Dead Tired

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Finally, the end of the longest day of my life was over. The tears of the past months now free to flow yet strangely absent. This old house quieter than ever, the door closing behind me and the true sense of emptiness was now being felt as I never thought possible.

Leading up to my wife’s death, friends, family and of course my daughter were always close by and the grief shared by all. Now the house is dark as I stand in the hallway not wanting to turn on the light for fear of seeing the reality of finally being alone.

The hall was brighter just this morning as the sun rose and my daughter and I went off to the funeral parlor for Liz, my wife’s final service before our trip to the cemetery. The morning was crisp and clear, a distant smell of lilac hung in the air as the cars lined up for the procession.

The route chosen was considerably longer than necessary but a twisty country road in full spring bloom is a sight to be enjoyed, even if it to be the last. The funeral itself was as beautiful as anyone could expect, the morning mist lingered in the new day and the birds serenaded in the background as hundreds of mourners passed to show love, friendship and respect for a truly remarkable person. A woman whom I loved deeply for many, many years but now feeling I never fully acknowledged as a person or professional and was regretting having not expressed it more when she was alive. I hoped she knew of my love and respect for her as a mother and friend, as a physician, scientist and teacher and of course as a very lucky man’s wife.

The next few days a similar sad and hazy blur, I just roamed from one room to the next recalling all the little things that happened in each one over the thirty years living here. Each had a story, a laugh or tear, all where ours, our colors, our furniture, our books and our clutter. Each and every piece a memory and all memories of an instant in time to never be repeated. A life time that was a life’s time in the making and yet gone in an instant.

Life goes on I’m told and I would like to believe that. I’m sure for many it does. For some however it’s just not meant to be. I realized this when the crumpled remains of my car was dumped in my driveway minutes ago. And I never got to say goodbye.

The End

sck061817 / dft

Again and Again

I’d love to see you come again,
to see what you’ve been missing.
All this time in between,
could be filled with lots more kissing.
~
Every second that you’re gone,
my body still feels your heat.
And when you do return,
my heart does skip a beat.
~
Why the need to take a rest,
this night’s still quite young.
Place your cheek close to mine.
And we’ll climb another rung.
~
Bliss will follow then we’ll sleep.
Our dreams will light the dark.
The morning will then beckon.
And we’ll ignite a new day’s spark.

~*~
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Good Morning

In a lovers contortion, bodies in place;
hip to hip and face to face.
Skin is warm to each other’s touch.
Legs search a waist to clutch.
~
Hands explore, caress and hold,
journeys had never told.
Breathing heavy with kisses between.
Smiles glow, the brightest seen.
~
Heart beats in-sync, whispers heard.
Tremors felt without a word.
Nose to nose adoring eyes meet.
Souls at rest, the day we greet.

~*~
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Bird Brains

I woke up early and the sky was gray.
The world’s in turmoil yet I’ve little to say.
But the birds are happy in the mulberry tree.
I can hear them laughing, maybe at me.
~
They see our world from high above,
whether gull, robin or mourning dove.
Their time alive is soaring free,
while looking down on you and me.
~
For if to fly like a bird,
we’d then flock but never herd.
We’d hatch into a nest well made,
free of worry cos no rent’s paid.
~
Just think of the places we could go.
We could fly south before the snow.
We could eat berries, bugs and worms,
pretty much anything that wiggles or squirms.
~
There’d be no alarms or jobs we hate.
We could fly to the stars our very first date.
Then glide back down to a favorite tree.
There we’d rest harmoniously.
~
But we’re not birds and that’s a shame.
Our lives are grounded and mostly tame.
But if to wish on this day that’s gray,
I’d poop on those who stand in the way.
~
So maybe my wish is not about birds.
It’s about people I think are turds,
those who’ve prevented a world of peace,
for you and me and a gaggle of geese.

