Magazine Posts

Life could be better,
or it could be worse,
if your life was over
as you lay in a hearse.

Do I know you my friend?
Have I been here before?
Were we ever lovers,
or a friendship, no more?

Come to me, sweet visions,
in the still of the night.
I seek forgiveness to
restore my lost sight.
No matter the reason,
I ask you to ignore my plight.

Another year,
one more day
and quite soon,
it's gone away.
2022 rears it's
head as
more unvaccinated
and more dead.
A new legacy,
no longer here,
because of politics,
which stoked the fear.
The vaccines free,
but not your mind.
Good Lord Almighty,
are you that blind?

I started high school at O'Dea
in Seattle. An all-boys, Catholic
school. My parents, decided to
move back to their hometown,
it was mine also as I was born
there.
My new high school, was in the
town of Thorp, 9 miles West of
Ellensburg. Same school my dad
attended.
I liked the school and my friends.
I was the class President in my early
year and later became the student
body President, when I was a Senior.
I was popular then, but must admit
the total high school enrollment was
approximately 40 and our class
was 14. I gained many friends there,
but now many of the males are gone,
no longer with us.
The times I recall were glorious,
adventurous times.
How I miss those uncomplicated days.

What must the World be,
if you have no filters?
Words written or said,
spill into the air, without
benefit of guidance. Not
good, to hear unfiltered
commentary, unless you
are immune to unintended
comments.

I understand what has happened to she,
for she no longer lives with me.
She has moved to a new home,
a memory care unit, where she lives alone.
The Caregivers are alert and aware
of her needs and they do with care.
My thoughts for them go above
anything I can ask, for this I love.
I love the way in which they share
their thoughts, love which I am aware.
My heartfelt thanks to those of you
and all the love you provide and do.

Tell me why.
Tell me when,
I will be able
to see you again.

Sit close to me
as I tell my tale
of a lonely man,
who believes he failed
to care for his wife,
through thick and thin,
as her memory left,
now there's nothing to win.
Her banal existence
is suppressed every day.
What kind of life is this
when her personality no
longer laughs, no longer is gay
because the empty shell
she lives in every day?

Bright is the morning,
as an early sunrise,
with cloudless skies,
while an easternly breeze,
shakes branches, now
barren of leaves.
Mist rising from ponds and streams,
as the sound of crickets,
accompanied by frogs,
mixed with the sound of bird songs
cuts through the air.
A beautiful morning
almost everywhere.

Long before I knew you,
it was a dream which I now recall
when I was aware of the newness
of becoming a teen.
Wanting to be an adult soon.
What was I thinking of?
Lost, am I now in a troubling daze,
of my devotion to someone,
I know I can't save.

From the darkness it crept, steadily,
crawling across a mind's barren plain,
coursing the emotionless range.
Spewing hate, in words now chosen
to disparage all heart felt emotions.
Low were the thoughts, attacking within,
never to be recovered or seen again.