Dead Tired

.
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

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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Pencilicillin

I think my pencil’s broken,
nothing’s coming out.
I’ve tried lots of paper,
now I’m feeling doubt.
~
Could it be a dream,
the writing that I’ve done?
Or perhaps a nightmare,
this time I’ve spent as one.
~
I wake up every morning,
before the sun will rise.
My chair awaits its ass,
glasses await their eyes.
~
Coffee I will slurp,
watching hours burn.
If I were a younger man,
it’d be of less concern.
~
Time is not to waste,
though I shouldn’t squawk.
My pencils served me well,
though I may try chalk.
~
I know I need my fix,
words do the trick.
Perhaps I’m not a poet,
just really, really sick.

~*~
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A Bad Story

A story begins when an adventure’s been had.
And for two young lads their end was bad.
They choose to skip school on a bright sunny day.
While deep in the woods the sky turned gray.
~
They veered from the path when a chipmunk ran past.
They bolted and darted but the critters too fast.
Resting beneath a lush canopy of green,
the fast moving clouds they hadn’t seen.
~
The temperature dropped as the sky turned black.
The boys had no clue of how they’d get back.
Rain fell in buckets, the pair soaked to the bone.
The howls and growls meant they weren’t alone.
~
The pair was now hungry, cold, tired and afraid.
Both very sorry for the choices they made.
Each made a promise to do as they should.
And if they survived they’d always be good.
~
Shivering all night, either could sleep.
A nightmare they lived while both counted sheep.
Through teary eyes a new dawn was seen,
and the boys now as happy as they’d ever been.
~
They rose with a burst and sang out in joy.
Then a bear was spotted and she was no toy.
The children screamed and ran off in fear.
But the bear stayed put with berries so near.
~
Each boy choose a different path, now each alone,
if ever reunited both now more grown.
The day warmed up nicely and a search was begun.
But unfortunately by sunset they’d only found one.
~
Days past and reinforcements were called in.
The lake was dragged and patience grew thin.
The boys’ chance of survival was now very slim.
Most of the town folk figured the bear had found him.
~
The police told his parents clothing was found.
And also nearby there was blood on the ground.
The boys’ mom screamed seeing his shirt.
It being torn and bloody and covered with dirt.
~
The search was called off that day at sunset.
The boy that was found was now full of regret.
Another week passed and a service was planned.
A headstone was chosen and shovels were manned.
~
The church was full with mourners from afar.
Then a ranger drove up with a boy in the car.
The boy ran in the church yelling “I’m sorry and glad”.
“I’m glad to be alive but sorry for being bad”.
~
Hugged by his parents who were both quite relieved.
He then told his story that’s hard to be believed.
Punished all summer, he was not allowed out.
The adventure was uncertain, but a story, no doubt.

The End

~*~
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Glad Sad

I haven’t written much of late, my brain has been askew.
I search the news constantly seeking something new.
The summer is upon us and the birds sing with glee.
I’m not sure if they’re happy or just teasing you and me.
~
While we were trapped inside the wildlife had its way.
But soon we’ll be back out and ruin their perfect day.
The roads were nearly empty with few planes overhead.
The plants bloomed on schedule and the animals all well fed.
~
Their air was a bit cleaner and the noise was nearly nil.
And while they frolicked peacefully we tested our will.
This poem is nearly over as I watch the cars pass by.
I’m glad we’re almost normal now but for the animals I will cry.

~*~
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Writing Time

I woke this morning to a bright sunny day.
There’s a chill in the air, but that’s OK.
I had a good rest and that’s something new.
But when I check the news I’m sure to feel blue.
~
While writing this poem today I had a novel thought.
I’ll skip the news for now and feel much less fraught.
I’m not irresponsible because I really do care.
I just need some time to live without the fear.
~
My hair is turning gray, but that could be just age.
The time comes for all to turn another page.
A chapter’s surely ending and a new one will begin.
But will it be a tome or a volume very thin?
~
Time will surely pass as it always does.
Will we seek tomorrows or the way it was?
Our story’s now converged, edits now have past.
The final word is ours but we’d better make it fast.

