I cant stand my own tears.
I cant stand my own pain.
I cant stand my hurt.
I cant stand on my feet again.
I cant say im ok.
I cant stand on my own..
I cant keep it in anymore.
I cant hold everything in without bursting into tears.
Im not strong anymore.. What happened?-mickie-

Time-Time is fragile you dont know how much you have of it.
You're past is what makes you but is also some of what you need to let go and only hold on to the happiness of the past. The future is you're hope to seek happiness, you're dreams of the future time. The present is you seconds,minutes,and hours that you have now. The present is you're most precious part of the time you have cause the seconds you have now you may run out and not have a future. So keep you're present time dearly in mind and do not waste it.-mickie rouxe-

We couldn't save John Lennon
Cars with fins, or rock and roll
Change comes with time, ah, that's a given
We can't even save our soul

TV shows we all grew up on
All the poster girls we love
They all have disappeared
That's just the thing I feared
It happened when push came to shove

I keep my eyes open when I kiss you
I just have to see you near
Yours are closed,
that's the way it goes
I don't want to see you disappear
That's why I keep my eyes wide open
This may be a dream we're in
I have to see you there beside me
I could not live this life again

Cassette tapes and all those eight tracks
In the garbage they all went
They're with the comic books,
The one's your mothers took
To have them now is heaven sent

Fatty foods and concert movies
You can't find them any more
The food has gotten thin
The movies....in the garbage bin
The good times aren't just like before

I keep my eyes open when I kiss you
I just have to see you near
Yours are closed,
that's the way it goes
I don't want to see you disappear
That's why I keep my eyes wide open
This may be a dream we're in
I have to see you there beside me
I could not live this life again

Where are the good old games of pinball
Not the pacman sort of games
You know the ones I mean
You played them as a teen
And you still know all their names

Whatever happened to the music?
The ones we loved are in the ground
Elvis, he was the King,
the great ones all could sing
There's just so few of them around

I keep my eyes open when I kiss you
I just have to see you near
Yours are closed, that's the way it goes
I don't want to see you disappear
That's why I keep my eyes wide open
This may be a dream we're in
I have to see you there beside me
I could not live this life again

Sitting all day with Dakota, my
sick old dog, cancer, comforted
by touch, my toe rubs her flanks
outside on her little rug
under redwoods, on the deck  
her favorite spot.
Fuzzy ears gather sounds,
rhythm, the day goes round.

Dawn is birdsong, dove and thrush
deer tread softly in the underbrush.

Comes the chatter of people
shouts, children at play
whine of machinery
remarkable the variety of motors
on a Saturday.

Light fades,
the return of birdsong
tap-tap, a neighbor’s wood shop
laughter echoes in the forest
scent of barbecue
summer pleasures.

Now midnight
all is hush
endless stars
Dakota remains at my feet, rubbed
by my toes as I chase away flies.

Patience, little fly.
Feel the breath from her nose?
Still alive while it blows.

The young boy walked on through the park

His mother close behind

But then he took off swiftly, though

She knew that she would find

Him standing at the Cenotaph

Saluting, ramrod straight

He did it everytime they passed

No matter what the date

He knew that is was honorable

A place to honur those

Who died defending what was right

And every time he froze.

Each time they went to ride the swings

He ran ahead to stand

He did it, and she was proud he did

Though he didn't understand

A silent sentinel...piegeon perch

Memorialized the dead

There were pigeons all around it

And two piegeons on the head

But Billy didn't mind the birds

In fact he liked to say

The piegeons are the soldier men

Who can no longer play

He always walked around all sides

Always looking for the names

Of his father and his uncle

Bill and Randy James

They were taken by an IED

Though that meant nothing to Bill

But each time that  he found their names

He then saluted and stood still

He knew that they would not return

Although gone, their names were here

He saluted them each time he came

Of the pigeons, he'd no fear

This silent, solemn cenotaph

Was a place he loved so much

Although he couldn't see his father

His name plate he could touch

He knew that his saluting

Made his mother's heart strings sing

After his silent hello to his dad

He could go play on the swing...

