I had to finally understand
you didn't see me as beautiful anymore, that you weren't in-love with me ,
it was always in the plan,
really never in-love
but man,
  was I ever in-love with you,

Just the idea of me,
and my family,
so intriguing you say,
you love me that's true,
& sometimes even,
in a better way,
than with anyone else,
but I was just convenient,
the very next thing ,
your Muse,
just a toy,
for you to abuse,
to leave and to use,
but hey guy I choose,
to walk away,
cuz it hurts way too much for me to try and stay now,
you showed me love,
I folded my hands to pray,
& with nothing here left to say,

It seems I just cannot play,
these stupid games
it's such a crying shame,
to walk away from

E V E R Y T H I N G

**** you poet.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

His eyes are glazed with cataracts; these days he seldom speaks.
He’d choke if not for thickeners his nurse puts in his drinks.
The Amyloid has run amok, like weeds that spread and climb,
His intellect is overthrown; He’s trapped within his mind.

Alzheimer’s started subtly. He’d forget a place or name.
He’d wander through his rooms at home, uncertain why he came.
His wits became befuddled; he gave up his keys to drive.
He’d wander off without his coat; it’s a wonder he’s alive.

His world grew gradually smaller, snared in a web of fear.
Frustrated by his loss of self, he’d shed many wordless tears.
Now he is in hospice and he hasn’t got much time.
His body, too, is failing him. He’s already lost his mind.

Old memories are stirred in him, treasures he can’t speak.
He imagines himself young and strong; not old senile and weak.
His lips curl in a toothless smile and I can only pray
That in his tangled mind he’s found the door to yesterday.

Since you've
Degraded me
I now know better
How to do with out
Be good for Santa
I want presents
Which is your love

head for
the jeeps

i'm scrambling and
crawling through
bushes over the
sand dunes

head for
the jeeps

just in front of me
a potato masher
detonates and both
the jeeps explode

head for
the jeeps and
if you don't
make it try
for the half
track on the hill

but before i
reach the half
track they've got
me surrounded

and i'm alone
with the enemy

in war there
are only winners
losers
and prisoners.

Lonely, like the ancient ocean
flooding fast upon the sand

past a fading line of footprints,
ankle deep in surf she stands

casting wishes on the water
like a sprinkling of snow,

light they land but moments after,
melt into the waves, and go..