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Life is as predictable as a pair of dice. At times not so nice, at others, glorious. The notorious mix of dreamy-eyed moments with dreadful surprises, not knowing how or when. We are at the mercy of the winds of vissicissitudes. Our attitudes, our presuppositions are tenuous at best. At one instant, your head will be resting on my pillow, at another, on a hospital pillow because you are dying of ovarian cancer. Uncertainty is our highway;  there are many detours ahead. Kiss when you know it is possible, hug when you know the same. Love, in any given situation, is always the antidote. Memories are but for the future, so live now, always with your heart.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
I’ve a coat with many pockets,
that’s special in its ways,
Although young when I first donned it,
still fits me well these days.
With a host of special reasons
for wearing it today,
It's  gifted to my chidren,
when I reach my final day.

It’s got pockets full of memories
and others full of dreams,
from my ninety years of living,
with more to come it seems.
there’s a pocket for the future,
into which I hope to add,
all the moments I’ll enjoy,
be they jubilant or sad.

Should I feel downhearted:
an occasion that is rare,
I’ll recall a favoured happening:
or a moment I can share
with anyone that’s listening,
that has befriended me.
With a moment that I treasure,
I deem a priceless memory.


When friends have come together,
a common human trait,
we’ll reminisce on our early years,
and how we faced ill Fate,
We talk of our successes
and times of yesterday,
as for achieving the impossible?
We’ll brag the livelong day.

But there is a pocket hidden,
it’s one embedded deep.
Within it, lie my broken dreams:,
that have hurt me rather deep.
They rest with irksome memories:
that make me sad and blue.
as do my angry thoughts,
that I'll not disclose to you.

There’s memories that are cheerful:
there’s others that are sad.
Whilst others make me wistful,
for the better times I’ve had.
When I think the world’s against me,
I’m alone and feeling bored,
I’ll rummage through my pockets,
for the memories I have stored.

In its pockets by the number,
there’s many treasured dreams.
Amongst memories I cherish,
there’s a host of madcap schemes.
Despite pockets overflowing,
and others fully filled,
there’s plenty more to fill,
before my life is stilled.

Yes, my coat of many pockets,
is a cherished one I wear.
Though somewhat worn and tattered,
about it I really care.
It may not look inviting,
when hanging on a hook,
but Memories therein stored,
invite your second look.

Rhymer. August 10th, 2020.
Justa little thought I've had as the year progresses and life gets a tad tougher due to the pandemic.

Truth Remains
Sometimes I wish myself
Without eyes
Because
Outside of my illusion
I see only chains
Pain and anger
Disease and war
Poverty and hunger
I see fear
False premises,  like words that could ****

Truth remains,
Sometimes
I wish myself without eyes
Because
My eyes have seen more than they can bear
A curse as a gift
When reality bow before me
Kneeling on raw salty ground at my feet
Begging for compassion

Truth remains
I wish myself without eyes
Because
The truth is never gentle
It shakes, disrupts, rattles, destroys
It purifies, binds together, builds-
And quite frankly , my hands are tired

I wish myself without eyes
Because
Truth remains ,
My lips are tired of pretending
Wearing a smile large enough
For my intellect to drown in
But only when other’s eyes are focused

Truth remains
I wish myself without eyes
My love is wide
My vulnerability is harsh
Have me feeling lonely
At peace,
At war,
Aching
Knowing
Needing
Wishing myself indeed
Without eyes

Because truth remains
I wonder how
Beautiful life would be,
For an illusionist to be free of sight
 Feb 2020 Amanda Shelton
Colm
Rain has not the weight of snow
In freeing me from this human coil
It whispers quick
Its children come and go
And I am left with puddles everywhere
To fade in suncast alone
Heavy on the longing
Light on the being true
When all I want is a day to do nothing at all
That or another glance of you
I hope that the rain, never stops
Wet ground yesterday
Heavy downpour late last night
Dryer this morning
I only have 5 minutes
To spare this poetry
Here it goes:

5.
I do not wish to be seen
Said the old man in me
So leave me alone
Cause I don't want to be

4.
For I've been running away
This is what I hate
And I envy everyone else
Who are not in the same fate.

3.
What have I become?
Where will I go?
The questions are left unanswered
And I've searched high and low.

2.
To be strong once more
In my world full of doubt
To be strong while I lose
In my latest bout.

1.
I wish I had more time
Just like before
I only have 5 minutes
And I wish I had more.
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