Old Jim

"I'm grateful for the company

....sit down and I'll make tea"

"It's not often people visit

but, with the cat, us two make three"

He's hiding somewhere here

He's always there abouts

I just have to watch the doorway

I don't want him to get out

We listen to the radio

Can't afford to have TV

It's really not a loss though

Since I now can barely see

Time it takes it toll on you

A little more each day

I wish there was a little pill out there

That helped keep time at bay"

"There's the kettle, whistling"

I'll be back with our fresh brew

The cat won't drink it with me

So I'm only making two

I looked around the little room

All the drapes were closed up tight

It was sunny out and midday

But inside, it looked like night

There was one light in the corner

More for guests than Uncle Jim

HIs life was based on order

This room just wasn't him

"Here's the brew my boy" he said

"As he came back and sat with me

I watched him...two steps forward

One left,  then forward three"

He put the cups down gently

Didn't spill a single drop

He'd memorized his pathway

He knew exactly where to stop

"I've got biscuits, if you'd like"

"Some Hob Nobs from back home"

"I break them out for company

"They're too good for me alone"

I said that I would get them

and I exited my chair

He said they're up on top

But I'd never reach them there"

He came and got a grab stick

He poked and grabbed them from the shelf

He said "This things a lifesend"

"I'd never get them by myself"

We sat and talked for hours

Talked of sports and music too

He said that with his failing eyesight

There's really not much he could do

"It's saved me money someways"

"And cost  more in others though"

"But now that I'm not driving"

"I no longer shovel snow"

Jim, worked hard for forty years

He was a foreman in the mine

He'd been working round the coal for years

In fact since he was nine

He used to run small errands

From the office to the men

He lied about his age though

Jim told them he was ten

He'd retired back five years ago

When it got hard to breathe

"It was all I ever knew boy"

"I didn't want to leave"

Tons and Tons of coal dust

Must have filtered through his lungs

He was  dying slowly daily,

It started showing on his tongue

Small spots appeared which spread real quick

He started treatment right away

He knew the doctor would relieve him

Of his job, reduce his pay

"you know boy, there's a tale they tell"

"of birds down in the mine"

"when the birds fall off the perch stone dead

"Then we men have little time"

"We have to get out quickly

"For the bird has shown our fate

"But think a bit, the gas got him...

"So for us ...it was too late"

"We didn't really watch the bird

"We listened for his song

"For when his voice was laboured"

We knew it wasn't long"

"Dead birds...they meant dead miners"

At this my body jolted

"It;s like shutting up the old barn door"

"Even though the horse has bolted"

I finished up and said to Jim

I had to catch my bus

Jim said, "ok young man, be on your way"

" Now, it's just the two of us"

"You'll be back soon, I hope" he said

I said , "I sure will try"

"I like our little visits"

As he sat there and he sighed

"Just me and Tilly now" he said

As he saw me to the door

Stay safe my boy and oh....

He said "There's one thing more

"when you get on home...please phone me"

"It will make this old heart sing"

"Just phone me up and when you do...

"Let it go for just three rings"

I said I would, "but why three rings"

I asked, not four or five

"Three rings" he said's our signal

"In the mine....that you're alive"

I left and headed homeward

But first I'd stop of at the mall

Then I went home right directly

And I then gave Old  Jim his  call.

Here I am, eating alone in our favorite cafe
and wishing you were here.
Can I help feeling so lonely?
I plan on staying miserable for as long as I am,
and no one on this Earth can stop me.
The food is very good, but I must force myself to eat.
What made you want to leave me?

Death used to frighten me, keeping me awake
at all hours of the night.
Thoughts of my own mortality would arise
in the strangest situations, at the strangest times,
disturbing my relative piece of mind
with the recognition of the impermanence of that mind itself.
I knew that someday I would not be thinking of death-
I would not be thinking at all.
I would simply be a part of the ground
or dust sitting in a vase in the room of someone I have not yet known-
dust now, dust then, what's the big difference?
Well, one of us realizes our own dustiness.

