Monday, December 14, 2015

Stories From The Carolina Coast: Poetry/ Walk On

Stories From The Carolina Coast: Poetry/ Walk On: Sometimes before the morning sun I walk within the dark tides flow And leave no trace that I ever was. Like time before and time to come,...

Poetry/ Walk On


Sometimes before the morning sun I walk within the dark tides flow
And leave no trace that I ever was.
Like time before and time to come, I matter not, but for day or night . A shadow, a ghost more real than I would leave more solid footprints behind. Still I walk on as the waves like yesterday and tomorrow wash away all trace of my passing and still I walk on. 
Once there was a place to be, a sun to see and the sound of my footfalls had a place, now they are just erased and covered by the sound of the waves and warm salt spray.
No more foot falls this day, I have tomorrow to pay, but tonight I walk on in the moon.
R. Sweat

Friday, May 8, 2015

Baseball in my Soul

I Love Baseball. 
Baseball makes you feel young.
Everyone is 12 years old again when they're watching a game.
Food taste better, time moves slower and regardless of the score, there is always another game tomorrow. 
Every time I watch a game with my son, I find myself teaching him the finer points of the game and I swear I can hear my dad's voice whispering them to me, as he once did to me.
In baseball our hero's are forever young and always Ready to give us one more memory.
In baseball our ever expanding family can be defined by cap one wears or our teams logo on the rear window of our car.
Baseball defies time and can't be constrained by a clock. We all know when the first pitch will be thrown, but baseball is timeless both literally and figuratively and so too are our memories of our time spent together. 




Baseball sends us back to a time when the world was large and our hero's on the field were second only to the hero's who were our fathers.
The ones who taught us to throw and hit and honor a game that tied us all, not only to the past and each other, but to the future too. If there is only one truth to be found in this ever evolving world, then that truth is that the game does not change, it adapts, but its the same game played by "Shoeless Joe". The same wooden bat used by "Babe" Ruth, the same bases ran by Jackie Robinson, and the same ball thrown by Nolan Ryan. The bases are still 90 feet apart and even after 150 years the runner and the catchers throw, still seem to always arrive at second base at the exact same second.
I always thought that there was something wonderfully serendipitous in the theme of both baseball and life, that the goal of of both was to make it home safely while committing as few eras as is humanly possible. God I love Baseball.
R. Sweat

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Religion in the Waves

The ocean is a religion. Its waves are a constant reminder of the never-ending nature of the world we live in. It's tides teach you that everything comes and goes at it's own pace. It touches all parts of our world at the same time and ties us all together no matter how far away we think we might be from each other. Its always there, making us feel small, while at the same time enlarging us in ways we don't even fathom. Stand on a shore and you can stare off into the Seas depths and on any given day see into your past or your future.
The ocean has always been my religion and no matter how far away I am or how long its been since my last confession, I can always sense it's ebb and flow in my veins and feel its pull on my heart and soul every time there's a full moon in the sky.
Try to stand on a beach while the last rays of summer sun reach out to you from millions of miles away and not feel the awe.
No the Ocean is most definitely a religion and I was born to be it's disciple.
R.Sweat

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Poetry/Hollow

Once I looked with eyes that never saw
Only to hear the truths stolen from a broken heart
To touch no one,leaving all in my wake feeling nothing
I Spoke in half truths, in the half light and left always by midnight
Leaving roses with no scent, forgotten beauty that once graced my world
Better to be Anonymous on Earth, Than a Star In Heaven