what do i have
that you could want?

you’ve flown like missiles
swam like submarines
i haven’t counted grains of sand on the beach

i haven’t roared the thunders
or painted islands,
…and yet you look at me?

I smile,
             but I don’t mean it
I cry,
             but you don’t see it
if time
             is what’s at stake
our lives
             are slowly fleeting
         –
you–
swat your hands through the web of our plans

you and I are not connected
         we are,
              strangers again
–
so what do you believe
are you still innocent to think–
that your lock is still genuine
that it'll work with my key?

“Are you okay?”,
my wife asks
when I cough.

“No. I’m fine.
Yes. I’m not”,
I respond,

stumping her
in the poetic irony
of words that

encompass the
yes and no
and the in between.

She flips the finger
at me and I return
the bird to the nest.

We go back to our life
and our tablets,
the drip, drip of my chemo
and I wonder about okay.

“No.  You’re fine.
Yes. You’re not.”,
the bag stares in response.

Many say, "It is just words and rhymes"
Words that don't speak
Words with no meaning

Truth is, the words do speak
but only with your inner-self
That's the reason poetry is healing

I shed a tear for you
From time to time.
Sometimes a little.
Often a river
When I’m missing you.

So hard to find you
In the hustle of the grind.
Family first, y’know,
Day to day.

Then I remember,
I can’t ignore,
That you were once me
I once you,
That little boy,
The adolescent,
The teen.

These days I shed a tear for you,
And then realize that you are me.

I'm an athlete.
I can throw and catch,
and run in the sun-
all shiny and bright.
And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look at me, mama.
I'm a writer.
I do poetry and stories,
all pretty and pink,
and all you do is,
sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look at me, mama.
I can dance.
I'm lonely,
I'll move to France,
meet a woman, get married.
Look at the ants crawl through
the spilled red juice on
the grass; nature everywhere,
as you sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look mama,
look at me, mama!
I have children now,
all good and wise,
you're a grandma.
Why don't you wake up?
Please look at me, mama.
I'm lonely and afraid.
I'm old now, and cold,
and you still,
just
sleep, sleep, sleep...