Black and sticky
Karma filled up
Wears me down
Achy swelling
Universal truth
Virtue uncultivated
State changed
Rebirthed anew
Matters energy
Never ending
Reformed anew
With karmic debt
Repayment due
Suffering, (dis)ease
Attachments galore
Cosmc disconnect
I've wasted so many words on people.
Sore thumbs, achy wrists, inkless pens, and a strained throat.
I always want to hold on.
Holding my breath, in hopes that I can freeze time.
Pause in a moment where I have everyone I need.
I hate to watch them walk away,
but no one stays forever,
and I watch them walk away every time.
And every step cuts deep, and every new loss re-opens the same wounds.
A wound that never truly heals.
Not because it can't, but because I won't let it.
Though it hurts, the pain is a lasting memory.
The picture of their face may disappear,
and I may forget the sound of their voice.
But the scar will never leave me.
It is a way for the love that was once there to never fade.
Because there must've been love there for something to cut this deep.
Prick streches into a carved shape
Longer than its usual length stick
Readily active to puncture tire
In pleasurable drill of strain
And stress till urge sting
To enkindle silent click
Of achy healthy goo
Lightly snowing in
Clucking sounds
Repeatedly shh!
Uncontrollably
What a Prick!
Prick ohh!
Prick!!!...Let loose of heavenly blessings
Jikerewin ji!
Jikerewin ji! ji! ji!
Stifled heartbeats
Jikerewin ji! ji! ji! ji!
Trumped ji! ji! ji! ji! ji!
Ranging six feet whole
Settling down to the bottom
Of the bottomless pit from afar
Fumed fuse of aid beyond its wears
Off in standstill beckoning the patience
To rise and to ride on the way back home
In fun-- a well rounded shape of itself's best
Regards no mask to shame the staged claim
At start, it is able, strong, and hailing non-stop
But now, be willing; do not beyond thy strength
See it not a task but a duty taken up by its limit.
In such a way where it's almost amusing, I get to sit here on achy feet, and a leaning flat pain like metal bars against my chest. I wasn't even allowed to exhale.
It's, like a circus attraction, unavoidable to stand here in a spotlight, and not feel the mockery from a crowd that only draws inhale in my mind. That they knew the knives I call my thoughts, the ones they flung at a spinning wheel I know as my heart, weren't random conjurations, but true sentiments in hopes of nothing but wasted time.
Why was it all wasted time? What do I learn? What do I gain but the soreness of discarded feelings, ones I've spent my whole existence pining for, to keep firing off like flares of a ship that didn't need saving but acknowledgement, and ones I needed to fortify because the universe knows there are too many cruelties that want to drown someone like me.
All for bruises, twinges, and someone to tell me I'm growing up,
because why wouldn't growing up mean more strain?
I feel there's something missing,
My thoughts are sputtering, spitting,
Whirlwinds spinning.
The debris, twisting me,
I'm getting dizzy.
My twirling personality,
Is now angry and spacey.
My inner vision blurry,
And my head is achy.
Who am I suppose to be?
All alone, Empty,
Just One, among the many.
Here, seeking GOD'S company.
I'm waiting for you to talk to me,
As I begin breathing peacefully.
Eyes closed, Sitting silently,
I imagine serenity,
As a deep blue sea,
Outstretched before me.
Thewaves roll in calmly,
Balancing my energy.
Thoughts churning slowly,
Turning the Key,
Letting me see,
My true ability,
And setting me free.
Always striving to be,
The better part of me.
Earning a higher degree,
In the Realms of Mystery.
Putting an end to the misery,
That has littered our history.
A whole new clarity,
To Spirituality.
Redesign your reality,
Redefine Humanity,
Realign our Family.
PLEASE,
STOP the Insanity.
Return to unity,
The ONE,
We were Meant to be.
I feel there's something missing,
My thoughts are sputtering, spitting,
Whirlwinds spinning.
The debris, twisting me,
I'm getting dizzy.
My twirling personality,
Is now angry and spacey.
My inner vision blurry,
And my head is achy.
Who am I suppose to be?
All alone, Empty,
Just One, among the many.
Here, seeking GOD'S company.
I'm waiting for you to talk to me,
As I begin breathing peacefully.
Eyes closed, Sitting silently,
I imagine serenity,
As a deep blue sea,
Outstretched before me.
The waves roll in calmly,
Balancing my energy.
