Passing Time

Another pill,
Another day goes by
and every day is repitition.
until it's time for me to pass.
My craziness is my excuse for
doing nothing that isn't painful
or stupid.
I don't want to hurt anyone
I'm just trying to rush
the passing time. 

Love

When my spirit swells
within it's shell,
In the thickness of my soul
I'm feeling love.
A love not built by romance
but nourished in kindness
and I am here watching in awe
at your refined wisdom

The Joke

The children did it.
It was just play.
A bit of mischief
on a summer day.
In their cut off jeans
and their dusty toes
They strung the wire
from the telephone poles.

Invisible thin in the skipping sun.

They muffled their giggles,
Crouched among brittle weeds.
Waited for a startled car
to break their naughty deed.

They weren't expecting 
Jenny on her bike.
Pushing the pedals
then gliding the breeze
Golden hair waving
Lifted chin
Riding the wind
Freedom cut
by the wire thin
into her wind
pipe

Jenny on her bike 
They weren't expecting.

Nightmare

Graveyards and accidents
Shot in the face and laughing.
A man in my bed
Intruding my body.
Fear and anxiety exploding.
Opening the window
Pushing on the screen.
Hanging half way out
unable to scream.
I waken
Sweating.

Mirrors

Looking at my exposed feelings
My open wounds that sting,
You may notice your own 
similar emotions that sting.
Like looking past me
An image in a mirror.
I don't blame you 
for wanting to break the mirror.

Back and Forth

While I'm happy
I feel like singing
I love the world
It's sunshine and
bright colors.
The people and the
conversations.
I feel affection, love,
people caring about 
each other.
I can do anything!

When I'm sad,
I live in a hole,
Damp and mildewed,
Always in the dark
People gossiping,
Acting as if it's their job
to complain.

I hide in my room.
Worse than uncared about.
Afraid of people's abuse.

I can handle moods swings
if it doesn't happen
within a few hours
Back and Forth

Being Genuine

Honesty brings daylight
Melts the snow
Uncovers the hidden 
Blessings
That had been buried
Beneath the dirty air.

On Purpose

I feel that people think
I'm making the whole thing up.
I don't know how to do that.
I don't need to.
My symptoms scream at the world,
with words and actions.
I don't need to create things.
I have enough already.

A Generation Leaving

As a part of this world,
we all, in our own time
slip away  from this existence.

As we near our departure,
our numbers decrease.
The crowd of people 
who need each other
Gradually thinning 
like aging hair.
Another generation 
Slips
away.

The Cafe

We've been in this cafe before.
In the booth I see my friend, Jeannie
Who turns into Marion
Who turns into Michael
and Judy and Kevin, Jill and the rest.
In this cafe we talk and
enjoy each other
over and over
again.  

The Retirement Home

Our bodies and minds
are wearing out.
Our loved one send us here
to live with strangers
with a variety of backgrounds,
personalities and temperaments.
We pass time by watching each other.
Like we are all part of a soap opera.

We are provided food, therapy
and entertainment.
They do or work, 
laundry and cleaning..

As time passes
we lose track of  the days,
months and years 
and Christmas keeps coming.

Eventually, we pass 
and more worn out people
fill our space.

The Decision

Almost ten years ago
I mad e a decision
to have a surgery
that would continue my life.
I don't want to make 
that  decision again
and I am thankful that
It's not up to me.

Fellings

At sixty seven years old,
I look back
remembering events
that can make me laugh
or put me in the depths of despair.
It feels so permanent,
but it's not.