Magazine Posts

Fractured the words.
Broken apart,
into small piece,
like my aching heart.

Words can be repaired,
replaced or torn apart,
but they shouldn't be said,
in affairs of the heart.

When the life we have,
is like a flag unfurled,
what happens next,
when your Soul is curled?

Curled up, in twisted fold,
never will it be,
when life returns
and is no longer free?

The wind was cold,
an Artic blast,
he remembered
a forgotten past.

Too many years,
a time so vast,
a magic spell
had been cast.

Time had flown,
persistently fast.
A new beginning?
It would be his last.

Light beamed, from out the dark,
through shaded windows, a part
of the old houses charm,
to soothe his broken heart.

She lived across the road
in a rural way of life.
He fell in love, pursuing her,
wanting her to be his wife.

A small-town girl she was,
full of vigor, free of strife,
They had wed, becoming a couple
and man and wife.

They lived in simple times,
most years of their life.
Dementia came
and their world became trife.

Five, five, five, five,
where is your heart?
Listen, listen, listen, listen,
to me from the start.

Be with me tonight,
relive the memories, old,
when we were young.
No goodbyes, nothing bold.

"Help me", said the ancient one
besmirched.
"I cannot" was the answer,
"Unresearched."

"Leave me be", I said
about the morrow,
for you know not
about the sorrow.

"Why do you tease me?"
he said.
"You know nothing at all about
being dead."

Want not those things in life,
for you may never see,
the blindness of your folly.
It will never be.

Aches and pains I feel now,
will never go away,
or your life will end on
your personal judgement day

Words keep spilling,
out of my mind.
Should it matter,
if they are unkind?

Looking, I found
old words on the floor.
Words tossed aside,
not to be used anymore.

Words have a shelf life,
almost everyone knows,
there isn't any argument,
no coming to blows.

Old words, quite common,
there's no need to shirk,
when using old words,
don't be surprised, they work.

Old words, new words,
what's that about,
if you don't like them,
go ahead, leave them out.

Bits of matter,
float in the air.
Words disintegrated,
in dis-repair.

I want naught,
Peace will do.
Riches, don't need,
want to be with you.

Long were the sounds,
bells in the air.
A melodic tune,
heard everywhere.

Lost was the love,
which once was ours.
Lost but not forgotten
resting in the stars.

Twas the night before,
you said to me,
"The night has a thousand eyes"
I was blind and could not see.