~*~
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Fluff n’ Stuff

My mind is blank and I don’t know why.
I watched the sun rise in the sky.
I’ve got my pencil and a pad.
The day’s bright and temp’s not bad.
~
The news is filled with lots of stuff.
Some of it’s scary but most just fluff.
Life is good, I can’t complain.
I feel great, I have no pain.
~
I’ve things to do and the list is long.
Or do nothing but that feels wrong.
I’m not too bothered when I can’t write.
I might tomorrow if not tonight.
~
Just a start is usually all I need,
a couple of words to plant the seed.
Then the wheels turn and the page is filled.
Good or bad, again I’m thrilled.
~
So I’ll keep you posted as to my progress.
Hopefully I’ll have success.
But if not, that too is OK.
I’ll say good morning some other way.

~*~
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Dreaming Dreams Dreamt

Risen from the depths of gloom and dread,
cobwebs wiped from my sleepy head.
I awoke to a day of bright sunshine.
I looked out the window to see the world was mine.
~
To the bathroom I went to do my thing.
Perched was I as the birdies sing.
I then strode to the mirror and to my surprise;
the bags were gone from beneath my eyes.
~
My hair was perfect with none out of place.
The wrinkles of time were now gone from my face.
I raced downstairs to greet this new day.
I skipped and danced every step of the way.
~
While making my coffee an alarm I heard.
I thought to myself, now that seems absurd.
Next thing I knew I was back in bed,
pulling the covers from over my head.
~
My room was the same, still dark and gray.
Cold and wet was predicted today.
The nightmare passed but the dream still unclear.
But awakened was I to awake with her near.

~*~
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Too Much

I’m starting to think my phone’s a crutch.
It’s found in my hand far too much.
I glance at the news every ten minutes or so.
And the weather’s known wherever I go.
~
When I’m bored I’ve got games to play.
And there’s blogs I check every day.
My music’s there with more to explore.
I now have no reason to go out the door.
~
I’ve got mail and text and a video chat.
I could take selfies, but I don’t do that.
But I do like the camera and it’s often used.
Apparently I’m sneaky, or so I’m accused.
~
The flashlight illuminates the darkest of night.
And the calculator’s cool when I want numbers right.
There’s also a calendar to plan out my day.
And a G.P.S. to help guide my way.
~
I could write a story but typing’s a pain.
I could try my thumbs but see little to gain.
I can search the web for whatever I choose.
I’ve got alarms to disrupt my snooze.
~
And there’s more I’m sure but I don’t care,
I kinda wish it wasn’t even here.
Oh and the phone, that’s not used too much,
because I still prefer an analog touch.
~
This poem could go on for days on end,
I could type it all and just hit send.
It might not be finished, but no one would know.
Oh darn it’s ringing, I gotta go.

~*~

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Freedom or Choice

I woke today and the world was new.
What was normal is now askew.
Trapped in the house for weeks on end,
I’ve borrowed time but none to lend.
~
Rules have changed but habits not.
A little space is now a lot.
Smiles once shared now go missing.
Waves are fine, but please, no kissing.
~
Looking out; cars drive by.
Looking up; I see blue sky.
Looking down; I see two feet.
Looking in; I fear the street.
~
Tensions eased but not its force.
I need escape but not remorse.
Masks mask the pressure we face.
Hopefully patience wins this race.
~
The time will come when now is past.
That day’s coming, I hope I last.
But to be sure I’ll just stay home.
Perhaps tomorrow again I’ll roam.

~*~
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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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Optimisery

Weeks slipping by, time’s running out.
Life’s shut in the outsides in doubt.
The vibe of the day’s now on mute.
Videos sought for anything cute.
~
The outdoors greening, flowers in bloom.
The house’s dust free, yet still a tomb.
The future’s awaited with joy and fear.
Normality’s coming but when’s not clear.
~
Day’s getting longer, the sun’s less bright.
Nights give respite, dreams take flight.
Tomorrows will come and none too soon.
May may be good but if not then June.

