The Drum

I still remember
the sky was a deep sapphire
that afternoon when
the dead drone
of the drum began,


their coffers were far from empty
but they were still hungry
for power and dollars,
their only Gods


not a hint of regret
laid across the
lips of lady liberty
but it did her people,
they are good people, mostly,
simple people


the propaganda machine
had spewed its stinking filth
for years leaving us so numb
we were willing to believe anything,
but this time was different

divisions were melting away,
our world was shrinking
and people were thinking,
yearning badly for a lasting peace
so the powers that be
brought us only war


after all it’s never been
their sons or daughters
who get the blood
on their hands,
only the simple people
are sent to inflict the wounds
and collect the scars that
will cause hate and pain
to rip through generations,
like a tsunami


our deepest level of trouble
were the false flags of fear,
their hypnotic switches
causing one to doubt
wh
at they know to be true

 

in their hearts,
this is all they need,
easy belief of these kinds of lies
have always been the
weeds in our garden

but the peace has always
been there within us,
we see the shine of it
from the corners of our eyes
deep down like a
gold nugget flashing,
nestled in the smooth rock
of the river bed

to uncover it, we need

less logic and more ramble
but we must learn this quickly

before our world lies

smoldering in shambles,


this time
there will be
no second chances,
no Phoenix rising,
not this time


through all of this
they failed to realize
that this is just the sort of thing
that turns peaceful souls
into revolutionaries,


our righteous and beautiful voices

may just shout them down in unison,
most of us, we are just

simple people after all,


simple folks who want
the chance to succeed or fail,
fill our lungs with clean fresh air,
and slay our demons one by one,
have ourselves a bit of fun


but in the distance
I hear the dreaded drum,
the dead drone
of the drum.

War Drum

~Eric Vance Walton~

 

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Deep Pockets, Empty Souls

So many little stories unfold 

all around us
we must smile

and try to enjoy

our brief journey,
the intricacies 

of which we 

know nothing 

about, really
we must dig deep

to find our greatest joy

and relish each moment

in its wonder
only then we will know

this isn’t just a world of 

deep pockets 

and empty souls.
~Eric Vance Walton~

Fire

May the itch

of wanting 

to know what’s

around each bend

always nag you

may your bearings

you never fail

to find,

and a pleasant calm

drift over you 

and usher tranquil sleep

each night ’till rise and shine

may your soul

always be 

at peace

when life takes 

you far from home,

may you follow 

in the footsteps 

of your Father

in whichever 

world you choose 

to roam

may you be wise enough

not be saddened

by the embers’ fading glow,

but have the wit 

to build your own fire 

whenever cold winds blow.
~Eric Vance Walton~

Still the Bell Tolls

Once we had broad shoulders

and callused hands,

we were craftsmen

and held in high esteem

those who made things, 

ingenuity ran in our blood
once we were young, 

full of enthusiasm

we convinced ourselves 

that our way was better,

we sold the world the fabric 

of our idealism to weave

their own magic carpet 
now we are lost,

we are listless

our eyes dead from worry,

our souls scarred by greed

we have all that we want

but not enough of what we need,

still the bell tolls
giving all we think 

we have to give

and then we give more

to serve our corporate Lords

I fear that we will never

be able to replace 

what they’ve subtracted

nor fully decipher 

what’s been redacted,

still the bell tolls
the foundation 

of our empire quivers,

but the Lords are 

too brazen to shiver 

as we awaken

hungry in our cells,

still the bell tolls
we are catching fire

some call it revolution 

but it’s only evolution 

to a higher consciousness

it’s time for change

let’s come together

and let the bell toll.
~Eric Vance Walton~

The Greatest Gift

 

When there are no more jobs
for these hands,
no more ideas 
streaming from my mind

I wish to be remembered
as a cultural chameleon,
a humble drifter,
sensitive to the beauty
of this world

these days,
they are borrowed,
but the memories
are ours to keep

the greatest gift
of the mortal
is living a life so brave
that you find your tribe,
and grow old
with those know
your soul so well,
they can see the world
through your eyes.

~Eric Vance Walton~

What If?

What if all that we’ve been taught is wrong?  

