I wish my mind would tell my heart
not to memorize you.
I've been in quite a few bar fights
But that was many years ago
Now that I'm pushing sixty six
Those are feelings I try not to show
But this wasn't a free fall swing fest
Between two drunks late at night
This was me protecting my poodle
From a Pit bull spoiling for a fight!
That Pit bull ran across our yard
And bit Pixie who I couldn't hold
Kicked in the belly, it let go
I then jumped on that dog and rolled
That's one fight I'm sure I'll not forget
With the teeth, flying rocks, dirt and sticks
I was feeling Adrenalin twenty
Since it wore off, more like ninety six!
I ended up gripping it from behind
Holding it closer than I do my wife
Realizing it couldn't move, it relaxed,
So I was able to spare its life!
Over all it could have been worse
The owner came and got his cute pet
I got by with a few cuts and scrapes
And Pixie got fixed up at the vet!
I learned something new that day
Fighting dogs is harder than men
My advice, don't jump on a pit bull
But for family, I'd do it again!
February should be cold,
Not sixty-five degrees.
I sweated in my jacket when
In past years I would freeze.
I shouldn’t be complaining
For the temperatures will drop,
But all this fluctuation’s crazy –
Will it ever stop?
Last week I dressed in layers;
Today just one sufficed.
In two days’ time the puddles
And the roads will all be iced.
I miss the times when calendars
Could pretty much predict
The weather, which would match the clothes
The night before I’d picked.
The summer of nineteen hundred and sixty five
when youth was fresh and newly alive
fighting the political establishment
embracing and freely loving where we went.
Who were we back then
searching to make and mark our lives
discovering who we were and where we'd been
and loving everyone as friends contrived.
What were we thinking at eighteen
well in sight and on the scene
of making change to history
and the futures of our self created destiny?
We thought we knew it all with our goals
the drugs, the sex, the rock and roll,
with change teetering on the distant horizon
with God dead and free to soar without religion.
Life moved so quick almost uncontrolled
and we no longer did as we were told,
the change was coming down the road
and sadly now we know -
nothing was to ever be the same again.
Graying at the temples,
Sore feet at night,
Doctor threatens bifocals,
You want to take flight.
You have reached the magic age of sixty-five!
Climbing stairs in lightning speed,
Has become an historical deed,
Close-up pictures are not taken,
For they show more bacon.
You have reached the magic age of sixty-five!
Your pace is a little slower,
As you ask your spouse to push the lawn mower,
Loud music and spicy foods,
Have been replaced with quiet and solitude.
You have reached the magic age of sixty-five!
Denial Contest
Three-hundred and sixty-five days
Twenty-four hours spent
Could the days left be better used
Each designed with intent
This time in life with health going
What could be done each day?
Restore peace, life, and well-being
To the world come what may
Some thoughts inspired by the movie "The Good Lie"
Today my dad turned sixty-five.
He's very ill but he's still alive.
He was diagnosed with leukemia in 2011.
He was born on this day back in 1947.
Even though he's sick, he's holding his own.
He has the comfort of knowing that he's not alone.
He has to have chemotherapy to survive.
On this day my dad turned sixty-five.
(Dedicated to Charles Johnson, my Dad.)
It has been almost one year,
Three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days. And yet, it's only been three-hundred-and-fifty. But I already love you in so many ways.
Three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days is a long, long time together. Are you scared, my love, like I? Read me more poems about the weather.
Three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days to show you each and every day how much I care. I keep trying so hard - trust me, trust me. But sometimes it seems like you don't play fair.
Three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days to beg you to fall in love with me too. Hundreds of days ago, you once said, "No." But now, I have you ask you...
Do you really love me?
What a year,
seems like yesterday,
March 29, 1965,
is a day not
to forget.
My wife Diana
and I had went
out to eat that night,
awaken to a fire.
It was across
the alley from us
flames 100 feet high
fire trucks, oh so many.
We went back to
bed, but not for
long I'm afraid.
She went into labor
oh so much yelling
she did that night.
Diana's parents
lived downstairs
they rushed us
to the hospital.
As we drove up
I looked up, and
said this is
wrong hospital.
So he drove few
more blocks,
we made it in time.
Place her in wheel chair,
and into E.R.
I waited and paced,
the floor, so many
smokes I had.
Sometime later,
in early A.M. doctor came and
told me it was a girl.
Her dad said we
should call her
Christine, since
we could thank
Christ for getting
there safe.
So her name became
Christine Lynn Foulk,
and I was so proud,
to be a father
for first time.
Today March 29, 2007
Christine you are 42
but will always
remember that
special day,
so many years ago,
Happy Birthday Daughter.
wrote 3-25-07
He sits alone in the room with silence, rocking in his chair he loves so much, looking at a picture teary eyed and tense, one in his hands from the hutch. Then the silence broke"why did you leave me"? we were together for sixty-five years, with our hearts,love and trust always to be, holding our wedding picture as he wiped his tears. I whispered"never have I left-I`ve always been here", I love you forever with all my sole and heart, I`ve loved you for sixty-five years.
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