~*~
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Old News

A milestone’s coming and it’ll be soon,
decades in wait, seen many a moon.
Suns have risen and all have set.
There’ll be a last, but not there yet.
~
A half dozen here and a half dozen there,
a middle’s been found, but I don’t care.
The body’s slowing, as is the mind.
Questions answered but still more to find.
~
Thoughts now scattered as a puzzle unmade.
Borders redrawn as the memories fade.
Steps now higher as heights decline.
Trips once painful now feel fine.
~
Aggression decreases and assertiveness rules.
Passivity wanes when there’s less to lose.
Life’s still good with passion unfazed.
With a muse to love I’m daily amazed.
~
The support of all knows no ends.
Thanks to be given to family and friends.
Yes, a milestone’s coming, but it won’t be bad.
Sixty’s just a number, no need to be sad.

~*~
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The Rebirth

I think today’s Saturday but I’m not sure.
It’s just another day waiting for a cure.
I tossed and turned all through the night.
I awoke to darkness but the sky was bright.
~
My input seems to be running out.
In silence I wish to scream and shout.
Coffee’s running low and milk’s getting old.
Veggies growing limp and bread’s growing mold.
~
The toilet paper’s still in good supply.
My hands scrubbed raw so I won’t die.
The day then turned the dullest of gray.
But it doesn’t really matter, cos in we’ll stay.
~
Plans for the future now put on hold.
So inside we’ll wait until we’re told.
I’ll make some calls to those I miss.
I’ll wake my sweetheart with a kiss.
~
While trying not to get the blues,
we’ll start our day with the news.
Breakfast we’ll share with lots of love.
And we’ll thank our lucky stars above.
~
We’ll visit the world on the screen.
We’ll watch the grass turning green.
We’ll happily spend time doing chores,
hoping for a chance to get outdoors.
~
I simply can’t bear another TV show.
The cars got gas but there’s nowhere to go.
Perhaps we’ll walk, but not too far.
Or we’ll play some cards and guitar.
~
We’ll write a little and maybe draw.
I’ll tell her she’s the cutest I ever saw.
We’ll have our supper with a candle lit.
Then it’s off to bed to read for a bit.
~
We’ll reflect on these times we now live in.
Then dream of the next to soon begin;
when doors will open from our self-made tomb,
awakened all, to a new spring bloom.

~*~
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Believe It Why Not

I have a plan to save mankind.
I’ve just a few things left to find.
First is a place we all can hide.
It’ll need big windows to feel outside.
~
Next is food, but we can’t be too picky,
just nothing too spicy, gooey or sticky.
There’s coffee, for sure with sugar and cream,
then a really big bed for all to dream.
~
We’ll need some music so bring guitars.
Smoking’s optional but no cigars.
There’s no heavy drinking or hard drugs.
No need for violence or unruly thugs.
~
There will be no jail or a court.
So bring no weapons of any sort.
We’ll all need to promise to get along.
It sounds pretty easy, what can go wrong.
~
You’ll never find a happier place.
It’ll fill up fast so reserve your space.
Now one last thing before I take leave;
it’s best not come if you can’t believe.

~*~
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Webs in the Attic

I sit at the kitchen table waiting for thoughts to come.
So far none’s forthcoming; I’m hoping there’ll be some.
Time is quickly passing as I stare off into space.
If wasting time were a sport I know I’d win the race.
~
But words don’t run on tracks and thoughts know no time.
But if patience is a virtue then waiting is no crime.
Procrastination is a different thing, results will find away.
It’s a choice that we make to give away our say.
~
Yesterdays’ may be gone but our actions will remain.
Mistakes made along the way will leave a lasting stain.
We wake each day to change, thinking everything’s the same.
But time moves only forward and tomorrows’ we cannot tame.
~
We’ll take our deepest breath and dive in head first.
We try to make the biggest splash to satisfy our thirst.
The volumes fill up fast, their content is our own.
The good we see in others reflects on how we’ve grown.
~
The time is getting late and I’m fading fast.
Why must the future wait while sleeping off the past?
So I’ll wait another day for something new to write.
The winter blues are passing and mornings looking bright.
~
Optimism’s on the rise though heights often chill.
Pessimism is an easy fall but the bottom is no thrill.
Windows will soon be open and fresh starts will appear.
And those webs in the attic just need the spring to clear.

