i'm standing in the rain
and every drop that hits me
is a detail of my life
utterly random
some smack me, some miss me
and that's my life
i'm soaked in accidental events

When the hot heat burns into your soul, imagine that you  are standing in a river with cool water running over your feet

It is soothing to the touch
It is calming

Imagine a cool breeze gently blowing across your face like butterfly kisses
Your skin feels cool

Imagine the scent of pine trees in the air

You are in another place
It is magic

Now I know your perspective.
I am a true believer of you—
Maybe a useless one—an unknown adjective.
Within this life; in this new frame of time.
I learn something beyond my experience—
Yes, that is your rhyme.

A rhyme or I say a call of a contender.
That touches my thoughts with a rare comfort and tender.
Am I only feeling this?
Why I breathe fragrances of lavender?

Tougher verbiage of a different kind.
Holier than thou I felt, when I read your verses.
Your rhyme—

I forgot that I am a lyric seeker too!
Reading, speaking, and repeating your verses.
Creating melodies—
Tapping my fingers on this table
A different beat, a magical tune.
I cannot explain myself now to you.
In words a few.

An unreasonable world this is
as people seldom look beyond themselves
all out they are for self-gratification
worthy perspectives they sadly miss

over time,  their hearts are calcified
beauty and wonder they dismiss
human connectedness is dismally lost
their loneliness sets in as thick as the darkest mist

I watch them come and go
All pretend love and fake smiles
With the odd little genuine moment
As their tears flow for miles

Prison camp The Willows nursing home
As to us its affectionately known
The place for useless old sloths
Who watch a screen and sit all alone

Lunch time then regular medication
Sometimes an afternoon nap
I try not to do that myself though
I’m still to young for that crap

Then again who am I kidding
With my legs like jelly in a bowl
And a double chin hiding cobwebs
I’m as stiff as a telegraph pole

A young nurse reminds me of me
Vivacious and full of life
The only difference being of course
Is I had a husband while she has a wife

David is coming in soon
My son and my little solider
Everytime I see him these days
He looks that little bit older

Mackerel on toast for dinner
Not really my cup of tea
Jam stuffed in a large bulbous doughnut
Now that would do for me

Just having a sip of tea
The last thing I can just about do
Thinking of the pleasant thought
That you’ll be here one day to

i wrote the ache down,
filed it under temp/data/emotions_v27/
and still—
it boots at startup.

don’t ask me where it hurts.
it’s in the whitespace.
it’s in the semicolon i forgot to place
between “i’m fine”
and “but.”

you think this is poetry?
nah.
this is me
trying to make the silence less slippery.

i’ve been laughing in sans-serif
so nobody prints me in italics.

i bury metaphors like landmines
because i don't want your sympathy—
i want your uncertainty.

this isn’t an elegy.
it’s a system restore point.

and if you’re reading this,
know:
i didn’t survive it to write about it.
i wrote about it
so i wouldn’t code myself out of the scene.