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Phil Lindsey May 2015
Rumor is you break a mirror
Get seven years bad luck,
Well, I ain’t much on rumors,
It’s on the truth I’m stuck.

I looked into the mirror today
What I saw filled me with dread
Some old guy with his hair all gray
Looked like he should be dead.

Age spots covered up his face
There were wrinkles ‘round his eyes
I thought it was a **** disgrace
Or a Halloween disguise.

His cheeks were rough with three days growth
A spot of drool was on his chin
I was pretty shocked, I guess, but not too loath
To look again.

This time I looked inside of me
To the things the mirror won’t show.
To a mind still clear with memories
And a heart where love still grows.

My soul needs some forgivin’
Hell, I’ve lived o’er eighty years
Mistakes made just from livin’
Most washed clean with tears.

I’m thinking that my mirror lied
Maybe it’s already broke,
And the reflection of my outside
Is just a ghastly joke.

Because the inside me is still a boy
Having fun most every day
Living life that’s always filled with joy,
I’m gonna throw that mirror away.
PwL  5/18/15
Phil Lindsey May 2015
One foggy morning I went walking
Down the pathway to the sea
Cool and dreary
Very eery,
Something, Someone followed me.
I hurried forward never turning
Was I afraid my past I’d see?
I stopped and looked and she was there -
The Woman with the windblown hair.

Standing still, just like a statue
Windblown hair was all that moved
Cool and wary
Very scary
Truth, or something she must prove?
She turned around and bid me follow
To a clearing in a hollow
Soon I knew why I was there,
The Woman with the windblown hair.

Long years ago; forgotten summer
I met a woman with long hair
Very ****
Apoplexy
Caused me stand quite still and stare
To my surprise she then approached me
I stared, but she did not reproach me
Her beauty was without compare -
The Woman with the windblown hair.

She took my hand and bid me follow
To a clearing in a hollow, on that steamy summer day
Sun resplendent
Very pleasant
The grassy spot where we did lay
I loved her then, and tried to hold her,
The evening and her voice got colder
“We’ve had this afternoon to share,”
The Woman with the windblown hair.

“But I’ve a husband; he’ll soon be home.
You’re young, with life in front of you
I was only
Very lonely
I’ll ask forgiveness when it’s due”
She left me, with a final kiss,
“Respect me; Never speak of this."
She left, and left me standing there
The Woman with the windblown hair.

As I recalled those ancient memories
She turned and stared with eyes that burned
Both eyes teary
Very weary
“My husband never did return”
Suddenly the wind was shifting
The sun came out, the fog was lifting,
The Woman with the windblown hair
Was no longer standing there.

I stood alone for what seemed hours
What had happened? How was I supposed to feel?
Ghostly meeting
Very fleeting
Yet it seemed to me quite real.
I felt that I’d been taken there, and
The Woman with the windblown hair
Had spared a young boy’s future life
The boy who loved another’s wife.
PwL  5/16/15
#Ghosts
Phil Lindsey May 2015
Poetry: A lot like wine.
Can’t drink too much,
Nor all the time,
Each wine unique -
A different taste
Sip.      It.      Slowly ……
Don’t drink in haste
Try one with a fruity flavor,  
Or maybe it’s a dry you savor,
Sample all the current trends,
Don’t be afraid to share with friends.
So all us wannabe sommeliers
Can compare it to the Bordelaise!
Don’t be content - Experiment.
Try something new!
Tasting should be fun to do!
And like the rarest of all wines
Good poetry endures through time.
Phil Lindsey  5/16/15
Added a couple lines based on Steve's suggestion below!!
Phil Lindsey May 2015
Drivin’ with the kids in tow
Windows down, nowhere to go
Hands outside, feel wind blow
On country roads, fields passin’ slow.

Saw a hayrack sittin’ by a fence
“Rocks for Sale – Fifty Cents”
Thought I, it makes no earthly sense
To demand for rocks some recompense.