~*~
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Odds Are

In the shadow of a city a child was born.
Decades festered to bubbling scorn.
His body grew large, his head grew bigger,
the search then on for a prized gold digger.
~
On tabloid pages their faces were strewn,
with scandals, bankruptcies and words of a goon.
Followed by lawyers paid a great sum,
ensuring victims would always stay mum.
~
While spreading his hate he found his niche.
And being a narcissist he saw no glitch.
He bolstered and bragged about a huge brain.
Some saw a genius, others felt pain.
~
Despite all his faults a following was had.
His greatness he shared, the world was sad.
Money poured in from sources unknown.
Bull shit prospered and a candidate was grown.
~
A show was hatched, reality lacking,
the outcome was known, dependent on hacking.
Conspiracies hurled, truth unconsidered,
fears unleashed and thinking dithered.
~
A president forged by the art of the steal.
In a backseat he waved with a spy at the wheel.
An immigrant descended a hypocrite ascended.
The “We” now he or so he amended.
~
A king is made with prince and princess.
While the queen hung back at a different address.
A cabinet assembled to kiss his fat ass.
Powers promised to those who could pass.
~
Those dismissed soon wrote a book.
Others were jailed for being a crook.
Impeachment inevitable, a sigh of relief,
a shakeup at justice led to more grief.
~
Leadership needed toward the end of his term.
But the mask’s inconvenient because of his perm.
Independence day past (let that sink in…),
freedom being fragile when destroyed from within.
~
The summer is here though different than most.
As the deaths in this nation is nothing to boast.
But autumn will come and the chips will fall.
A choice we will make, winner takes all.

~*~
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Forever More

There are parts of her I’ve yet to kiss.
But all will be found and none I’ll miss.
Her lips well covered her face always more,
her neck I long to further explore.
~
Her lobes enjoyed and nibbled much.
Her body quivers to my gentle touch.
Passion ensues and intuition guides.
New destinations found as my tongue glides.
~
Her response is felt on my warm lips,
whilst hands caress her soft round hips.
The kissing proceeds from her head to toes.
But parts in-between I shan’t expose.

~*~
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Peccadillo

Internet addiction comes in many forms.
Some quite explicit but most fit the norms.
My own peccadillo doesn’t seem so very bad.
It often makes me happy and rarely makes me sad.
~
I fantasize of beauty, this I will admit.
I love shape and form with a dash of wit.
Though some look unnatural with parts all askew,
their faces slapped together are seemingly taboo.
~
Pages scroll before my eyes as I stare in awe.
Wasted time’s a problem but not against the law.
Ads fill my mailbox, an embarrassment to see.
Each has a pitch but nothing’s ever free.
~
Though I’ve spent no money or caught some disease,
my constant oohs and aahs can cause some unease.
I may have my issues but certainly I’m no louse.
I’m just very anal looking for a house.

~*~
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Bursting at the Seems

The Holiday’s behind us,
a new year has begun.
The world it seems in turmoil,
why can’t we live as one.
~
The climate seemingly haywire,
continent’s now ablaze.
Glacier’s melting into the seas,
but to some it’s just a phase.
~
Leaders seem oblivious,
striving only for your vote.
Sycophants follow blindly,
getting screwed while they gloat.
~
War now seems inevitable,
missiles flying everywhere.
Pinheads pushing buttons,
could this be our final year?
~
Do I seem pessimistic,
or are things as they seem?
Maybe it’s time to wake up,
this ain’t no F’n dream.

~*~
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Whip It Up

While watching TV like a slouch,
love can be made on the couch.
Or while eating tacos in candlelight,
or an extra kiss when saying goodnight.
~
Bad breath be damned, it’s the sunrise,
I kiss her cheeks till she opens her eyes.
Good morning’s shared and our day’s begun.
We need no plans cos everything’s fun.
~
We’ll relax in PJ’s, our hair a mess;
we’ll sip some coffee until we dress.
Smiles are traded with every glance.
But I smile less when she puts on her pants.
~
Laughter’s abundant with the joy we’ve found.
Our harmony’s felt with every sound.
Yes, love can be made most anywhere.
Just two things needed then blended with care.

~*~
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Hopeful Beginnings

The first day of life starts today.
If there’s a second I can’t say.
So today I’m gonna do my best,
I’ll eat some veggies and get my rest.
~
I’ll smile at every passerby.
I’ll say hello and wave goodbye.
I’ll give my love some extra kisses.
I’ll try my hardest to fulfill her wishes.
~
I’ll write a poem that brings folk’s joy.
I’ll use all the tricks magicians employ.
I’ll write something funny and something sweet.
I’ll go upstairs soon and tickle some feet.
~
I’ll nibble some toes and lick some knees.
I’ll massage some thighs if I please.
I’ll whisper “I love you” in waiting ears.
And hope this first day lasts for years.