What if we live in a world

where vanity is a kind of virtue?
A place where confidence and

self-love are the first steps

in opening up your heart

to the miracle that exists

within you.
What if reality, as we know

it isn’t truth at all but its antithesis?
Comprised of falsehoods 

that serve all but the greater good, 

bars to keep us imprisoned 

so that we may never know 

the true power of our souls.
~Eric Vance Walton~

A Writer’s Life

Shaky with apprehensions,

poorer this year than the last,

existing in the place between

what will be and what has passed

 

it’s an author’s life for me

I have given the benefit of every doubt,

and during fevers of eloquence,

found myself electrified absolutely

by the lightning bolt of muse

 

this current flowing through me,

greater than any currency

it has given me friends that span oceans wide

there are no borders here, no blind pride

we are bound by our love of words,

and have found an all embracing tenderness

that shows us

there should be no other way.

 

~Eric Vance Walton~

The Way (we’re supposed to be) 

These days, it seems

we engross ourselves 

in bucket lists,

and dream often

of the excitement 

of far off, distant places

 

we constantly seek escape 

from the mundane 

and dive deep 

into the blue glow 

of our screens

while ignoring our dreams

and the gift of life 

unfolding all around us
sometimes our peace

lurks in the familiar, 

the energy we feel 

from the person across the table, 

in the micro-expressions,

the slightest twitch of an eyelid

or that certain sarcastic smile
sometimes our answers 

are tucked away in the most 

comfortable of places,

where people know us deeply

but love us just the same

 

as I find myself 

in the full vigor 

of my middle years

I know in every 

cell of my being

that we must learn to 

love who we are,

to feel joy right

where we stand,

at this very moment.

 

and if we find 

we can’t do that, 

then something 

must drastically change.
~Eric Vance Walton~

Special Announcement

DEAR READERS: I’m excited to announce the pre-sales for my newest handmade poetry chapbook start now!

 

EMANCIPATION is the second volume of my poetry chapbook series.  Artist Kristi Casey has outdone herself this time by creating a beautiful work of art that incorporates a technique called encaustic painting.  The chapbook is handmade, hand-bound, numbered, and autographed. Emancipation contains twenty-three original poems with the general theme of freedom. I’m so proud to share this project with you.

 

This book of original poetry will have a very limited print run of 75 copies for this handmade version. The dimensions of the book are 5” x 6” and the interior is printed on 24lb paper. Since it’s handmade, each copy will be slightly different in appearance.

 

PRICE:

$15.50 per copy (shipping included/U.S. domestic only); and

 

$14.00 per copy for those outside of the U.S. (plus a flat shipping fee of $10 for up to 5 copies shipped to the same address).

 

Reserve your chapbook(s) via PayPal (https://www.paypal.com) in 4 easy steps: 1. log onto your Paypal account;  2. choose, “Pay or Send Money”;  3. click, “Send money to friends or family; and 4. send the proper amount to, “ericvancewalton@gmail.com”.  Please don’t forget to include the shipping address in the notes.

 

If you’d rather pay by check please send me a private message with the number of copies you wish to purchase and your address and I’ll respond with the address to which you can send a personal check.

 

Here’s the book’s foreword:

 

“I went through a few days of deep thought before the title of this chapbook came to me. I was trying too hard and getting nowhere. I was attempting to force the natural creative flow and this never works. Suddenly, while walking our beagle, a common theme for all of the poems in this collection came to light.

 

Emancipation.

 

Take a moment to analyze your dreams and wishes. Isn’t a large component of each of them the desire to be free from something? This was the case with all of my dreams and wishes but I never realized it before. The process of writing teaches me something new almost every day.

 

I hope you enjoy and get lost in this collection. These twenty-three poems represent almost a year of my life. In them I hope you find joy, a seed of thought, or even inspiration for an emancipation of your very own!

 

With Gratitude,

 

~Eric Vance Walton~ “

 

This book of poetry would make a very thoughtful and unique Holiday Day gift. Although we can’t guarantee it, we will do our very best to have these to your doorstep by Christmas Day.

 

Again, the price is $15.50 per copy (shipping included/U.S. domestic only) and $14.00 per copy for those outside of the U.S.(plus a flat shipping fee of $10 for up to 5 copies shipped to the same address).

 

Thank you!