She said to me,
"I can't recall yesterday,
what we did
or the words we said."

Fire burning bright,
A flickering light.
Wood is green,
Wet to you.
Smoke curls
Around the room.

Last night was different,
last night was strange.
You didn't know
our children's names.
You asked me again,
over and over to say,
"How many children do we have<
what are their names?"

Because the love of another
drove you away from me.
I hope you'll be happy,
happier than me.

"Good grief"
said he,
as he knocked
on the door.
"I had no
idea, you were,
on the 30th floor.

An emotional wreck,
I have become,
for I weep silently,
as I know what's to come.
A slow decline
and memory fades,
the eroding Dementia
is here, every day.

The veins stood out on
the side of his head.
The beat of his heart could
be seen pulsing away,
as the heart did its work.

A vein in your body,
a vein of gold.
Vane, as in Ego,
only the bold,
who think of themselves
before others, I'm told.

I stare at your pillow,
where your face, use to be,
It's empty! You're not there,
then I awake, I see you again.
I do not like this dream,
not one bit for it tells me
how close we may be to
the end of our dreams.

I have developed a liking
for Asian melodramas, Japanese,
Korean, Chinese and Taiwanese.
They provide an escape from my
worries of my wife's slow slide
from Dementia into Alzheimer's.
They are beneficial during the hours
I am unable to sleep.
A sucker for these stories that involve,
a women and man with involvement or
competition from others. I have also,
adapted to the subtitles in English with
the melodic narrative of the foreign language.
My story, my escape.

I write words
about words
and how they
interact or play
against one another.

As an example:
Alone in a crowd.
quiet but loud
was the noise
with the boys.
Insanity is just
a small step into
the inane. Did I
mean insane?
No inane, simply
stupid.
Long may he live
long may he wander
trying to find his
place in the Sun.
Did he ever start,
did he decide,
He couldn't be fast
on a slow ride.
Sorry just trying
to clean the cobwebs
from this brain as it
approaches senility.

Buy me a drink
the next time we meet
and I'll tell you a story,
which will be my treat.

You broke through the day.
You turned off the light.
I didn't realize,
you wanted to fight.
Your hurtful words
will affect me, not.
You are lost,
in your reverie,
so don't find fault
and try to blame me.