I sit and look at the ancient tree
some say it has a story.
knotty small trunk and twisted
limbs the same dark color.

I see small twigs, blacker still,
survived the winter's freezing.
At the tip of each fragile stick
bloomed a flower an a-ged color.

no attempt was made to catch the eye,
caring not so much for visits.
But a visit the flower did have that day
when I thought upon the blooming

they ivory white but underneath
a smoky colored brown
light yellow aged a hundred years
turned my mind around

I saw the tree shaped into
a large and handsome frame
twigs made dark keys upon the board
dogwood flowers made the same.

88 keys of flowers and twigs tied onto a string.
Spring breezes play across the limbs, a distant melody.
Soft is the willow leaf, bright is the yellow bell, but if
you close your eyes at  Spring what will the dogwood tell?

I hate my life ,I hate my wife
I hate the stupid
cat we have

I hate my house,I hate my spouse
I even hate the
cars we have

I hate to fail I hate to wail
I don't want
to live this failing way

I am a loser, not a ******
I am no druggie
I am just a old fool

I know hate is a terrible
word to let come out
of my messed up mind

I have no success
my spouse will let
you know somehow

I don't need a
mouth anymore
all I do is pray

I doubt that God
gives a care he is
silent as a rock

I hate to hate
I hate myself
for I am just a nothing

They have spent their
content of simpering,
holding their lips this
and that way, winding
the lines between
their brows. Old folks
allow their bellies to jiggle like slow
tamborines.
The hollers
rise up and spill
over any way they want.
When old folks laugh, they free the world.
They turn slowly, slyly knowing
the best and the worst
of remembering.
Saliva glistens in
the corners of their mouths,
their heads wobble
on brittle necks, but
their laps
are filled with memories.
When old folks laugh, they consider the promise
of dear painless death, and generously
forgive life for happening
to them.

It is dusky dark
Dad would say
chickens roost
crickets have songs
mountains fade
bright Venus shines
lonely dusky dark

There was an old lady
who lived in a shoe
she had so many children
she knew not what to do!

The welfare man came
and said 'OH, what a dame!
processed her claim then said
I do have a program for you!

That money talks
I will not
deny
I heard it
once it said
goodbye