Magazine Posts

Memories are the building blocks of
recalling the love, you had at the moment
and the feelings you have now.

Where has love gone?
When did it flee,
running with purpose,
away from me?

Will I find it again,
as something you bring,
or is it no longer there,
when it was just a thing?

I believe our Soul,
flees, when we die.
I don't know if it,
returns for another try.

Another try, for
a better life.
Something to ponder,
or think about twice.

If you think you've,
been here before,
and there is a special portal,
or a brand-new door,

to a different life, then
I now implore,
do your best and
come back for more.

See you in your dreams,
let's not keep score.
Just remember your life,
the time before.

I write of a tale
from long ago,
bout the place,
the Red Ferns grow.

Compassion for others,
not as privileged as thy,
reviewed from their perception,
of me, not I.

Wind blowing through
Willow branches
mostly leaves.
Shadows fall into trees.

Darkness surrounds,
then I see thee.
Where have you been,
my lovely one?

Day is ending,
with the setting Sun.
It's then I awake,
there is no one.

Apothecary jar,
bones, by the bag,
with eye of newt.
This recipe is a drag.

Moonlight streaming,
through mottled light,
if we are to survive,
we must fight.

A short tour
in the South Pacific.
I believe I may have
been twenty years old.

My mind is fuzzy,
can't write a clear thought.
Perhaps I need more than
the egg rolls I bought.

A small light appears,
in the back of my mind.
A fresh word is seen.
I hope it will find,

a new path home,
so, my head will clear.
It may not last, but
I still think of you dear.

When there aren't any words,
to write about life changes,
there are only so many,
words which work with exchanges,

for a peaceful transition,
from sadness to woe,
another dimension
of understanding when slow.

There are times to reflect
on what used to be,
as shown by this picture when
I was in the United States Navy.

Sometimes things happen,
this you should know.
Memories will fade
and your mind will slow.

Thoughts, which were clear,
when used yesterday,
are missing in action,
or have gone away.

Can memories be recovered?
I believe they can.
Look at some photos,
then you will understand.

Words lay in piles,
on the dining room floor.
Words used, cast offs,
not used anymore.

The problem with that,
as said before,
they become redundant,
when not working anymore.

Words are recyclable,
can vary in size.
Just say, I'm sorry,
there will be no surprise.