KOBE, THE COURT IS EMPTY

Young with a smile so bright, on the court you lit up the night,

Wizard of the bouncing ball, for twenty years you gave your all.

Down the floor with a magical touch, a fake and a dribble to the left,

Down the court, you drive, into the air, under your leg, slam dunk!

From city to city you traveled, left your mark on many a basketball floor,

Most valuable player, championships of five, you were a force of magical delight.

Kobe, the court is empty, your spirit does jump shots in the dark of night,

For eternity you are a champion in some heavenly light, where are you tonight?

The staple center will forever be your second home, now in a spiritual world you roam,

Shoot that ball! listen to the cheers from all souls that will hear, daughter so dear.

The buzzer sounds, the game is over, you won the game, time for you to go away,

Take that trophy in your arms, forever you will be Kobe, a far away superstar.

Keith Garrett

LIFE ITSELF

It started for us each our own day, a life ahead in our own way,

We carve a path, a road we make to walk that ends when God will say.

Life itself is so incredible, mysterious, with laughter and tears along the way,

What are we supposed to learn as we go from childhood and beyond long lost days?

We say hello and then a day comes to say goodbye, In between it is we who share our lives,

We cry when we are happy, tears are shed upon our faces when a goodbye is said in many ways.

The cycle carries on as we grow from a child and watch as our children become adults, we get older,

Our parents go from what was once younger to a place of fragileness then disappear into eternity.

Our children have children as we slowly follow a certain path, someday too again join family,

Why is it we have to be saddened by so many different goodbyes throughout this gift of a life?

Keith Garrett

A COLLECTION OF TIME

From our first look, a picture, a baby book,

Pictures in school, pictures in the park,

Home movies and videos, memories of who we are.

A collection of time, scenes and images from a life,

A scrapbook of many filled and turned pages to see,

Photo albums created from places, times with family.

A collection of time, pictures faded, recalled faces that change,

All that which we hold onto, saved in boxes, dusty shelves of thoughts,

A collection of time, memories in our minds, treasures left behind.

Keith Garrett

THE WORLD NEEDED HIM NO MORE

Not that he was of an older age, but then what is old,

He had in him much more to give, given not a chance.

Full of energy as this man existed in a world of his own,

Accomplished did he many things the world did not see.

The world had changed just as a man changes over time,

He eventually fades with time and goes away, the world stays.

The world needed him no more, time to part ways,

He disappeared with the aging sun and all that he had done.

Keith Garrett

NOT A MEMORY HAS THE SEA

Covers the sea, crashes against the land with force,

Since the beginning of its creation has not sat still.

Touches life as it moves, like the ticking of time,

Never stops, never remembering where it’s been.

It does not think, there is no thought out plan,

Although each day and every moment, a routine just as man.

It can be touched, felt, you can never take hold,

Power and energy as it never grows old.

Not a memory has the sea, friendly or mean,

Its magic and mystery free to be,

NOT A MEMORY HAS THE SEA

Keith Garrett

LIGHT IN THE WINDOW

Each night as the sun goes down, darkness visits a sleepy town,

A usual stroll through the streets brings peace before dreams.

What’s noticed from a mans’ eyes within the blackness is a window,

A dark building shows off the faint light that glows from behind a shade.

As I pass by every night along my route of walking I wonder about the light,

Who might be there beyond the walls surrounding this one and only window?

Always seems so quiet, could there be laughter or singing on the other side,

Someone quietly reading a book, dreaming of what’s out there in the world,

Beyond their window, do they wonder of things that are a mystery to them?

Is there a possible sadness that wanders around inside, who might hide,

A name must be attached to a soul with a life, only a light in the window is seen.

Keith Garrett

IS MY LIFE A DREAM?

Thinking about it as merely a wondering, curious thought,

My every day and all that I do appears to be a life that’s true.

Whether your time here has been of happiness or just sad,

What if and just suppose that it wasn’t yours, wasn’t real.

All that you know and everything you have, are you dreaming,

What if as you are asleep your mind has made up and written a story.

Perhaps a lifetime, the friends, family members, that which you know to be,

Has no reality, that but a dream or to awake to a nightmare of screams.

Is my life a dream,? will I awake to find that nothing is as it seemed,

Reality is not what I have seen, for what appeared to be an eternity.

What if the life you believe to be is an accident, a long coma state,

Ask yourself, is my life a dream,? what if I had a different reality.?

Keith Garrett

A PICTURE

I stand here watching as I am not noticed but observe I do,

By an old, leafless tree I watch this scene hidden in the shadows.

A long time ago I see in front of me an old farmhouse of red,

Old, withered, fences surround the house and land, many trees in the distance stand.

A sky of clouded blue is a part of this picture seen from my eyes,

To the left of me slowly walking is a young man and horse,

Their shadows follow along as they head on down the road.

Covered with leaves is the ground as the look and feel of Fall is around,

A wagon sits unhitched close to where it is that I stand,

A picture from a long time ago, not recognizing where I am.

A picture of a place that once used to be, now just a picture of a memory.

Keith Garrett

A DIFFERENT KIND OF HOME

I thought about it a little more recently as I stroll through the park,

So sad it is for some of them as they are hard working and lost everything.

For others, there are no excuses only bad choices or criminal doing,

Some get lost in the cracks as the help that is for them needed does not care.

We have homeless heroes, how is it possible when they gave their all,

Some are sick and hurt as they lost more than their material life.

A different kind of home they now have, not what they remember,

Let me describe it to you, some of us are a paycheck away, maybe a day.

The roof over their head may be a clear sky or a rainy night,

The walls around them are not the same as they often change.

A couch wherever they sit, a bed wherever they rest their head,

Television sets, that which is taken in by their wishing eyes.

A shower for granted taken each day, when will a shower come their way,

gone now is the refrigerator that was, like an animal they search now.

A different kind of home not that they can call their own, they roam,

Circumstances of why, many reasons you see, sadness wears many feet.

Keith Garrett

A BRIDGE I CROSS

Far it reaches through my time,

My travel across it a neverending journey.

Obstacles are sometimes in my way,

I’ll hurdle over or push out of my way.

Moving along searching, always searching,

For just a little more of things not to hurt me.

Not ever knowing what’s ahead,

Stop I will not until the end.

Keith Garrett