My poem is my true selfie,
An X-ray of the inner me,
A snap-shot of reality,
A close-up of what's really me,
Un-shopped pixels of beauty.
Me.

For fifteen years it served me well
through rain and wind and snow
But I decided that it was the time
and the poor thing had to go
I think of all the miles done
in its company
Fishing trips
and foreign trips
and holidays at home
But it had reached its sell by date
its usefulness expired
So I threw it in my fire pit
onto the funeral pyre

Thus I bid my old hat a last farewell

I know that some of us, well many of else have noticed the tiny hemorrhoid who has been festering around HP for a while now. He pops in, leaves his unkind marks on our skin, causing us to scratch and irritate the area. What I am wondering is how many have noticed his poems (for lack of a better term and in an attempt to be somewhat nice) trending with only 1 like?  My friends, they trend because so many people view them…not like them.  That is how it works here at times. Views vs. people following you. He has only a few following him (proof drugs are still running rampant) and it only takes a few views to cause his used toilet paper offerings to trend. This, in my opinion is his goal. He spends his time trying to discourage anyone he comes in contact with so that it will cause us to view his vomited works. (Ok, getting a little uglier). He slaps and then runs, waiting to see what we will do to feed his regurgitated ego, and we follow, accepting his bait.

My suggestion is to completely ignore this hemorrhoid, block him, no reading, no leaving ugly remarks on his work…just make him invisible to you and every one else. Let him write his little crayon projects and post them on his own fridge (because I’m sure his mom won’t even put them on hers). Will he eventually go away?   Probably not, he is so full of himself; he could not live without himself. But, we can go away…not from the site, but from him.

There are people like this everywhere…people who get joy from hurting others, people who sit there with a pen in one hand and something else in the other. (use you imagination)  Ignore this pain; don’t let it get you down. If we all do this then maybe, just maybe he will get the hint…probably not. But maybe the swelling will go down a little.

This is just my opinion and my suggestions.

If you're going to ride my ***
you could at lease pull my hair.
She was pushin' 55 when
the bumper sticker caught my eye,
she was at the controls of  
a disturbed yellow Datson
with Nova Scotia plates,
a combination of rust red and bright yellow
sliced down the middle with one wide strip of black,
heel to toe, and tinted windows to boot.

1970 Northern Canada, hundreds of kids
thumbin' from East to West and from West to East.
I shared the Impala with two young ladies  from Ontario,
and  the driver was friendly as hell, as well as being deaf...

The Datsons bumper sticker now a pleasant memory..
Today there are fewer travelers and many being unemployed ex-cons and dyed in the wool Hobos harboring severe alcohol and drug problems... you could say that it's no longer safe.

My travelling days are  over..
I left them 30 years in the dust.
I really have seen the last of those,
today when I go, it's not long before I want back..
I miss the ocean, and the Atlantic  is my choice.  
The Pacific smells of dank wood with all the tall furs
and the logging industry.  Give me my camp fire on the beach,
I'll wash the salt away before I jump in the sheets at the days end.
My skin being golden brown from a close enough Star.

If you were a mermaid                                   c. 6.8.14 J.Ray                         
I’d follow you down
I wouldn’t be afraid
If I had to drown

Into the dark sea
We swim all alone
Though we cannot see
Into the depths unknown

Through the waves
And through the sand
To Pirate’s graves
Let me hold your hand

Sharks around us got big teeth
Hold you close and calm the fear
The dangers in the underneath
But the water is just oh so clear

Your hair catches the suns final ray
I hate to go now but I’ll be with you soon
In my true heart I wish I could stay
I kiss you goodbye with light of the moon

your words poet
sing their song
In my innermost
each word completes
your welding craft
into memorable poems

Faceless Caroline square on your breast: it says your name!
Heard them call it out then say Carolyn cause they always think: them's
        the same!
YOUR FOOD'S READY! Caroline I heard them good cause I do listen a lot.
I pointed at you and filled you in you laughed got up surprised to find I
        wasn't just full of ***!
Got your food said thanks a lot and your daughter said 'Hey Kafka!' we
         agreed to love him a lot!
I listened to you speak in a foreign tongue, German it was: it was a very
         pretty German!
Yeah I read your name right from your striped breast and you looked at
         me and sparkled through your glasses I kinda liked it.....
Faceless Caroline oh what a pretty face you coulda been anything but
         then you came and ate by me!