Category Archives: Life

Mimeographed

EllenEye#2
I am a copy of myself
Just offer me a cigarette
And though you know I do not smoke
I dare to say I will not choke.

Now this is very odd indeed
I run and run and run with speed
This makes me feel that I am free
For trouble seems to follow me
No matter where or when, you please
I usually begin to bleed.

Make no mistake (perhaps just one)
Mistakes are rarely very fun
Avoid temptation to reply
I say this, but I don’t know why
So if you are inclined to write
I hope to find that you’re polite!


It’s 9° with a Slight Chance of Snow

sandlakeambulance.org

oil painting from the Sand Lake Ambulance collection – for sale

Cold settles cruelly in your head
It chases you quickly into bed
You cover every part you can
Yet still it clings, so unwelcome.

Open the cupboards
And there it is
Hiding in corners
And dishes and things.
Take off your gloves
And it appears
Slip them back on, and whoosh! Disappears!
Open your coat, it rushes back in
Wrap on a scarf, add on a hat,
And so you presume that is that!
It’s crushed for a moment,
Put in its place
But then it strikes back
It lashes your face.

Oh, cold, how I wish you would go, you must know
I shiver to think of all the snow
That lingers behind as you exit the scene
It stays for a week, sometimes longer it seems.

‘Tis very annoying to shovel so much
I’d rather be drinking from a tea-cup
And savoring winter on the inside
Watching through windows, people slip and slide
While laying about, safe and secure
Dreaming of summer spent at the shore.


Ah! Snow!

www.sandlakeambulance.org

oil painting from the Sand Lake Ambulance collection-for sale

Ah! Snow!
Those tearful winds do blow and blow
Blow round and round
Above the ground
And only they know where they’re bound.

Oh! What wonders are!
No snow did settle on my car
But seem it did to parry first
Then hurry with determined bursts
And blow and blow determinedly
Into my neighbor’s yard, you see!

‘Tis sorry I be for his grief
To shovel snow, so many feet
But next time I shall not escape
From winter’s rage and stormy fate.
Yet pleased I am that for today
I may remain in bed and safe!


Oh, That I Was Shakespearean

In France they liked me yesterday
Today it was the USA
Tomorrow who knows where they’ll be

Oil painting part of Sand Lake Ambulance collection for sale

Oil painting part of Sand Lake Ambulance collection for sale

As long as they do follow me.
I know it’s been some time since posting
But that should not indict my hosting
Just say hello, I’ll say adieu
Should you so like me, I shall too
Though rhymes be silly, fractious things
I hope they put a smile on wings
That take you soaring, flying high
For miles and miles up in the sky.
Oh, that I was Shakespearean
Your heart would open up and sing!


Subway Love

subway-love


In darkness

Ghosts
Choking as the phantoms grasp-
It never ends.

The memories
Damn the memories.
Heart sickens at the time past, the future narrowing.

Enemy and friend.
Mind blanks and then retrieves convoluted queries
All answers unavailable.

He was the most handsome.
Not I, but you said this.
I, who watched his growth
His muscles swell into a well seasoned athlete
Honed by meticulous care.
Yes, I did this.
With only memories left to console.
This I have done to myself.


post peace train, #2

I’m going slowly, slowly on the peace train, peace train, ride in
The stations are filled at Grand Central, Grand Central station, New York City
But we won’t forget
When we hop that train peace train
The pain and the terror that does prevail
The longing the fear, the sadness, the tears
the endless hours, the days of fears.

I’m here waiting, waiting the peace train, New York station.

I’d rather sleep in, but I do not dare, for here it comes, the peace train.

You all forget that Carter was hot
A man of superior intellect
Who honored our values and sought to return
To democracy the way it deserved.

But now I’m afraid, afraid that the peace train, the peace train will never arrive.
We’ve used all our luck and a little beside, the peace train sent adrift to collide

I’m down on my knees, ready to concede, we’ve lost the greatest peace to succeed
The one where we realize that truth and thought can be attuned
To a new life, just and viable too…
Where we never fear our next meal
Or the cold of winter or the searing heat.

