Secret of Success

You say you want to know (and others too)
The shining secret of my life’s success;
My ten-step, rags-to-riches recipe
And my ascendant path to happiness.

Do you mean the grail of heroes’ quest?
Is that the secret you were hoping for?
Tales of dreaming big and acting boldly;
Of stumbling upon fortune’s golden door?

Alas, the hidden truth (invisible
Behind the bright myth of a master plan)
Is that, no sooner is the mask removed,
Than cracks appear in the sun-bronzed tan.

My dark secret is that things fall apart
Almost nightly in the shadows of fame,
When the glaring spotlights of intrigue fade
And fragile self-esteem crumbles to shame.

My hushed secret is that the booming voice
Becomes a gnawing whisper of self-doubt
In the echoing caves of solitude;
An endless maze where only demons shout.

My small secret is that the starlit rise
Shines bright against a black, black empty sky;
And even as the peacock struts its plumes,
Its wings are clipped short and it cannot fly.

The secret of my success … is failure
(If you, and others too, still want to know);
It’s scrambling across the yawning chasm
Between where I am and where I must go.

It’s waking up hungry for self-respect
And going to bed thirsty for respite
From the chattering voices in my head
That tease with vivid dreams of flight.

It’s stretching and striving and surviving
The onslaught of seeing the potential
At the edges of my unsettled state
Of relentless angst that’s existential.

It’s throwing a rope across the river
Daily, between what is and what could be;
It’s showing the world, not the best I’ve got,
But the best bits I want them to see.

To succeed in life is to fail and fail
And still keep giving more than you can take.
My secret of success, since you did ask,
Is to know what’s real from all that is fake.

Wayne Visser © 2011

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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No War!

Don’t speak to me of holy wars
Of martyrdom and sacrifice
Don’t speak of an enlightened cause
Of infidels and paradise

There is no decent way to kill
No comfort for a widowed bride
There is no vengeful divine will
No godly plan for genocide

Don’t speak to me of hidden bombs
Of dictators and liberty
Don’t speak of righting nations’ wrongs
Of winning peace and setting free

There is no gold that’s worth a life
No oil that’s worth the blood
There is no diamond worth the strife
Of sordid profits from the mud

Don’t speak to me of sacred ground
Of ancient consecrated earth
Don’t speak of treasures lost and found
Of claiming back His place of birth

There is no faith that teaches hate
No doctrine founded on revenge
There is no violent seal of fate
No prayer to make the bloodshed end

Don’t speak to me of wars for peace
Of battles for the hearts and minds
Don’t speak of blames that never cease
Of hurt that heals and pain that binds

There is no glory in a war
No victory in futures lost
There is no flag worth killing for
No profit that can match the cost.

Wayne Visser © 2010

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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One True Light

The world shook
And I felt the tremor
Fires raged in the City
While my flame died

Battered
Beaten
Broken

I rose from cinder
Turned my back
To smoking sky
And walked away

Barefoot
Bruised
Blistered

I walked on pebbles
Forward step by step
Towards the barricade
And a new harbour

Warmth
Light
Rest

I found respite
A safe place
Storm protected
Calm and cosy

Seagulls
Salt-air
Surf

I hear wilderness calling
Cut the moorings
Drift out to sea
Dance with the wind

Wink
Blink
Think

I recognise the beam
The searching signal
Land ahoy!
My one true light.

Wayne Visser © 2009

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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We Could

We could …
But what about consequences?

I’ve thought about it
And savoured the thought
Dreamed about it
And woke up still smiling

So, we could …
But what about responsibilities?

The thrill of beginnings
Leads to the ache of endings
Happy-go-lucky now
Means sad-and-lonely later

Yes, we could …
But what about expectations?

I’ve danced with images
And felt the beat of anticipation
Sung the very scenery
And heard nature join the chorus

No doubt, we could …
But what about destinations?

The paths of travellers
Cross, tangle and part ways
The stars of destiny
Seldom blink and shine in sync

We could …
But would we? And should we?

Wayne Visser © 2009

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Friends Are Like Mirrors

Friends are like mirrors
In which are reflected
Our face without masks
And our memories collected
They let us see clearly
The treasures we’ve hidden
The choices we’ve made
And our destiny bidden.

