enjoy the grace of life that blinds you to the hunger
in my soul,
Enjoy the shield that not only protects you from the pain and torment,
But also from a love so powerful that it produces a temporary insanity,
The love that only comes to a few and only fewer still survives.
So if you are blind don’t judge colors,
If you are deaf don’t critique music,
If you are dead let the living learn themselves,
And let the lonely-hearts seek the love they crave.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Only the Lonely.
By Bobby Burcham
Only the lonely can truly know love.
And only those who have known love are the truly lonely.
We are not lonely because we never knew love,
But because we have known love and now it is gone.
Only love expands the heart
And when it is gone it created an empty void.
There is no loneliness like a heart,
That is void of the one it has loved.
It is a hunger that cannot be satisfied.
True, the heart can find someone else
And create a new place for them,
But they will open up a new area of our hearts.
We can accept them in our heart,
But the other void will never be filled.
Except by the one who had occupied it before.
Also, we will probably hurt the second person we love.
For we have a hunger for the first love that cannot be satisfied.
Those who have only loved and have not lost their first love cannot know this hunger.
They cannot understand why someone isn’t satisfied with one lover.
So if you have loved more than one,
Continue to open up you heart,
And don’t give up on true love.
For one day you may find a miracle called pure love,
A love so bright that it will satisfy all you hunger
And make you forget all the lost loves.
When you find this special love,
Don’t let go.
Only the lonely can truly know love.
And only those who have known love are the truly lonely.
We are not lonely because we never knew love,
But because we have known love and now it is gone.
Only love expands the heart
And when it is gone it created an empty void.
There is no loneliness like a heart,
That is void of the one it has loved.
It is a hunger that cannot be satisfied.
True, the heart can find someone else
And create a new place for them,
But they will open up a new area of our hearts.
We can accept them in our heart,
But the other void will never be filled.
Except by the one who had occupied it before.
Also, we will probably hurt the second person we love.
For we have a hunger for the first love that cannot be satisfied.
Those who have only loved and have not lost their first love cannot know this hunger.
They cannot understand why someone isn’t satisfied with one lover.
So if you have loved more than one,
Continue to open up you heart,
And don’t give up on true love.
For one day you may find a miracle called pure love,
A love so bright that it will satisfy all you hunger
And make you forget all the lost loves.
When you find this special love,
Don’t let go.
I saw Shirley today.
By bobby burcham
“Harold.” She always has to get my attention first.
“Yes Loren”, I try not to sound impatient.
“I saw Shirley today.”
“You did?” I know what she is talking about.
“I think she followed me up here. It looked just like her.”
There is silence as she goes to the window and looks out where she saw Shirley. I’m reading a magazine, trying not to think or feel.
“I really believe she missed me when I moved and she followed me up here, don’t you?” I swallow and honestly try to think of something positive to say. I finally agree, “I’m sure she did.”
“At least it looks just like her, she was brown and had white specks under her breast.” Loren is still looking out the window in the direction of the hedges that surround the nursing home.
“I just know it was Shirley. I moved away. It took her a long time to find me, but she finally found me.“ She pauses for a moment. “I miss her too. I miss all of my little friends. I had so many little friends. I fed them every day. Didn’t I Harold?”
It slips out before I think, “Yes, that’s the one thing you never forgot to do.”
I regret saying it and hope she didn’t hear or understand. I always hear every word she says, and even the ones she doesn’t say. She never says them all. When she wants something she always makes a riddle out of it, a ceremony of hints. I’ve always had to guess what she really means and what she really wants.
I can’t tell her that I am also afraid I will need to be in here soon. I can’t tell this other part of me that I don’t want her to be here either. I can’t tell a child these things, even if the child is nearly seventy.
Finally I can’t use the magazine to hide from my responsibilities any longer. I look up at her smiling out the window and think about when we met and the 50 good years we’ve had together. She is still very beautiful to me.
I think, ‘just to look at her and even to listen to her talk it is hard to believe that she has to be in a place like this.’
She is still standing looking dreamingly out the window smiling, and I know that she is thinking about the time before she came to the nursing home. But when she turns to look I can tell there is something wrong with her expression. She isn’t doing so well holding back her emotions. And there is a question in her eyes.
I say, “We could get you a bird feeder, would you like that? And put it right out side your window. I am sure they wouldn’t mind.”
Her gentle smile tells me I guessed correctly. Her face says it all. Happy tears began to roll down her cheek. I get up and walk toward her.
“I will feed them every day, Harold, even when it snows.”
“Yes, you always did. You never failed.” I feel my eyes burning. I can’t let her see me wipe the tears away, so I hold her tightly.
“Harold.” She always has to get my attention first.
“Yes Loren”, I try not to sound impatient.
“I saw Shirley today.”
“You did?” I know what she is talking about.
“I think she followed me up here. It looked just like her.”