I’ve been thinking, thinking it’s a long battle, long battle, long battle
Never resolved in my years on earth, too long, it’ll outlast us.
So I look around and think to me, whatever can make us free,
It’s the love of life, family and friends, our neighbors, pets and in the end
Relinquishing thoughts that only “us” are right, correct and only just to fight…
That our neighbors have valid ways to live
Even though not like us
And our children play…
Our earth may survive our trip to hell.
On the peace train, the peace train.

I’m looking forward to a peace train, worldwide, a peace train.

Addendum:

Runningwithellen, long napping, sends his best!


go quietly in the night

come join me
come join my tears
come see the world as it is.

come join me
come see despair in every corner of the world.
cry no more, for you are yet to join,
tears are ours,
tears are everywhere.

Come see pain first hand
technology will not prevent the torture at our hands.
We are inconsolable
We are replete with regret
as we dip into hell, past heaven’s gate.

Lord save me, though I do not believe.
But once, just once, prove you know the total despair
Wreaked on this earth from those who dare
to use your name to justify the horror
wrought
the suffering of generations to come.

Once I thought that being childless was sad, but now I know this is not so
That I did not endanger another
Nor contribute to the misery we are inclined to.
Look at me, my years unfolded
Long life I wished, one time I thought
Now I know, somewhere, not far, lies answers
To end now is the only answer
To stay a manifestation of a lie.


Sunny and Chérie

(hummed to the tune of ‘I got you Babe’)

They say that work won’t pay the rent
Your paycheck’s gone before it’s ever spent…
But you don’t care, although it’s true
‘Cause hustlin’s become a way of life for you…
Babe…
(da, da, da, da, da, da…)
It’s so true…
(da, da, da, da, da, da…)
This is you Babe…

Ten years ago you had a job
A wife and kids
A house and a big back yard..
Your life was hot, on easy street
Now you’re in the gutter, begging for somethin’ to eat…
Babe…
(da, da, da, da, da, da…)
It’s so true Babe…
(da, da, da, da, da, da…)
This is you Babe…

Down on your luck, clothes tattered and torn
The people pass by, leaving you ignored…
Cast adrift, your life flashes by
When friends were gay and family stood by your side…
Babe…
(da, da, da, da, da, da…)
It’s so true Babe…
(da, da, da, da, da, da…)
This is you Babe…
(da, da, da, da, da, da…)


Okay, It ‘s Alright…(Nevertheless, although found widely, alright remains nonstandard…)

(hummed to the tune of the BBC show ‘New Tricks’)

It’s okay
No big deal
The rich are richer and the poor can’t deal
It’s alright
It’s okay
The end is coming this way.

It’s for sure
Some shall say
That equal rights is the only way.
It’s alright, it’s okay
The poor are poorer each day.

The sun don’t shine six feet down
The living might as well go under ground
The middle class have lost their heads
The sand is lookin’ good instead.

It’s alright, it’s okay
You muddle by each and every day.
It’s alright, it’s okay
Death is just a step away.


Watch out 2

(hummed to some song, the title of which I can’t remember…)

Watch out
Here they come
I say watch out
They’re on the run
And if you watch out
You’re sure to see
That Obama and Romney
Are phony as can be.

Ten times ten is no big deal
But when your paycheck’s gone
There’s no more meals.
You’ll starve to death if you listen to one
So if you get my drift, you’ll start to run.

You better watch out
They’re on their way
So just watch out
I’m goin’ to say
That if you don’t watch out
We just might become
Another third world country that’s on the run.


Watch out…

(hummed to the “Streets of Laredo”)

I spied a young cowboy
Astride a painted pony
Cowboy’s hat was a flopping
Pony’s tail was in knots
Now this little horsy
He tried best he could–
But the cowboy kept riding
Till the pony was no good.

He crawled and he cried
His life was a shambles
No pony to ride
No money, no pride
His shirt was in tatters
Not that it all matters
But his life was gone–
Gone now for good.

