Magazine Posts

The pain in my hands.
Those I use to write,
these words, that pour
from addled brain mine.
I try to write words clearly
but fine them now hard to read.

No matter what you say or do,
my love goes on just for you.
Remember these words; no you will not
as your memory of our life has been forgot.

You were just here.
Not very long.
Your life was cut short,
finished not your song.

My body aches
My mind is old and musty.
My skin isn't thin
But thick and crusty.
Call me old, that's ok,
For some day I will go away.
In the interim. There is no doubt.
Just march on; don't yell or shout.

I start to stumble.
I start to fall,
down the stairs,
out in the hall.
Why can't I walk,
with an unsteady leg?
Must I fall down
and then have to beg?
My balance, was once my pride,
now it is almost all gone
away from my right side.
My mind is a mess,
of this I am sure,
for I now have duress;
of that I do know.
Good God please help me
for I've no place to go.

You rise in the morning.
I say, "How are you?"
You say, "I don't know,
What I should do?"
Don the slippers,
Put on a robe,
Go downstairs
To the family room.
Open the garage door
To retrieve the Times.
Sit down on the couch,
Tell me, "I'm cold
And so tired."
Read the paper,
And remark to me,
"Do you know this person?"
I say, "I know who it is,
But don't know him."
That is our morning start,
Almost every day.

As the dew, leaves the Rose,
when the Sun passes by,
deepening the shadows,
beneath the blue gossamer sky.
It is there I will meet you
under the Wisteria, growing anew.
For all the plans that didn't come true
and the promises made
at our last goodbye
said with a whisper and a long sigh,

You seem fine in the day time,
during the rain or sunlight.
What happens to you in the evening,
where does your mind go at night?

I ran a lot when I was young and would do so, after work.
Running down my favorite route, on 148th Ave NE. as
it was well lit and I could see ahead.
I had my Sony Walkman on my hip and was listening to
an FM station. Probably rock and roll as the beat was,
for me, easier to make my run with the beat of the
music.
As I tired, the tendency was for me to not lift my feet
as high as a normal stride. Apparently I was doing a
little shuffle and my toe caught a raised slab of the
sidewalk. At the time, I also played Soccer and had a
defense mechanism when hit or losing your balance.
I tripped and automatically went into a "tuck and roll"
and came back up to me feet. I quickly looked around
to see if I had been noticed. I wasn't.
Checked myself out, no damage and the Sony was still
cranking out a tune.
The next day at work I was relating my accident to a fellow
runner. He asked I had hurt myself. I said no, but as I
reached for the spot where my Walkman had been, I felt
a slight pain. Shortly after that I had acquired a small
bruise, that I swear had the word Sony, in my skin.
The moral of the story is to keep running, no matter what, as you
never know what is chasing you.

I want to travel. I want to go
to the land where the Wild Iris grows.
A peaceful place, with seas of blue.
I need to escape the thoughts of you.
You with brown eyes, silver wavy hair,
who's a joy in life is no longer there.
Dementia caused this change, I see.
You will soon no longer be with me.
The lung cancer was treated, cured just fine
but the Chemo treatment, took away your mind.
No memories of our past life and friends.
No longer the love as our life together, ends.

Your random thoughts, in early evening
are like scattering birds in a field.
There is little logic in your discussion;
nothing I understand nor can yield.
As stated before; in daytime your fine,
but when evening draws nigh, your mind
seems to wander; no place to go.
The questions you ask; are answers I don't know.

Someone I worked with
almost every day,
would come in asking of me,
a question or two.
My usual answer,
I would say "I don't remember,
but I'll look on my desk."
This happened many times,
not just a few.
She said to me with a very nice
smile, "I'll call you Al, short for
Alzheimer, if you keep saying
that.
In my defense I would find the
item we discussed, providing
the answer, that was my stead.
A long time ago. Now an old
friend. I'm the old one.
Thank you for your patience
over the years and thank
you for resuming the
friendship.