Everyone finds time in a buck or a dime,
Or feast their eyes upon their technological gadgets,

Yet shalt thou take the time to tell thy other half how much thou love's them today?

Oh thou didn't think about it eh?

what will we do about the jams,
and what became of the wing…
and the wing naturally leads to the bird
it can be in the *** or head
and of course Steve Prefontaine….
we can with friends
and sometimes punch has it….
when Sinatra sang it sounded pleasant enough
and my grandmother used to get one right out of it
addicts who want better are faced with the decision
and a moose can **** a wolf…llamas and coyotes could work here too
the children’s cereal uses an “x”
and this poem deserves to be sent to the curb….
the amazing power
of the
kick –

she looked down at the dog’s cancerous paw
rubbing again the medicated salve
produced from politicized plant material
and a little ole American knowhow
a slight grumble escapes his floppy jowls

the ever-present battle against carcinogens
as, daily, we breathe what fukushima offers
and drink fluoridated water
while pesticides may as well be considered
a nutritional supplement

she reaches down and pats a greying head absentmindedly
from 68 lbs. back to 110
one year and seven months of cannabis oil
has given us a new lease
on an old dog

visions of my mother in the end-of-life care facility bed
stuffing pounds into capsules to grant life
falling short when it was needed most
four months and 12 days ago
I couldn’t do for her what I did for my dog

she takes the old man out to the field adjacent our home
he runs and bounds
stops to munch grass
and roll around on the green he cannot see
the green rolls around in my head
as I cannot see either

the mood,
influenced by the slightest breeze
changes with each gracefully passing cloud
sunlight waxes and wanes
bringing complaints
from ray worshippers

Ray looks up from his newspaper, startled
“Leave me outta this,” he says.

returning to the electric sky
my mind replaces cumulus clouds
with floating sea foam
churning in the wake
children body surfing
right over the top of a resting
Sting-Ray

Again, Ray looks up more sternly
“Knock it off!” he yells.

casting my thoughts back to the blue
a new vision rises from the ether
of soft tones and melodic tunes
of a gravelly voice
and the most marvelous ballrooms

Ray jumps up and shouts,
“Do NOT make a Ray Charles stanza!”

sheepishly, I move on to a new subject

reaching out my nervous hand
I met my first “real” poet
excitedly I introduced myself
wanting desperately for him to know my name
but for a better reason

even the greatest artist produces trash
so what chance did I have?
an assignment gone astray
turned into a meeting I will
never
     forget

I attempted to recreate drivel
and succeeded beyond compare
eventually turning myself into a goat
complete with horns and an attitude
I just hope redemption
can find the non-Christian

many little moments comprise this ride we call ‘life’
some inconsequential
some life-altering and forever remembered
……….I wonder which today’s will be

pain takes hold again
and I sit disturbed
not understanding why
I feel like such **** –
looking at 40 years
of systematic body abuse
from the hardest drugs
to the worst foods
lack of regular exercise
mingled with attitude –
irritated joints combine
with a furrowed brow
and crooked teeth
to create an image
of despair and anguish
as I attempt again
to rebuild this mess
into a prize of humanity –
silver whiskers and a stigmatism
misshapen nostril
and a **** chin
look back from the
cracked mirror
I am inferior –
beating myself up
over a belly devoid of beer
and the ever thinning
and receding hairline
I no longer feed my ego
as it sits starving
and neglected
rejected by the woes of aging –
enraged and feeling caged
I desire to fly free with Mya
but death is no repose
only an entry into the next phase
is existence really worth the trouble –
lamenting has taken its toll
and feeling like a whiney *****
I make the quick decision
to stop this nonsense --

What happened?
What happened to that 4 year old kid?
The kid that everyone knew.
The kid that had a broad smile.
The kid that's always happy.
The kid that's always active and sporty.
The kid that loves to play ball and had no worries over life.
What happened?
Now,that kid has growned up.
As he steps in to the teenage phase
He thought that everything was going to be fine.
But that was his largest mistake.
Gradually after the days.
He changed.
From a person who smiles to a person that's frowns.
He gave up on everything
His favourite hobbies and sports all seemed to have lost his interest
He was no longer that happy and chirpy boy.
He became a suicidal and depressed.
His best friend.  
The person that he trusted the most.
Betrayed him.
He was left shattered into pieces.
Helpless from what was to come
His life took a dive
Everything when from bad to worse.
He needed someone.
He has lost all hope.
What else can he do besides surviving the onslaught of his problems?

This flesh would fly,
this crawling creature climb
  if not for unseen strings
  (tethered as we are by time)
  and want of wings.
So it is we knot a noose
  in rotten rope
On blended bough
  we hang our hope.
Heaven seems much nearer now.
This soul could soar.
The staring eye in silent sky
   watches dreams die.
Falling's what the flight is for.