This lesson you’ll learn
That ridin’s a privilege
That horsy just died
Right where it stood
That man goin’ nowhere
His pony six feet under
Take care of your workers
Fore’ you’re head’s off for good.


It’s party time!

Eleven p.m.
I’m sure you must know
I’m never this late
I’m usually asleep–
I live in the woods
With nary a peep
From fish or from fowl
Though they usually don’t howl
Like the coyotes do
Or the resident screech owls
That lurk very near
Yet rarely appear.

So I’ll turn off the lights
And tumble to bed
I’ll say my good nights
And sleep pretty tight
Till the mice start to party
At 4 in the dark
And I pull up the covers
And wait for daylight!


Food!

oops whoops
oh boy
whoa
not so
oy vey
I swear
I might have had a fright
oh my
I looked around until I found
a pair of Starlings flying low
and other birds aloft, you know
that birds in flight
can tell a lot
of things to come
and things undone
of dreams inside your pretty head
and silly words to stop you dead
of vegetables that rot in hell
and others that divinely make
your day a wondrous place to dwell
and fill your tummy till it swells.
And then there’s dips and chips and such
that fill you up, and up, and up
with calories and fat and more
that in the end will make you swear
to reassess your food affairs!


2 Sleep

Sleep 1
It’s very strange
That once or twice
I come upon a thing that’s right
For most of it is very wrong
And takes you on a path that’s long
And far away from everything.
It brings you grief and nasty things.
But when you find a thing that’s right
It makes you sleep quite well at night.

Sleep 2
I sleep and sleep and sleep at night
And wake when it is very bright
Perhaps at 10, 11, or noon
Even 1 is none too soon.

I need my beauty rest, of course
There’s nothing worse than having lost
That beauteous glowing, silky skin
That ageless patina that’s akin
To Venus of De Milo fame
Or David, Michelangelo’s creation.
So let me rest till I decide
To rise and take myself outside!


Rue my heart

Upon my constitution, around the house I strode
And saw with much disturbance, the stone ’twas cracked, and more.
I followed it for long it was,
No rest was to be shown
How came this crack unto my home
and why so very long?
Are there not better things to do
than break my house of stone?
No answer came my way
And none did I expect
For rue my heart the crack did show
To break my own sweet breast.


…to Silver, Obama, Romney and all…

It’s a dog eat dog world
If you know what I mean
It’s Martini and Rossi
It’s a drunk’s perfect dream
There’s a bone in the cupboard
And more in the store
But you’ll pay through the nose
And eat off the floor.

So here’s to the jobless
And the minimum wage
To Obama and Romney
And the millions they make
For themselves and their cronies
For the widening gap
‘Tween the poor and the rich
And no middle class.

Just one more thing –
Here’s to Silver and his crew
In New York they had thought
A raise was their due.
But they screwed themselves royally
And this I don’t mind
For its been several years
Since I’ve seen a dime.

I’ve been without work,
Just one of a crowd.
Don’t mind me saying
I’m not really proud.
But I can’t rightly say what a restaurant looks like
Haven’t been to the barber,
Cut my own hair, that’s right.
And the doctor, well hell
Who knows the last time
Had my temperature taken
Or felt really fine?
And my house,
Well it’s standing
But when winter comes
The thermostat won’t reach past 51.
That’s Fahrenheit friends,
Not Celsius, no
So I’m glad those old sweaters I didn’t let go.

So here’s to Silver, Obama, Romney and all
The politicians who knock at my door
Wanting my vote
For what, I should ask.
They’ll do what they want
And we’ll fall through the cracks.


Missing a Life

To say “miss” is to imply there once was, but I assure you there was not.
Growing up in a morass of mediocrity, accomplishments were relegated to others, and ours was a life marked by others’ needs, a turning of the lamp before dawn, a turning off at night. What happened between was of no consequence.
Nor did it provide satisfaction or mere contentment.
It was but a passing of time till sleep. Sleep, less and less each day, and time grows burdensome.
Fragments of contentment appear and disappear, so subtle that their remembrance lasts not long, insufficient to be recorded.
Which yesterday revealed a moment with the possibility of renewal, satisfaction, meaning, continuity? If there was, it is lost, intangible.


from within

Knocking from the inside.
I have never noticed this
Nor known I was closed.
You could not see
Nor hear me.
Only I hear, the ramblings, deranged.
Laughter and sorrow, wound together
within.


