The Muse continues to punish me
whenever I write prose
Her slaps severe with pain heartfelt
no fury 'hell hath known'
She sentences me to endless nights
and days when words won't come
Until I succumb to writing verse
and she — my breath becomes
(Fairmount Park: October, 2016)
Categories:
fairmount, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
As we get older, we think more about our death
And how many days on this Earth we have to give.
We tend to think about how much time we have left,
All the while, thinking about the life we’ve lived.
We start to analyze the bad things from our past
And count the days until our life come to an end.
But don’t dwell on which day ahead will be your last.
There’s plenty of time left for you to make amends.
But we can’t do anything about days gone by.
Regrets are there and we all have our fair amount.
Don’t live out your days wondering why.
“Instead of counting the days, make each day count.”
Remember your life for the good things there have been
And for the wonderful family you have raised.
Keep close the memories of those who’ve become friends
And remember that you are always loved and praised.
*“Instead of counting the days, make the days count.”
*Quote by ?????? from tv commercial for Fairmount Assisted Living, Tucson, AZ
Categories:
fairmount, writing,
Form: Rhyme
The sun is down
and you’re standing on the platform all alone
with night
that friend who never questions…
But dawn is looming
with its predictable answer
never asking what went on before
as you stand there and wonder…
Does all confusion surrender to the darkness
or is there but one confusion
wherein your mind is set free
to rush through the empty spaces and moments…
Looking beyond what your eyes betray
you sit down at the back of the platform
and open your journal
while closing your eyes…
New words to be told
no time to be old
one truth to behold
—and write
(Fairmount Park: December, 2015)
Categories:
fairmount, night,
Form: Free verse