Alcoholic stupor headaches vision blurred
Distasteful renderings of a former life
Senseless heartbreak of minds wasted
He stood above the rest
Reason to walk this ground, this earth, this gift of God
Until the end of days envelops and darkness wins.

So why I, in pain, do I return home?
Is the bother of living worthwhile?
Cannot you see that all is misplaced?
If not for him, then why?
Myself, I am obscure, irrelevant.
Contributions to the face of man escape the scribe’s pen

Will time erase the pointlessness of days passed in dreary acquiescence?
Pain dulled by daily drink
Drunk by noon-day light
Slumbering till morning light
Pretending that day is night.

Why is existence so perverse that life cannot itself erase
stupidity of man’s footfalls
that deemed by others are acquired of gifts and glories
not deserved
And go beyond the grave
Imbued by all to be the virgin’s gift of glory everlasting?

Wronged, wronged, forever wronged!
Downed, screaming wronged!
Break my soul that I should live beyond this day, this time
Knowing misery creeping through life’s decay
of mind and spirit. Of rot and putrification.

Take kindly or not at all
In this, in that
Your mind it would collapse
But for the curtain drawn and closed
The daily play that would unfold
Is shuttered under hasp.

Jane, you are a true and beauteous moment
Of god’s own glory and nature’s bliss
Of loves’ lost and loves’ awaiting mist
Of minds beliefs and minds believing grist

You can surrender, though you would not admit
What your own mind tricked to assist
The venomous regions
Of life’s beguiling twists
That you alone have seen the coming end
Of wife and husband
No love, I can assure.

A fire in his loin
A flutter that doth spawn
A rare a beauteous morn
Awakening of dawn
A veritable display
Of nature’s way to say
Good day!

But lo!
The day draws quick
The spirits unrestrained
Return to rue the day
That turns itself to night,
And man’s abode abides
With heartfelt feelings more.
This day we have adored!

And I’m awake

I run and run before dawn breaks.

The coffee’s made

The dog is out

My body sighs “Shall we not nap?”

But on I strive to ready lunch

What’s there to eat? Have you no hunch?

I look and look, nothing I see

I fear that I may starve, poor me

For error grave, I have succumbed

And cupboards bare, I am undone!

Ah well, all cheery, smiley me I am

A grand adventure is in store

For me and several others more

Notes to take

Lives to unfold

Tales of winter to be told

Those who found the southern sun

The rest who waited till snow and sun became as one.

I know the calendar still says Spring

But just this morn it was declared

September’s date would soon appear

And so I do begin to wonder

Where did I put my scarf, my hat, my gloves from last December

That casually I tossed aside while dreaming

Of August’s heat and swimming pools

Of days where gin-and-tonics rule.

Where am I. One day you will die.
And I will be alone.
This understanding is not yours.
Perhaps you understand how limited time is
Perhaps you understand life is ebbing.

And accept it.
To accept end of life.

Every breath is petrifying.