He wore a wife beater.
Which hung on him more like a to do list-
Than his clothing choice for the day.
His choice of beverage of the night was Coors Light.
Twenty four of them.
Although it would be hard to argue that something else would have been in his hand
Had it too been on sale at 2 for $20.
His math skills were heightened on Fridays.
On the weekend he was somewhat of a savant.
Dividing dollars by can volume to determine.
His most frugal choice.
As he moseyed to his car,
Hips struggling to hold his
Tattered sweatpants,
One wondered whether it too ran on alcohol.

She didn't see the life left to be had,
All she saw was Darling Dear dark and sad.
She held so tightly Darling Dear, four years old
Little did she know, Darling Dear had grown up dark and cold.
Mama didn't know the strength in Darling Dear,
Befriended by the shadows, she had no remaining fears.
She loved Mama and Mama loved her back,
But nothing was as beautiful as Darling Dear gone black.
--Emily Rutledge

Profound, that he lost his sight.
He couldn't get the harmonies to blend quite right,
So he gave up seeing,
For music was the life and the fiber in his being.
He didn't need another soul
To change his note from half to whole,
For he had something else to hold,
And music couldn't make his spirit old.
So, he wed the chord, he played the piece,
And he dubbed musicality the worst disease.
Funny that a musical obsession
Would correspond with loneliness at life's discretion.
--Emily Rutledge

overwhelming.
brightness flooding over angled nose and curved jaw.
trickling over pores and hairs
to nest within a well that reject and tightly closes.
refusing. relenting. relinquishing.
eyes fluttering open.
lashes sweeping away relaxation
away dreams and wishes.
forcing thoughts to lingering lists of facts and figures.
as reality's pavement likeness persists.
responsibility, risk and resolution resolve.
until the head rests again.

echoing images pass through aged eyelids.
through deadened nerve and grey matter.
leaving themselves in limbo.
hanging in air.
floating.
captured only in fleeting stills on pages.
unrecognizable.
clouded in murky after thought.
"Remind me again of who that was," it begins.
"Do I know them," it continues.
and with confused silence it ends.

Is it worse to continue to remind someone of what once was
than to just let me go?

Life: The Pages Between Birth and Death
The book too thick to actually choose to read.
Cross-referenced with words too lengthy to even sound out.
Adjectives and adverbs, metaphors and similes
Neatly describing each seminal moment
That no longer makes sense.
A book dust covered and yellowed.
Pages dog-eared citing someone's past interest
In whatever was actually printed however many years ago.
Saying "Not the read I want,"
As I place it back on the shelf.
Avoiding the unavoidable,
I pass on it.
At least for today.

The old lady talks into air,
Of friends and family.
She asks poignant questions,
Or so it seems.
Her wrinkled brow furrowed
And eyebrows raised,
Tell just as much of her age as her intent.
Her words wander with lost syntax.
They ring with waves of sound,
Trying to find an ear to fill.
Still she sits.
Wondering why everyone stares,
But no one listens.

BROKEN is not a term of endearment
Rather it is used to deter
Don't buy that it's BROKEN
Something's wrong with her she's BROKEN

BROKEN is a term for things and not people
It conveys a need to be fixed
Our scars and bruises have made is whole
We aren't BROKEN, but reborn through every pain, every loss, and every trial.

We have learned through our BROKENess that others struggle too and maybe we can see that if everyone is BROKEN
Perhaps the word BROKEN can mean something new.

Maybe EDUCATED, WISE, STEADFAST, and LEARNED.
Could it be STRONGER or FIERCE are the words that we've earned.
Whatever your word live it out in embrace.
Leave that BROKEN word lonely far away with no trace.

Peace is acceptance and understanding of ones place in the world
Which is why it's so rare
We can't see to the end of our own noses
So how can we think we can care?

Hope is a broken promise that naïveté allows to breathe
How can we hope when it's just hard to believe?
When you can't see the bottom
What could you plan to retrieve?

Trust is the brother of honesty but no one treats them as such
They invite Trust to tell secrets but shun his brother instead
So Trust listens to the rumors
But the brother won't bother as the bitterness spreads.

If peace, hope, and trust lose their way in our lives
Can we ever believe that we would recognize
Those who need help or those to be encouraged
Those needing a word or to be showed how to endure it

See life without these is less of a life that we live
But it's a life that we survive with more take than of give.
Remember the problems you face and know that others do to
When you keep that in mind we walk a mile in their shoes.

"You're too young," they said
"That and you're too fat,
You can't accomplish your dreams you need to be in shape to do that.
You need to be able to run and take flight."
I've answered all of these questions  with out discord or fight.

I proved myself with action not by pounds on the scale
I faced their doubts head on, every concern every wail.
See doubts to me are gasoline
They fuel the fire of my soul
I don't need your support because there's no way I will fold

See I've faced doubts all my life
Proved everyone of them wrong
So what's a few more pieces of kindling and wood to pile on
The fire inside me the blaze it burns red
Consuming my opponents I will fill them with a dread
So if you're one of my doubters stand  and just ask
"Who do you think you are?" And I'll take you to task.

Death comes for us all the preacher has said

But the teachers keep teaching

Still trying to fill heads

They say knowledge is power

but when the hour draws near

they look away and put the books away

And hold the ones they held dear



But, Death comes for us all the preacher did say

We all loved someone at one time

and minded the tears of yesterday

See to love and lost is better

The loathsome chatter is spewed

blissful ignorance is what i insist

As I bid my love adieu



Still death comes for us all I understand with regret

see love is never perfect

Hearts muddied and palms wet

Emotions haunt the ones

that see love flaunted some

times they change and sear

The mindful watch as it spins the clock

As the hour itself draw near

Eyes are the windows to the soul
Is that why they are called blinds?
To blind the world of our messes
Our distresses as we distrust.
To hide from judgement, expectations
From speculating agencies
To close separating realities
What's yours stays yours and what's mine has been buried in the basement
No x will mark that treasure

Straight from the horses mouth
Doesn't it imply more than bit or bridal?
A brides tale of how it was meant to be
Her dreams of borrowed blue and new
Blue skies cloud minds and fog memories
Of what she once knew of who she once held
Who was always him forever
Where he went was inconsequential
Gone, so she pushes back the memories Burying them deep
No x will mark that treasure

The early bird gets the worm
But isn't still too late for the worm?
Too late for a change of plans
To change the exchanges we've shared
To shift how we will be remembered
With fluttering morning wings
Mourning the loss of loved ones
Tears shed falling lightly in the grass
Seeping into earth and resting on wooden surface six feet below
No x will mark that treasure

It was quiet strength that did you in.
Your belief that pain was simply the cost of life,
You had been crippled for so long
Leg straight and fused,
Tremors assaulting your once strong hands,
Still you coped.
You pushed through.
As if to laugh at the hand you had been dealt.
Like you were betting the house would go bust.
You fought.

You fought getting out of the your truck at the doctors office
You fought when they forced you into a sleep study
You fought when they ran a chest X-ray to rule out pneumonia
And when they said cancer
You fought

Who cares that they said Stage 4.
Cancer didn't know who it had picked its newest fight with
It didn't know your 25th wedding anniversary was two weeks away
So you fought
Because it wouldn't take this from you
You wouldn't let it,
Stubborn ******* you were.
You fought

You fought
Having purchased a card for the special day
Having it delivered by a friend
In tears she read and she knew
You had fought
And on that following day we sang you to Heaven
There was Power in the Blood
As you found Amazing Grace
And as your last breath escaped
Tooth then Lip.
I was reminded
You fought.