Magazine Posts

They still live amongst the crowd,
speaking of fears; being quite loud.
Peaceful protests, at what cost
of property destruction; merchandise lost.
Attacking the Police, isn't the way.
Tear gas them; now pepper spray.
Pushing back; flashbang noise,
move out now, girls and boys.
Is this the way to negotiate
with out love and only hate?

A long green dress,
blue eyes with lash,
wrapped up with
a purple sash.
Quite a sight,
for these old eyes.
With looks like this
she'd win a prize.

At first it was,
Three steps forward, one step back.
Now it is
Three steps forward, two steps back.
If this ritual changes
It will soon be,
Three steps forward, three steps back
or standing in place, if you keep track.

There was a time,
I made you smile.
A day long ago,
Or quite awhile.
You made me laugh,
You made me sing,
Not well thank you,
It was not my thing.
You talked to me
Of life and of things,
And, of what a family
With some children brings.
Wishing I could talk now;
You no longer know how,
Your thoughts of life before,
Has flown from here
And is no more.
I know that life is not ideal
But I will tell you, Love,
Our life together was real.

Oh Lord
Help me see,
This path I'm on
To insanity.

Tell me a story
about something good
and of the enjoyment
in this fantasy land.
A story of love,
fun and fancy free.
A land of chocolate
with sweet honey bee,
where candy flowers
adorn bush and tree.
Visitors are welcome
as friends, seen before.
Make sure you remove
your shoes at the door.
Take a small basket.
Fill it with a sweet,
for the flowers and plants
are chocolate's to eat.

The shadows dance;
It is not a romance.
They are creatures
who jump and prance.
Rippling light, in the dark.
A different noise; a Lark?
I think not
was said to me.
Justice for all
and to be free.

When I am with you
it is then I see,
the damage done by
your loss of memory.
No recalling our life before.
No memory of where we lived,
gone are names of friends of ours.

Drove by the first house we owned;
No recognition, is what you said,
for most your memories are dead.
Driving to places, we've seen before,
as I attempt to pull memory out,
it's not working, there is no doubt.
I'll keep trying, that is for sure
or my sanity may not endure.

Do you ever have thoughts
of things, all asunder,
when you hear the sound
of a clap of thunder?
I do and my mind starts to roam,
away from the troubles now,
away from the trouble at home.

I threw my notebook on the floor.
My wrists are cramping.
I write no more.

I am truly blessed,
a most fortunate man,
who has a lovely wife
with Dementia; I don't understand
a disease that takes her away,
from living the life we had planned.

I feel a pain, within my chest.
It's the angst in my heart,
for the public unrest.
What can we do,
during this long fight,
to finally be at peace
and sleep through the night?