But the sign - unique enough to hail
(I protested - but to no avail)
The missus and the kids prevailed
A sale you see, is still a sale!

Before day and feelings I did mar
Realizing for the course it’s par
I turned around and stopped the car
It’s what I’ve become, and whom we are .

To the rack and rocks the kids did sprint
I got closer, had to squint
So I could read the finer print
Kids might have seen, but care they din’t.

Said the bigger rocks did cost a buck
I knew then that I was out of luck
Between a hard place and a rock I’m stuck
‘Twas bait and switch, and smelled like muck.

But the kids had picked from rocks galore
Put them in the trunk to store
The rack was less some rocks times four
And the coffee can had four bucks more!
PwL  5/16/15
Phil Lindsey May 2015
They buildin’ roads out of concrete, cover up the grass
Buildin’ roads out of concrete, cover up the grass
Roads ain’t goin’ nowhere, and concrete never lasts.

They buildin’ tall apartments, reachin’ to the sky
Buildin’ tall apartments, reachin’ to the sky
Don’t need no apartment, if I want to get up high.

They stringin’ words together, tryin’ to build a song
Stringin’ words together, tryin’ to build a song
Not sure what they’re saying, but I think that they are wrong.

They say the rain is comin’, better hide inside
Cold hard rain is comin’, better hide inside
Think I’ll just wait for sunshine, cuz I ain’t gonna hide.

They say there’s global warming, world’s gonna melt away
Say we got global warming, world’s gonna melt away
Oh but I ain’t gonna worry, meltin’ takes a couple days.

Yeah, They stringin’ words together, tryin’ to build a song
Stringin’ words together, tryin’ to build a song
Not sure what they’re saying, but I think that they are wrong.

They say that I need money, in order to survive
Say that I need some money, in order to survive
I don’t have no money, and I think I’m still alive.

And they say you gotta find a woman, if you want a happy life
Yeah you gotta find a woman, if you want a happy life
Well I think I’m pretty happy, and I don’t have no wife.

Yeah, They stringin’ words together, tryin’ to build a song
Stringin’ words together, tryin’ to build a song
Not sure what they’re saying, but I think that they are wrong.

They buildin’ roads out of concrete, cover up the grass
Buildin’ roads out of concrete, cover up the grass
Roads ain’t goin’ nowhere, and concrete never lasts.
Phil Lindsey, April 15, 2015
Phil Lindsey May 2015
A poem ran away from me
To catch, I tried in vain
It was swift and fleeting
I caught but the refrain.

I struggled with it mightily
And fought the best I could,
But the poem got the best of me
As I somehow knew it would.

For I am mortally infirm
And my poems, too, are ill,
A Doctor’s bedside manner
Requires he be still.

And listen to the patient’s voice
No matter what the words
For often, dying is the choice
When one cannot be heard.

“I’m fine, I’m fine”, the patient says.
I must go back to work.
But the X-rays show a shadow
Where the lethal cancer lurks.

And all the while I sing. I sing.
I commiserate my fate.
For I showed up at the finish line
A hundred years too late.

PwL 5/15/15
Phil Lindsey May 2015
When troubles build up mountain-size
Clouds and fog obscure the peak,
You cannot see the pathway up,
The future’s looking bleak,
When there aren’t enough hours in each day
Or enough days in each week,
You’re in a boat without a paddle
In a swiftly moving creek,
Your friends have faded into black,
Your whole life has sprung a leak,
Fate just punched you in the face
So you turned the other cheek.
When others have inherited
What was promised to the meek;
Faith alone can give you strength
And the solace that you seek.

When the morning sun defeats the fog
And brings the light to day
Illuminates the pathway up
And the clouds are pushed away
When the hourglass is full of sand
Each grain longer than a day
Your friends are in the audience for
The commencement of your play
The curtain rises, they applaud
The black has turned to gray,
You fight toward your own ending
Despite what critics say
If virtue is its own reward
Then all will be okay
For the faithful have their just reward
When comes the Judgement Day.
pwl 5/8/15
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