Thoughts churning slowly,
Turning the Key,
Letting me see,
My true ability,
And setting me free.
Always striving to be,
The better part of me.
Earning a higher degree,
In the Realms of Mystery.
Putting an end to the misery,
That has littered our history.
A whole new clarity,
To Spirituality.
Redesign your reality,
Redefine Humanity,
Realign our Family.
PLEASE,
STOP the Insanity.
Return to unity,
The ONE,
We were Meant to be.
With age I’ve grown tired,
weary but not insane.
My bones are rather achy,
but my heart is too humane.
At night my vision is blurry,
with pills I kill my pain.
My hearing aid does help,
for sound to reach my brain.
But offensive words do fall,
in ear just like the rain.
It’s true I am short on temper,
but calm I do remain.
In need of care and kindness,
My soul I must retain.
My life has reached it’s twilight,
just like a passing train.
My deeds surpass my age,
There is no more to gain.
Life is just a journey,
And days on this terrain.
No one should fear death,
a pass to the next domain.
To all I bid farewell,
for soon we’ll meet again.
His idle head
went running, jogging,
racing in a convertible Porsche.
A wicker chair creaks,
images arise behind closed eyes.
Out there, beyond his sight,
people watch him sprinting away,
dogs chase and yap -
running like that
can get you fizzy-dizzy.
No, he will go shopping
for a Tesla,
or a Chevy Corvette.
Which?
Decision making
always made him dither-some
and achy.
Too much purchasing power
quite tired him out.
The sun, was by now,
falling asleep on his skin
as he rocked back and forth
counting pots of gold.
Muddled mind, achy, stuffiness, nonsense nonrhyming poetry.
10/18/2023
out on my legs
little shaky
little flaky
achy
blue jay scolding
it sees my weak ankle
it knows
mercilessly mocking
got to walk
car at the nail salon
stalk my own steps
slow way to go
been
ballet dancing
in a barrel of beer
fell out of bed
inside a dream like that
i am lame
swollen
holding up
hanging on
manfully
i stumble onward
to Brannigan's Bar.
As if in a blink
Gone are the days
Rolling in the grass
Scratches, bumps, and scrapes
As if in a blink
Memories play like a movie
I am the hero, the villain
And oh yes, comic relief
As if in a blink
Awakening to the sunrise
Back pains and achy joints
As I rub my hazy Red eyes
In a blink
I am suddenly old
And gone are the days
When time was forever
Ouch! Alright, I confess to overuse,
But easy does it, tiger. Good grief!
Must you kick me when I'm down?
When do you go numb? I beg, release...
Your grip on my achy calf muscle!
I look into the mirror wondering where the time has gone
I see only a shell of myself, It really hadn’t been that long Just tired bones and achy feet that barely shuffle around
The years have been mighty rough on the top side of the ground
But I have memories of faded years, filled with many a scheme
Don’t tell me even as broke down as I am, that I’m too old to dream
Why, I’ve had a life of dreams that I managed to bring into the fold
More adventures and pleasures and the memories are untold
One experience after another that years can never erase
And many tried to defeat me, more than I care to face
The thief of time has stolen my days, like a river erodes the land
It has worn down my hopes and torn away my plans
My body has forsaken me so, on the past I must lean
Though the snares of life block my way
Am I too old to dream?
42
Achy brain,
Cunning dismal ethic frame,
Guides help--
Infinite jam kindness
Laughs mimic
Nervous options pretend
Quakes reactions
Success timed urgency
Violent warning xanthan
Yielding zealous!
puddles in potholes
damp cool morning will burn
before monsoon busts open
achy stiff start per usual
body creaks to the bathroom
teeth brushed face splashed
hair undisheveling--attempted
throw on a cap, shorts and a tee
triple shot breve lubricates
enough for brain function
and creak-free movement
shoulders and core bask
in the pleasant glory of yesterday's golf
a quite satisfying round
so much so, I'm a little dehydrated
good to golf with son
good to help him get far away
from where he's been
(why we thank them)
good we still talk like we do
takes some time to get back home
even after the big reunion
he's still him and what's still there
will make it's way back
when he's through
worrying about everyone else
up at the ranch with the coati's
and his in-laws
is a good place to be
for a day or two
just what his soul
needs to wake up to
life is good
there's puddles in potholes
and more monsoon around the corner
soon and very soon
waterfalls will spill down canyon walls
and the river will run dry--no more
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