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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I try to run.
I try to hide
from the empty space
which is beside
me now. A void
I cannot replace,
nor shall I try.

Tell me you love me,
I hope you can
to this poor excuse
of a simple, old man.

It finally happened,
I will now relate;
some teen age girls, imitated
my stumbling gait.
As I have aged,
my fitness has waned
as these old bones,
now walk with pain.
My steps are choppy
and I struggle so,
as I wobble more,
wherever I go.
The girls meant me no harm,
it is their way
to have harmless fun.
Besides, I enjoyed the attention.

Sunglasses
A coffee cup
with straw hat,
amongst an empty patio
with umbrellas,
on a beautiful day.

When my wife and our Son
went to lunch with me
and there was much enjoyment;
it's how it should be.
Later the statement and question,
she makes to me.
"Joe is a nice man,
does he have any parents?"
I had expected this question
for many a long time,
so I told her the answer,
"He's your Son and mine."
She said, "Really?" back to me.
My wife wasn't teasing,
as I could plainly see.
A rush of emotion, overpowered
my feelings, bothered my stead,
like a sharp, pointy boot,
straight to my head.
There is pain every where
we now go.,
as more memory is lost
during this insidious show.

A dog with my hat,
clenched tight
in his jaw,
became a tug;
a playful game
and from that point on
I was never the same.