~*~
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Beerly

My beer’s warm and my bed’s cold.
My wife ran off and my car’s real old.
My dog’s half dead but that’s OK,
I can’t afford to feed him anyway.
~
The kids don’t talk to me anymore.
I go to see mom and she locks the door.
So I go to see dad in the old boneyard.
I drink and I cry and I fall real hard.
~
I get so drunk I can’t even stand.
I woke up once covered in sand.
My toilet’s broke so I pee in the sink.
There’s a shed outside, that’s where I think.
~
I got no lights to turn off or on.
The landlord screams “why ain’t you gone
But don’t weep for me cos I ain’t sad.
I ain’t never had a beer’s that bad.

~*~
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Whom Me

There’s another me I’ve yet to see.
And this other me won’t let this one be.
Both see with my eyes and screw with my head.
But only one’s good, the other better off dead.
~
Never certain whom will wake,
or the trouble they will make.
Their highs often go way, way too far,
their lows always leaving a scar.
~
I need to know from where this comes,
who eats cake and who gets crumbs?
This rollercoaster must soon stop,
but then a merry-go-round I will hop.
~
I’m forcing this poem for a change,
may not be good but surely strange.
And maybe someday we can all agree,
whom the f*** is the real me.

~*~
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Splash!

There once an old dude,
who was quite crude,
the town folk thought him rude.
~
After many a year in love he fell,
his flame however said “go to hell”.
His desires she’d never quell.
~
A stormy winter slowly passed by.
Accustomed to rejection, the dude wasn’t shy.
And persistent he was to always ask why.
~
The spring finally came,
his flame stayed the same,
himself the dude thought to blame.
~
The summer surely hot,
the dude surely not,
his cool long since shot.
~
Autumn’s bluster in the air,
his flame did flicker, he did flare.
The time had tempered each with care.
~
With a Christmas snow soon to arrive,
fire and ice made water to dive.
His flame’s heart thawed and their love did thrive.

~*~
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Dig It

Sitting in silence alone with my thought,
thinking of time when quiet’s sought.
But time it seems does not align,
to my plans or grand design.
~
Intersections come to bear,
a train of thought gets us there.
Whistles and bells are sure to please,
with some steam we’ll never freeze.
~
We’ll shovel shit to eat some bread.
Or dig ever deeper into our head.
Pain’s always felt to reach the goal.
The track we choose carries our soul.
~
I play with words cos it’s fun.
And when I’m hollow, I’ll be done.

~*~
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Seeing the Light

Shades of perfection –
a pause for reflection.
Softness felt on shapely curves,
a goddess of light, calming nerves.
~
Time stands still shaped in stone.
A memory forged, never alone.
Shadows illuminate visions anew.
Shades of perfection – as are you!

~*~
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Special thanks to the unknown photographer and inspirational model 🙂

On a Roll

Her scent lingers, I flushed away.
I sense the push of another shitty day.
She polluted my mind and soiled my bed.
Leave me alone, get out of my head!
~
We fed our needs and ate our cake.
Her outside sweet, her inside’s fake.
Her taste and touch I felt were real.
Now pinched cheeks is all I feel.
~
My hand shades so not so crass,
this burst of gas I hope to pass.
And groan some notes for a while,
refreshing again this steaming pile.
~
Time trickles naturally.
But stand I must eventually.
A gentle pull will clear the residue.
Her memory wiped but some sticks like glue.

~*~
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Morning Triku #177 ~ Random Waves

Beyond the Glass

My windows are closed.
The air cold and leaves fallen.
Yet birds sing somewhere.
~

Sticky

With the glue of two,
broken hearts can mend anew.
Or someone gets stuck.
~

Self-Love

Love Unimpassioned,
is much like one hand clapping,
every morning.

~*~
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Out to Pasture

Syphilis at seventy is no one’s first choice.
But after the shots you will rejoice.
For the seconds enjoyed in youthful bliss,
it’s worth every minute of that long painful piss.
.
Second chances are rarely found,
chances less when soon in the ground.
The time is now to sow those oats.
So munch away you horny old goats.

~*~
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