Crawling Around the Mourners Bench
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About this ebook
CRAWLING AROUND THE MOURNERS BENCH
is a compilation of poetic creations entailing the different stage ad of one Darryl Goodner.
There was a time when he was at his lowest, as detailed by the poem “Suicide”. He has endeavored to take his readers on a journey with him, through all his ups and downs...all the
Darryl Goodner
Darryl Goodner is a native of Louisville, Kentucky. He started thinking at a young age, and with thoughts, there comes a need to write them down on paper. He was raised in a musical family. It was discovered that "Goodie" couldn't only put thoughts and words together, but it was found that he "could carry some tunes in a bucket," so to speak. And there it was...a star had been born! But education was demanded by Carrie B. Pendleton, who was responsible for raising up and nurturing the author. School had to be first! Darryl graduated from the University of Louisville, and thus, begins the journey...
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Crawling Around the Mourners Bench - Darryl Goodner
Acknowledgments
I want to thank God for his creativity.
I would like to take the time to thank my wife Mary, and my daughter Simone.
If it weren’t for them, I would still be stuck in a literary wilderness.
Thanks for sticking around.
Prologue
As a child, I was surely hypnotized by this phenomenon called the mourner’s bench.
This wasn’t necessarily a bench at all. It was a designated area where the saintest of saints
would go and talk to GOD about the problems of the world and those of the heart.
When we would arrive at Joshua Tabernacle Baptist Church, I was usually deposited on the floor with a couple of my favorite toys. Afterwards, I was left to fend for myself.
Actually, this was the beginning of my time to be in awe and wonderment, of the going-ons
around this particular vicinity. There were women and men calling out to the Holy Spirit. These people would be pouring their hearts out, in the presence of The Almighty
!
What a sight of amazement for a baby who had just mastered the art of crawling.
My trusty toys that were left for me to amuse myself, were quickly becoming forgotten memories, as I was introduced to the mourners’ bench.
Not what you think.
Suicide
There’s no more room in my mind;
there’s no more space.
I’ve gone to every part, seeking to find some relief,
but there is no such place.
Your money is not my money,
and I’m not in pain because of that.
I have a heartache so bad,’cause
all of my lean
dreams have turned to fat.
Have I pursued something so elusive,
so determined, that I thought this is what God wanted?
Now all my memories of me
praying for people,
and writing songs to stop the weeping,
those memories come back to me haunted.
Never did I want to be the one whose works are discovered after my death.
I wanted to share some of this,
while I followed this life long, pledge.
Could it be that I have been barking up
the wrong tree,
my whole life long?
Is it possible that, with my love of life, and the arts and song,
that I could have been
just plain dead wrong?
© Darryl Goodner 2009
The answer is inside.
Mindfully
Where do I come from?
Mindfully…
To where do I run to?
Can I possibly be of the right mind, to do all the things I do…
to let so much emotional interest accrue…?
For love of answers, writers put things on paper;
Is my life be just a mist…a transcendental vapor.
Life was never like this when the world was young;
every one of my fears were dead, or close to being fun.
It seems that dismay has found its way back to my living.
My faith is pivoting!
He didn’t promise a life of sunshine;
rain falls more often than sometimes.
Why experience so much pain?
I know the Creator holds the reins.
© Darryl Goodner 2008
I had to live on the streets of syllables to stop the craziness!
How Pimping Saved My Sanity
Pimping is wrong,
just as a summer day is long.
Pimping is about using someone,
and giving them legal tender,
for services they’ve rendered.
In this case, money was not the taste.
I pimped this woman for her words…
words that were feasible to my emotions.
Writing is the pimping,
and I write at any notion.
Through good times and bad,
no matter what type of conversation we had,
I put those feelings out on the corner.
I had them babies on the streets of paper,
so that any trick of a reader,
could see us naked.
I want to let the world know,
that this kind of pimping is sacred.
Before I got into this trade, my mind was shot…
My relationships were not so hot.
But a famous curator of this art form once told me:
Pimping ain’t no sex game, it’s a mind thang!
And words can engulf the cerebral, just the same.
Even better,
because this kind of pimping,
goes down to the letter.
© Darryl Goodner 2012
Always sustaining…!
A Constant Friend
I’m on a mission for peace;
I tried to find it in another
but it was such a bother
Holes don’t come any bigger
than the void in my heart,
after realizing,
that I had been chasing in vain,
someone, whom I loved from the very start.