Sorrow

Insidious is this sorrow
So many tears to shed
Though laughter fills the air instead
And yet
This sorrow weighs against my chest
And yet
To live a life filled with regret
That tears can never stop the tide
Of sorrow walking by my side.


Woke Up…

Here I lay thinking

And you say I should

It’s 9:52

So misunderstood

But not by you

It’s myself out of touch.

Behind pillar and post the nightmares collect

Dream on you say

But soon I regret

The stomping, the yelling

The howls in the night

If I don’t wake up soon

I’ll have such a fright.

Well, life is just that

To hell and then back

Yet the sun also rises in spite of this fact.

 


Oh my, sigh…

Brought to tears

my heart does cheer

and thoughts of how you  appear

to mellow my response

in ways I may enhance

a quality of life

so often rife

with war and woe

though this I think you  know

my feelings are sincere

I must reply

I am not tied

by land or sea or sky

and will admit

with fitting wit

I’d rather live than die.


Last Night

#1

Oops!
Oh my
There it goes
My nose has dropped onto my toes
My toes are running everywhere
I guess that means they must be scared
And so I’ll turn the light out now
And dream some more
Till morning shows.

#2

Hello
Bonjour
I’ll say some more
It’s very likely I can’t stop.
Not now, I’m told
I’m on a roll
And wouldn’t coffee hit the spot?
I’ll drink a pot or two real quick
And then I’ll take a nap, I think
I’ll dream of meadows green and gold
And mice cavorting round the Maypole,
All breeds of dogs charging hither,
I wouldn’t mind going with them.
It’s very plain to me, you see
That dreams are my reality.

#3

Boom boom!
Crash crash!
Down I go
I’m falling fast
Into a hole
Long and narrow
Dark and cold
And very nasty
I tell you so
That you should watch your every step
And so avoid a similar death.

#4

Whoa!
What’s the meaning of this all?
So depressing, that’s for sure.
This meaningless banter in my brain,
I might as well be on a train
Rambling through the countryside
With all the dogs running wild,
With cats and mice chasing round
And ants crawling upside down,
Spiders spinning webs of gold,
I’d be a millionaire, I’m told.
Butterflies riding high
On wings of birds that fly and fly
From tree to tree and mountain top
And then they stop
To watch the sunset from the heights.
It’s quite serene this view below
Of God’s green earth
And nature’s show.


End of life

What happens when you lose all reasons for living, when existence seems meaningless?
Why does this happen?
Is it simply the result of a set of circumstances, or is it inherent in the person, something that was always there and only needed a trigger to be set free?
And when you begin to go over the things you want to put in order so that your death will not put others in distress over the things you may have left unattended?
And when you solidly believe that even though you maintain the ability to laugh and enjoy certain aspects of this world, that your existence is worthless and noncontributory to the betterment of the community, in such a way that you feel there will be no loss, but surely a gain for others, as you leave space and resources for others to make better use of?
And even when you formulate these feelings, a part of you remembers something you truly wanted to do, and already you want to postpone your end in order to accomplish this one thing.
The result, though, is no less sad, for the depression remains, and joy is only fragmentary.
Ending seems so more fulfilling than constant mediocrity.


A thousand cuts

Death by a thousand cuts.
A sweet and gentle wish that you would soon reply
to worried inquiries about your health and happiness.
No one would write as you have done without a fearsome demon lapping at mind, souls’ edge.
Take care, and know that someone waits to wrest those demons, ease a heart constrained by hands unseen, by misconceptions of a life’s reward, of waiting for release from things you were always free from
And so you know I wish to hear your plaintive tones against the winds of nature spread so softly that I would even tread to heaven to release you.


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