As I slip into the void...
of this endless black
I promised to myself,
Shall I never- do look back
But thoughts of my past fall-downs
Keep haunting me with guilt
Reminding me of all dark times
from which my rugged life had spilt
Every time that someone died
To myself, I'd always say
How could I have lived so long
And all my friends have all passed away
I've outlived all of my siblings,
four are buried in the ground
Why, I ask myself-
am I the only sib... still around
I've thought my life to be special
Though the years have made me red
I ask myself over and over again
Why the hell am I still-not dead
Yet, I want to keep on living
You know, I'm almost ninety-five
I've slipped into this void of endless black
And somehow, thank- God... I'm still alive!
My brother and I shared a bedroom
With cowboys on every wall.
Though we’re three years apart
Our connection did start
While our baby bro slept down the hall.
My memories don’t have much info
Of the time that we spent in that room,
But since we got along
I don’t think I’d be wrong
Saying we were content (I’d assume).
When the crib for our sib got confining,
Rooms were switched; gender came into play.
I would guess that our mother
Thought brother and brother
Would both take to the cowboy display.
So I got my own room, but I wonder,
Did I miss my first roommate a bit?
Maybe yes, maybe no;
It was so long ago,
But years later, I have to admit
That a kinship formed so very early,
If you’re lucky, holds fast in the heart.
For your birthday today,
Burt, though you’re far away,
Think of cowboys, where we had our start.
Charred in solace of your embrace
reminiscences engrossed as imprint
harboured in placards of your grace
A birth, a thousand with no squint
in winter's pure pour of snow
reminiscences engrossed as imprint
Giggling with nights glow
in waxes and treelights
in winter's pure pour of snow
One who ignites in delights
grining in fire and refuge
in waxes and treelights
A festivity of tunes and rouge
that twirls in vitality
grining in fire and refuge
Presents reciprocated in sib purity
charred in solace of your embrace
that twirls in vitality
harboured in placards of your grace
syllable
one two three
tap tap tap
clap clap clap
sybil
two
tap tap
clap clap
sib
one
tap
clap
Monet's brush strokes blend to show Argenteuil and Seine.
Monet, Renoir prized evoking faded light and scene
Told to Lilla Cabot, US artist "painting means slight around you,"
Frame a blue sib, a rose oblong, a fair line, and paint it as you view.
http://www.nga.gov/content/ngaweb/Collection/art-object-pag…
Written: February 03, 2022
Our grandson (7) made a game –
He christened it “Salvation.”
Before he rattled off the rules
I asked his explanation.
“Do you know what salvation means?’
I queried; he admitted
He didn’t, so I asked his sib,
Against whom he was pitted.
“I’m only 5!” his sister said.
“I don’t know anything at all.
I haven’t even started school!”
A lot of guff for one so small.
For she knows plenty, but salvation’s
Not for kindergarten,
An age-related absence
Any IQ test would pardon.
So we explained, the game went on
And, good for sib relations,
The final score was even,
Each achieving 3 “salvations.”
When someone doesn’t quite behave
The way you would prefer,
You realize you have no control
Of him or maybe her.
No matter who it is – your kid,
Your parent, sib or friend,
Nobody acts exactly in
The way you can portend.
There isn’t much that you can do
But try to understand
Behavior that’s not yours is simply
Out of your command.
Accepting other people’s quirks
Is not an easy thing
But just think of how much happiness
Their quirk-free parts can bring.
To be lucky in life, you’re qualified
If you have someone by your side –
A spouse, a parent, sib or friend,
Just one on whom you can depend.
You don’t need trappings tied to wealth,
(Though you’re in luck to have good health)
For fancy digs or costly clothes
Do not a lucky life expose.
But if you’re fortunate enough
To know when times are really rough
Of even just a little stressed
Your agita will be addressed,
You have to thank whatever fates
Have granted you such special mates.
Just knowing someone has your back
Makes up for anything you lack.
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