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something can hit you
upset your life
destroy you daily routine
make you aware
of the fragility of life

and of the statistically proven fact
     rarely ackkowledged
that bad things may also happen to you
not only to others
A certain Mr. Frederick
seems unable to prevent his ****
from creeping up into his words
that end up sounding much like turds
vented on **** sites popular galore -
ON HP WE DON'T WANT HIM ANYMORE!
https://hellopoetry.com/Frederickus/
His motto: Let us celebrate in verse Intergenerational Relationships and ****!
In case you donot know what **** is: It is the acronym refeering to sado-masochistic *** practices! (just google it.. as I did, and my web browser issued a blockage which i temporarily suspended to find out what it is all about ...)
I read and commented (not positively…) on some of his rather questionable texts and also wrote a mail to Elior York suggesting he take the guy off the site. Hope he does it.
cowgirls don‘t ride sidesaddle
unless they completely skedaddle
but even then, since their birth,
they hold on with great mirth
to that wonderful horn on their saddle
Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.


She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.


Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.


A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.


Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.


Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”


The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.
This is one of the sample stories in my new book, "BitterSweet," which has become a #1 New Release on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/BitterSweet-Lior-Gavra/dp/0999497103/
the days go by in pleasant routine
only occasional disturbances
     with grandkids  unexpected visitors
     the mailman ringing at the door
          because the letter would not fit the box
     the neighbor asking for a favor gladly granted
     someone who wants to sell some things

the days go by
      preparing meals  go shopping
      splitting the firewood
      running the wash
      checking the email
      go swimming and do AquaFit
      occasionally have a lunch with friends

the days go by

and I occasionally wonder
about the undesired goal of passing all that time
as days go by
quotidian chores household sports friends routine end timepassing
over two billion people
these days are waiting to commemorate
the birth of one whom they consider
humankind‘s savior

it happened more than 2000 years ago

since then it has not really been established
from what he has saved us

looking at our history
does not help much either

maybe this is a good thing
such indeterminacy can be quite uplifting

after all
who does not like to be saved?
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