Wayne Visser © 2007

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Stone In My Shoe

You’re the surf in my tide
The thorn in my side
The buoy when I sink
And the spike in my drink

You’re the pearl in my clam
The flaw in my plan
The lift in my wings
And the knot in my strings

You’re the fire in my flue
The stone in my shoe
The knife in my back
And the gold in my sack

You’re the hole in my pale
The wind in my sail
The crease in my frown
And the jewel in my crown

You’re the storm in my sky
The glint in my eye
The end of my rest
And the grail of my quest.

Wayne Visser © 2007

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Complicated

Is it just me …
Or does life get simpler
And love more complicated
The longer you live
And the more you love …
Or is it just me?

Or maybe …
It isn’t life that gets simpler
But the simple things in life
That turn out to be more important
And that make life more worthwhile …
Just maybe?

And perhaps …
It isn’t love that gets complicated
But me who has become more complex
Who is now more interesting
And who is more difficult …
Just perhaps?

Is it just me …
Or does love get deeper
And life more superficial
The longer you love and
And the more you live …
Or is it just me?

Wayne Visser © 2007

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Time Takes Its Toll

Time takes its toll …

On dancing feet that start to plod
And willing hands that turn to clod
On sparkling eyes that dull from tears
And sprightly smiles that fade from years

Time takes it toll …

When ahead is less than behind
Yet somehow still takes longer
When living is littered with dying
Yet gives no good reasons why
When memories we cherish fade
Yet those that hurt most remain

Time takes its toll …

On flying dreams that crash and burn
And broken hearts that live and learn
On naive trust that’s bruised and maimed
And primal hope that’s caged and tamed

Time takes its toll …

Wayne Visser © 2006

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Wheel-Trap

The questions in the wheel-trap of my mind
Spin round and round like echoes without sound
The time-cogs of my memories slowly grind
Churning and yearning and re-treading ground

How could she do it? I have to know why
After all those years, to cheat and then lie
How could she do it? I thought that she cared
To show no respect, for all that we shared

The questions in the wheel-trap of my mind
Revolve like cycles in a vicious loop
The mantras that repeat, ensnare and bind
Will keep me jumping through the fiery hoop

How can I do it? I want to break free
From chains of anger that still shackle me
How can I do it? To now be a friend
For with no respect, it must surely end

The questions in the wheel-trap of my mind
Are riddles made to torture, tease and taunt
The answers are a key I’ll never find
For phantoms always hover, hex and haunt.

Wayne Visser © 2006

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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Though You Are Gone

Though you are gone
There still always
Will be:

An ache where once there was a glow
A pulse where once there was a beat
A sigh where once there was a kiss
A smile where once there was a laugh

My life moves on
But there always
Will be:

A spark where once there was a fire
A drop where once there was a storm
A blade where once there was a field
A grain where once there was a beach

I won’t look back
But there always
Will be:

A word where once there was a poem
A note where once there was a song
A frame where once there was a scene
A flash where once there was a muse

My life is full
But there always
Will be:

A cloud where once there was a sky
A plume where once there was a bird
A ray where once there was a sun
A beam where once there was a moon

I look ahead
But there always
Will be:

A strand where once there was a rope
A stone where once there was a bridge
A tick where once there was a time
A spot where once there was a place

My life has changed
But there always
Will be:

A hush where once there was a sound
A thought where once there was a tale
A wisp where once there was a dream
A hope where once there a love

For you are gone
And yet remain
With me.

Wayne Visser © 2006

Book

String, Donuts, Bubbles and Me: Favourite Philosophical Poems

This creative collection, now in its 3rd edition, brings together philosophical poems by Wayne Visser. In this anthology, he muses on subjects ranging from space, angels and destiny to time, science and meaning in life. According to scientists / The world’s made of string / That buzzes and fuzzes / Or some such strange thing / It’s also a donut / That curls round a hole / With middles and riddles / Just like a fish bowl / And there’s no mistaking / It’s more than 3-D / With twenty or plenty / Dimensions unseen / Still others insist / It’s really a bubble / That’s popping and bopping / Through the lenses of Hubble. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

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