There is silence as she goes to the window and looks out where she saw Shirley. I’m reading a magazine, trying not to think or feel.
“I really believe she missed me when I moved and she followed me up here, don’t you?” I swallow and honestly try to think of something positive to say. I finally agree, “I’m sure she did.”
“At least it looks just like her, she was brown and had white specks under her breast.” Loren is still looking out the window in the direction of the hedges that surround the nursing home.
“I just know it was Shirley. I moved away. It took her a long time to find me, but she finally found me.“ She pauses for a moment. “I miss her too. I miss all of my little friends. I had so many little friends. I fed them every day. Didn’t I Harold?”
It slips out before I think, “Yes, that’s the one thing you never forgot to do.”
I regret saying it and hope she didn’t hear or understand. I always hear every word she says, and even the ones she doesn’t say. She never says them all. When she wants something she always makes a riddle out of it, a ceremony of hints. I’ve always had to guess what she really means and what she really wants.
I can’t tell her that I am also afraid I will need to be in here soon. I can’t tell this other part of me that I don’t want her to be here either. I can’t tell a child these things, even if the child is nearly seventy.
Finally I can’t use the magazine to hide from my responsibilities any longer. I look up at her smiling out the window and think about when we met and the 50 good years we’ve had together. She is still very beautiful to me.
I think, ‘just to look at her and even to listen to her talk it is hard to believe that she has to be in a place like this.’
She is still standing looking dreamingly out the window smiling, and I know that she is thinking about the time before she came to the nursing home. But when she turns to look I can tell there is something wrong with her expression. She isn’t doing so well holding back her emotions. And there is a question in her eyes.
I say, “We could get you a bird feeder, would you like that? And put it right out side your window. I am sure they wouldn’t mind.”
Her gentle smile tells me I guessed correctly. Her face says it all. Happy tears began to roll down her cheek. I get up and walk toward her.
“I will feed them every day, Harold, even when it snows.”
“Yes, you always did. You never failed.” I feel my eyes burning. I can’t let her see me wipe the tears away, so I hold her tightly.
Soul of my Soul
By Bobby Burcham
My soul has been searching for you, and now we meet.
My soul has found yours and yours has found mine.
And our souls have found fullness of life.
Do not think!
Do not look for many reasons.
There is only one reason in life.
To love is the only reason for being.
Look into your heart and learn to feel love.
Do not resist love, because it hurts.
You will just get more tangled in its web.
Do not fast from love.
Your hunger will just get stronger.
Love is what you have been hungering for.
Love happens when two people hungering for someone come together.
I am yours now, and you are mine.
Never fear or resist love.
It’s easier to surrender.
Claim the power of our love and oneness.
Don’t miss the fullness of life.
Don’t become a stone, which has no life.
And don’t become a plant, which has live, but cannot feel.
Do become all you can be, through union with me.
Let yourself taste the pure and overflowing love.
That you have hidden deep within your heart.
Satisfy your hunger and erase all the loneliness of your soul.
Do not be afraid to claim me as your slave.
I pledge to endure and ever enjoy the pain of the testing of my commitment to you.
My heart will endure the fires of testing until it is pure gold.
My soul has been searching for you, and now we meet.
My soul has found yours and yours has found mine.
And our souls have found fullness of life.
Do not think!
Do not look for many reasons.
There is only one reason in life.
To love is the only reason for being.
Look into your heart and learn to feel love.
Do not resist love, because it hurts.
You will just get more tangled in its web.
Do not fast from love.
Your hunger will just get stronger.
Love is what you have been hungering for.
Love happens when two people hungering for someone come together.
I am yours now, and you are mine.
Never fear or resist love.
It’s easier to surrender.
Claim the power of our love and oneness.
Don’t miss the fullness of life.
Don’t become a stone, which has no life.
And don’t become a plant, which has live, but cannot feel.
Do become all you can be, through union with me.
Let yourself taste the pure and overflowing love.
That you have hidden deep within your heart.
Satisfy your hunger and erase all the loneliness of your soul.
Do not be afraid to claim me as your slave.
I pledge to endure and ever enjoy the pain of the testing of my commitment to you.
My heart will endure the fires of testing until it is pure gold.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Not Now.
By Bobby Burcham.
I don’t notice my wet feet from traffic spraying black oily water as puddles explode from tires.
A greenish gray January sky seems to be leaking, a dew, from metal and evergreen shrubs, or is it the melting snow?
I shiver, not because of the weather, but because of what isn’t inside me. There’s an emptiness that has nothing to do with my fleece lined coat or lazy metabolism.
I feel as if I’m at a cemetery funeral as a shroud of clouds threatens to cry the tears I somehow manage to hold inside.
Yes, there’s beauty in the world, somewhere, and there are dark things also that no one wants to think about, or discuss.