As I have gotten older and better
I have learned to accept new days.
Every moment has to be lived
a different way.
This is for no one in particular…
for, the one who could really read my writings,
has gone.
They know themselves, that these pieces
will still be written, and time will go on.
You feel good about stepping into another phase.
You experience quite the exoneration,
coming from under that muddled haze.
And when the son of reality hits you again,
You will know that GOD is your only
constant friend.
© Darryl Goodner 2006
If you think you can’t hold on, then hang on…!
Wait With Praise
It’s strange how circumstances can change your thoughts.
So much despair and loss of hope,
can make you forget about the price,
for which you were bought.
When we go into desperation, we sin against our faith.
Hence, we often settle for less.
The ultimate promise is:
GOD will give us His best.
So here we are:
Living in a world tormented by evil;
we are trying to coexist with persons
whose minds have been rendered feeble.
While we are slated for even worse days,
GOD gives us an itinerary:
We’ve got to wait with praise.
© Darryl Goodner 2013
To cover is a great thang!
Body Full
Wish that I was your terry cloth;
I would dry you from the tub.
The warm fuzziness I could give would wrap you in a heavenly love.
Soaking up that excess,
from head to toe,
making your next step so much easier,
as you flow.
I switch my identity, and become your robe;
as you carry on in the early morn, I’d strobe,
and settle in on your body.
As you enjoy your hot toddy,
you cross your legs…
some of me would fall by your ankle,
causing my silken heart to dangle.
Jealous of those things that cover your feet…
so cruel!
Wishing that I had been made body full.
© Darryl Goodner
Inquisitive questions…!
Untitled
Would you still love me tomorrow,
if I was less, than perfect today?
When I was about to let myself down,
would you tell me what to say?
If I was to put my heart in your hands,
would you hold it like an offering plate in use?
Just so I could disprove those who say true love
is for fools.
Is it possible that you could grasp the fact,
I have no control over this thing I call my heart?
I love in pieces, spread a little here and there;
You have to gather
my love in carts.
Now the greater portion has been reserved;
this part of my heart is a place where
only one has the nerve to call it home.
I have attached my heart to your Spirit.
Now, I cease to roam.
© Darryl Goodner 2011
…the cutoff date is around the corner!
Extended
EVERY TIME YOU GO AWAY AND STAY,
WE LOSE SOME INTIMACY.
AND WHEN YOU FINALLY COME HOME,
THERE IS NO LAUGHTER,
OR CONVERSATION AFTER.
I DON’T EVEN HAVE ROOM TO SING,
BECAUSE THERE IS NO SONG.
JUST A FEW MORE OF YOUR
EXTENDED TRIPS,
AND I’LL BE GONE.
© Darryl Goodner 2019
Namesake
HIS GRIFFNESS
Has basketball gotten to the point of no return,
that one man alone can actually yearn,
to be put in a class by himself?
For the ‘Griff’ to be considered the baddest,
is just making it honest.
Some have said that he hadn’t proven what others had said:
"To bring his team back alive,
and in the process,
staying cool, calm, collected, and dry."
Like Ali, Ellis, and Helen Humes,
more spotlight space is needed…
The ‘Griff’ has to have room!
His talents and playing has astounded one and all;
just watch him
execute a backward over-the-head stuff,
and have everyone enthralled.
When Darrell was younger and marveled the people with awesome dunks,
and soft touch shots,
the sportswriters belittled him:
Without defense, he’s not so hot!
Jumping forty-eight inches from a vertical stand,
I’d like to see Sir Griff
one-on-one with any of those writer’s all Americans.
He’s been sneered upon, and looked down on, because of his individualities.
It’s not his fault that the public hasn’t seen another player with his capabilities.
They said his defense and teamwork was not up to par;
that he would be unable to become a full-fledged star.
Disbelievers said: He won’t go far!
Those people don’t know that Darrell has been in various dirt bowls,
and has played against the really greats.
Some of those same players that never got a chance;
their careers danced to a different fate.
While other stars have peaked early in their game, and have become old hat,
The Griff is still adding new heights to his name.
Even a miser would bet on that!
Those same unfortunate people cannot see how Griffith blended into team-type play.
Passing, shot-blocking, and drawing the charge,
has become the order of the day.
Louisville has always been known to be basketball country,
with its enormous output and all.