~*~
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Sanctuary

On the lookout for my last place to dwell,
some were OK, some looked like hell.
Seen a grand old home in a bad part town,
but it was too high and they wouldn’t come down.
~
We saw one so scary, ghosts wouldn’t live there.
I’m picky I know but I think that I’m fair.
My home now is charming; I’ve been here for years.
Saying goodbye I’ll probably shed tears.
~
I’m close to a harbor and a quaint Main street.
My neighbors are close but mostly discrete.
I have no garage and I’d like some land.
I’d prefer something wooded to the beach sand.
~
Though a lakeside retreat would surely be fun,
I’d soon be drowned paying for one.
I’d like something older and properly restored.
I don’t need a hobby cos I’m never bored.
~
I don’t need a compound or a pasture for beasts.
But a barn would be nice to house family feast.
So the search goes on, but I’ve no worries or fright.
It’s like finding true love; you know when it’s right.

~*~
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Dreaming Tomorrows

Another day of quitting to quit,
another day to feel like a twit.
My morning had started pretty well,
but as the day warmed so did my hell.
~
So I jumped in my car to cool my head,
but took a wrong turn and to the store I sped.
I bought some milk and tobacco too.
Then I limped home and smoked till blue.
~
Tomorrow’s gladly another day.
I’ll rise optimistic with demons at bay.
Boiling water the urges will swell.
The heat will be on then back to hell.
~
Will I submit or stand and fight?
The battle lost the end’s in sight.
But now it’s to bed to dream as I do.
Will there be many or be just a few?

~*~
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Dreaming Valentine’s

So is the end of another Valentine’s Day,
all the confetti’s been vacuumed away.
Cards now stored neatly in a special drawer.
Dying flowers are thinned till there are no more.
~
The romantic dinner’s now just a memory.
The dessert was great but sure wasn’t free.
There are two candies left no one will eat,
one’s missing a bite and the other’s no treat.
~
Her dress was stained from wine I spilled.
The rest of the night I thought I’d be killed.
We woke the next morning and she’s still peeved.
But I’m still alive, so I was relieved.
~
I tried to kiss her and she yelled “go away!”
Then she went off about ruining her day.
The whole event gave me a terrible scare.
But all’s good now cos it was just a nightmare.

~*~
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In the Dark

A brother and sister went for a walk.
They laughed out loud and had a talk.
Time flew by as they hiked the trail.
They sat for a break but their lunch was stale.
~
The shadows grew long as the sun sank low.
Which way was home, they didn’t know.
With all seeming lost there’s no place to hide.
If light’s to be seen they’ve only stars to guide.
~
Paths disappear beneath feet unseen.
Hands reach out for some space between.
The sounds of night are now loud and clear.
Eyes open wide seeing nothing but fear.
~
Imagination filled their weary heads.
The siblings now dreamt of their cozy beds.
But attention’s gone when fantasy’s there.
The pair separate and nightmares they share.
~
Shrieks and howls soon filled the wood.
The children screamed as they should.
Hours melted and death was thought.
Then a flashlight seen and home they’re brought.
~
The End

~*~
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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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Beget

The abyss I’ve seen and won’t forget.
The bottom drawn, reaper met.
I’ve dwelled in its periphery.
The journey back now history.
~
Having seen the light through the fire,
my heart’s warmed with burning desire.
Color’s now melted my blues away,
with the frigid thoughts of tomorrows gray.
~
Though damage done with scars that shape,
healing’s begun but wounds still gape.
So F-off Devil I ain’t yours yet.
The abyss you’ve shown. Now it’s love I get.

~*~
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