Now, death seems more like a vague invitation
with no set due date for a reply.
Perhaps I have already rsvp'd to Death's invitation
simply by being alive,
but the event seems unknown, far in the distance.
Now sometimes it seems favorable
to invite Death over myself for a more intimate evening,
but it is a hard choice to make,
and one still bringing so much dread.

Every night is Saturday,
Every Monday's Sunday.
If Tuesday is my lieu day,
Then Wednesday is my luncheon meeting.
Thursdays are long coffee breaks,
And Fridays are my Personal Days.
Saturdays are Saturdays,
And ****,
It might begin again.

When the saints...go marching in
Oh when the saints go marching in
Oh how I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

Of all the saints, I want to know
The ones who write, I'd love to meet
Oh how I'd love to meet all the authors
When the saints go down the street

E.A. Poe...even Thoreau
Hemmingway would be ok
Mailer and Andrew Taylor
I'd learn to drink like a sailor
when these saints come strolling in

The Writers Guild...I'd be fulfilled
Meeting writers long since dead
Just think of what I'm learning
All that knowledge in their heads

I'd love to know, I'd love to know
Is Bill Shakespeare who we think?
Christie, Austen and Dickens
This is where the whole plot thickens
When the saints go marching in

Is it the best, of all the books
Is the bible just a tale
Can you think of someone better
When Melville speaks about a whale

Capote sits, while Chaucer reads
Bronte knits while Stoker bleeds
Oh how I want to be in that number
When these saints go marching in

The list goes on, oh on and on
There's just so many who've passed on
It's a list that leads by example
When these saints go marching in

Oh when the saints go marching in
When the saints go marching in
How I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

I remember it as if were yesterday
VE Day...well, not exactly
but, close enough for me
The actual surrender of Italy
May 2, 1945....but the **** Americans
Always the Americans wanted May 8
So, it's May 8th, but I'll always remember the second
We were in Milan...I love Milan
****** was dead, Mussolini was dead
I was alive, and in Milan
Rumours were out that the war in Europe was almost done
Nobody had told the Gerry's that though
Word came from Lubeck that they'd surrendered
I was twenty one years old, going on 50
War ages you...and not in a good way
I was in 6th Airborne and ready to go back
When the word came down
I remember kissing the waitress at our cafe
I kissed her hard, and with as much passion as a 21 yr. old can have
I didn't want to let her go
It was over
I kissed her for myself, and everyone in Milan
I kissed her for my folks in Clapham
I kissed her for her folks, wherever they were
I kissed her because we were free, they were free
I kissed her for my Uncle, who we lost early in 1941
Lost him during the blitz in London
England lost 430 people, we lost Uncle Cyril
That was enough, I was signing up
Now, it was over and I was moving on
I kissed her for everyone still waiting for the news
But, most of all, I kissed her for Leslie Testro, Rfn (18yrs)
Lance Cpl Thomas Wray (22 yrs), Lt. Dennis Edmonds (21 yrs)
and all the others attached to 6th Airborne
Who wouldn't know it was Victory in Italy
They were lost, not forgotten, never forgotten
Forever in our minds, our roll of honour
We celebrate them annualy
Few of us left now, but, those that are
go back to Italy every two or three years
back to Milan, and we toast them all
My waitress, Rosa Testrini
She was there as well, every year
Until five years back, we lost her
Now we toast her as well
We all have our honour roll
She was on mine
I found her again in 1950
We were on our second trip back
She met my wife, and I her husband
He's still there, and we talk
My Italian is better than his English
But, we talk as well as we can
I miss her, and the others
But that day, that glorious day in May
I've never kissed like that since
And my wife knows it
Sometimes she reminds me...
I laugh, and remind her....
What that day means...if it hadn't happened
We may not be kissing now
so, she'll never get that kiss
Only Rosa
Rest In Peace my waitress