Magazine Posts

When your World crumbles
like castles of sand
and the life you know
is not yours to command,
it's the time to stand,
raising your voices up high
and protest, you must,
so all we'll know why.
This is your fight.
Do you live or just die?

There is a rule, always written,
never spoken.
A rule within this mind,
"Be not cruel, be not unkind."
No matter the shape or the size,
tell the truth, no more lies.

First comes the light
of a glowing dawn.
Look then to the grass,
which is very brown.
Green the color seen
in the Spring
is gone away, after a
Summer swing.
Look for objects with
a lingering dew.
I know you will find them,
you always do..
When sunbeams hit the
window pane,
the heat is intense
as if a flame.
Linger not long
in this climate shame.

My sanity is slowly, slipping away.
I'm not myself; it's what I know,
so I had better get with it
and start up the show,
by writing these words, while I still can,
before I can persue, becoming a man.
What does it mean, what I just wrote?
I know not and can't explain,
what is happening to me.
Please help me understand,
for I feel lost and alone,
in a desert, without sand.

Go away.
Go away now.
Search for the truth,
search for the how.
Don't wait for tomorrow,
you must do it now.

Words still rattle
within my head.
Hurtful words,
if I had said
or talked about
the latest;
a slow step into
Alzheimers, for she
knows not the names
of what she sees
or where things
are in the house.
Doesn't know any names
in the abode.
Always needs to be told
which way to go.
There is no memory,
except for...
there is no memory.

No matter where I travel.
No matter where I go,
I will always have my memory
of the beauty of you.

Here I am now,
"long in the tooth."
Hair all white,
skin wrinkled too.
Balance is leaving
and taking a friend,
another good reason
to play, "Let's pretend".
Go away. Go away soon,
as this life may be over
before the next moon.

The writing I do
is confusing to me.
It's biased away
from a realistic truth.
She cannot help it.
Be kind. Don't yell,
for she is doing her best
and I must also do my best.

A cat,
a dog,
a brindle cow.
A cat companion.
A dog to herd.
A cow to moo.
That is absurd
and yet,
on this hot, hot day,
all three found
a place to stay.
Cool it was,
out of the Sun,
with food and
water for everyone.

There isn't a grey cell
within my head.
No awareness
of what to write.
My mind is blank,
no words come to
be used in verse.
So here it is
a fond adieu.

Is it Kismet
or just plain sad?
The hottest day
is on Friday
the thirteenth.