I'll miss you
But most of all,
I'll miss how I was,
When I was,
With you.

Before you left,
Running away,
From the memory,
Of me,
And who you were.

May the light,
Of the morning sky,
Be tinged on,
Your eyes,
*Be filled with longing.

====(==O==== )

I saw an old soldier at the nursing home today.
He was sitting in a wheelchair, slowly making his way down the hall to play bingo.
Judging by his age and the tattoos on his arms he had been in WW2.
This was not a frail man, he still had some muscle tone in his arms.
And as he gently put his hands on the wheels, he looked up at me as I walked by.
I saw in his face, the face of a soldier determined to climb that last hill into battle.

###====(==O==== )

Children are walking in flour again,
though these grains are the symptoms
and the symptom is pain.
Resting upon donated metal table,
this child is lifeless with only a label
around his ankle for identification.
Part time doctors and full time others
walk and pace and cry and panic around the mother,
lifeless, with a document for identification.

This is malaria.
This is infant death.
This is an epidemic of hysteria.

Nearly home.

The bed
And the slippers grow ever closer.

A memory of things that give comfort seem palatial,
Euphoric in the mind's eye,
Though I do seem to ponder of its romanticized reality

Memories always seem so warm.

In reality,
The things that hold others close are affirming.
Love,
Shared events
Symbiotic empathy,
But given the current state...


The boring,
The mundane,
The trivial and the tedious that makes the most of a lifetime
Are omitted from the mind.

But why not have a memory full of nothing but the nothingness of life?
The train rides?
Waiting for the toaster to splay its insides
So I can feast on its wonderful toasty goodness?
Talking to the tenant who does not understand
That a bouncing leg
And constant time updates are signposts to *******?

Empty the files of my brain
And fill it with the moments of nothing.
These moments and these alone
Are your true self.
if you are a good person
Is not determined by
How many charities earn your pay
Or how many items stored,
What you are is chosen by the lonely,
The solitary,
The Tigress.

Only when you accept that person,
You are happy
And free.


But don't hold your breath.