there is no getting rid of him

each day goes by and i wonder if i'm getting better or
losing myself in the hysteria

by now i thought he'd be dead, but each saving grace of his absence is met with my sorrow

and the devil always brings him back
******

a reminder that i failed

he is not mine, and i do not want him

if you are real, show me what it means to live
if you are real, take this heart and choke the blood out of it
if you are real, i ask you, to steal my breath and give it to the dying
who need it much more than i do

i am dead, i am dead
if there's anything i know, it's that i'm beyond saving

this is a plea to god,
who i know does not exist

I’ve born four children, one still dead
another taken by 11th-week aspiration,
proves I'm randy enough for most.

Salt of the earth rural and *****,
looking for time with a man
who’s skinny or capable.

I’ve impatient hips; show me
which one you claim.

How open is your window,
  how tall is your door

How wide is your pool,
  how slippery is your floor

How fresh is your perception,
  how broad is your scope

How clear is your reflection,
  how real is your hope

How solid are your friendships,
  how many pray tell

How strong is your commitment,
  how deep is your well

How right is your grammar,
  how your words become strong

How your heart achieves freedom,
—turning verse into song

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

To the man who made me who I am

Being with you was like learning without a textbook
I just watched and copied and made it my own
From gardening to maths
You made me my own genius

I didn't have to speak for you to know what was wrong
You didn't judge me for the silly things I said
Or how I never learnt at school
You taught me to teach my self

You were my Mr Miyagi
With less riddles more jokes
I learnt that laughter can flood rooms like tidal waves
And we were leaves to float in it

And now you're gone I wont mourn
You would tell me to stop crying and cut my hair
I will use laughter to put a smile on raggedy dolls
And the stories to keep the dark days down

Thank you for being the Godfather of giggles
Making Sunday dinners not the day to fear Mondays
Having gardening not be a chore but a way to think
Rest well Granddad.