Abstract, surreal, words to describe and ways to live and wander from one breath to next,
one is raspy
the other is smoky
years and months like calendar pages are all gathered at my feet
too bad I don't understand the language they are written in
too bad I see that the calendar pad is getting thinner
I like red wine
I like dark chocolate
i can't afford the taste they leave my mouth too often but it is so rich
poor me
pity me
everything I see is always half empty, what happened to the other half
I don't remember ever living life in the full
although I am told regularly I am full of it...
what do, they mean
I will sleep now and wake again to do what it is I do
but these words these images, flash before my eyes and
overload all the aging circuitry, so they think...
there is a certain flavor in the air when you run your
fingers across the screen and touch the what you read
as if we are connected, surreal eh?
No,
we are
not, except we are human and emote and share burdens
share life, share the things that make us laugh and cry
and never want to be alone once we have truly been alone,
truth is a rare fossil, and never found in one place together,
disintegrating,
moral, fiber,
oh if only I had taken up smoking at any point in my life,
I might have learned to enjoy a cigar,
music falls flat from my tongue and my
fingers get tangled tying shoelaces,
don't bother learning the cello or violin or ukulele,
as the only keys I would hit or find would be OFF,
though my ears would revel in the perfection, not
knowing the difference,
you don't like my tone, I actually have ONE, do I?,
I can't leave this unfinished,
I would worry you, YOU,
wouldn't I?
Truth has more meaning than it ever has,
lie is what I want to do on my bed.
Not listen to them, lies,
the ones that roll around in my head,
and diminish any thing I value
and diminish me, a Child of God.
Oh good I found a bigger sharper, newer shovel,
let me catch my breath and
I promise I will keep digging...
with my hole heart.


©DWE072013