A cold strong fist squeezes my chest; I swallow against the lump that threatens to choke me. My heart races and my face flushes. I feel like I am sweating but I’m chilled through.
I convince myself I’m still alive. I try to reassure myself, this is what it is to be alive. It’s the price! We all have a choice, we can live, feel and suffer, or we can simply exist. Have I simply existed too long?
Somewhere, not inside my head, there is a crash, a loud angry voice – I am brought back to now. I hear again the annoyed growl of traffic and glance at the ominous concrete and glass - the indifferent crowds that do not cure my loneliness.
I don’t like now! I want to go somewhere else, but I don’t know exactly where ‘else’ is, or how to get there.
But is it somewhere, or is it someone? Was there a ‘someone’? Why have I erased the memories of that “someone”? Were they too painful?
Why did they take so much of me with them? Why couldn’t they just leave and not leave me void?
I walk but with out a destination. I have to stay moving. I don’t recognize where I am and that is a relief. I imagine I am on a journey, facing a new world, a glimpse of a new life, with out the old memories.
Only a glimpse and I am back in now. I don’t like now - somewhere in the past, or in the future, maybe, but not now.
Not now!
I don’t notice my wet feet from traffic spraying black oily water as puddles explode from tires.
A greenish gray January sky seems to be leaking, a dew, from metal and evergreen shrubs, or is it the melting snow?
I shiver, not because of the weather, but because of what isn’t inside me. There’s an emptiness that has nothing to do with my fleece lined coat or lazy metabolism.
I feel as if I’m at a cemetery funeral as a shroud of clouds threatens to cry the tears I somehow manage to hold inside.
Yes, there’s beauty in the world, somewhere, and there are dark things also that no one wants to think about, or discuss.
A cold strong fist squeezes my chest; I swallow against the lump that threatens to choke me. My heart races and my face flushes. I feel like I am sweating but I’m chilled through.
I convince myself I’m still alive. I try to reassure myself, this is what it is to be alive. It’s the price! We all have a choice, we can live, feel and suffer, or we can simply exist. Have I simply existed too long?
Somewhere, not inside my head, there is a crash, a loud angry voice – I am brought back to now. I hear again the annoyed growl of traffic and glance at the ominous concrete and glass - the indifferent crowds that do not cure my loneliness.
I don’t like now! I want to go somewhere else, but I don’t know exactly where ‘else’ is, or how to get there.
But is it somewhere, or is it someone? Was there a ‘someone’? Why have I erased the memories of that “someone”? Were they too painful?
Why did they take so much of me with them? Why couldn’t they just leave and not leave me void?
I walk but with out a destination. I have to stay moving. I don’t recognize where I am and that is a relief. I imagine I am on a journey, facing a new world, a glimpse of a new life, with out the old memories.
Only a glimpse and I am back in now. I don’t like now - somewhere in the past, or in the future, maybe, but not now.
Not now!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Again.
By bobby burcham
Again I lied to my heart.
Again I broke my promise.
Again I loved.
Again love filled my heart to overflowing.
Again I broke my promise not to love again.
Again love has slipped away.
Again I lost.
Again I am alive but I am dead inside.
Again I am alive but I cannot feel.
Again if I were alive inside I would hurt.
Again if I could feel I’d hurt.
Again I die inside.
Again I am an empty Shell.
Again I die for love.
Again.
Again I lied to my heart.
Again I broke my promise.
Again I loved.
Again love filled my heart to overflowing.
Again I broke my promise not to love again.
Again love has slipped away.
Again I lost.
Again I am alive but I am dead inside.
Again I am alive but I cannot feel.
Again if I were alive inside I would hurt.
Again if I could feel I’d hurt.
Again I die inside.
Again I am an empty Shell.
Again I die for love.
Again.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
End of a dream.
By bobby burcham.
Kelly and I had a really good talk today. We laughed and made jokes for over an hour. We even talked about the good times we’d had together.
Then she got serious and said, “I have to go Larry.” We sat for another five or ten minutes with out speaking.
When she said, “I have to meet him in ten minutes”, we stood and I held her for a few minutes.
Then I almost broke down but I got it out, “I truly hope you and Don are happy together.”
Finally her smile twisted a little in sympathy as she said, “Larry, I hope you find someone too. We will always be friends, right?”
I think she understood when I couldn’t answer her.
End.
Kelly and I had a really good talk today. We laughed and made jokes for over an hour. We even talked about the good times we’d had together.
Then she got serious and said, “I have to go Larry.” We sat for another five or ten minutes with out speaking.
When she said, “I have to meet him in ten minutes”, we stood and I held her for a few minutes.
Then I almost broke down but I got it out, “I truly hope you and Don are happy together.”
Finally her smile twisted a little in sympathy as she said, “Larry, I hope you find someone too. We will always be friends, right?”
I think she understood when I couldn’t answer her.
End.
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