Memories of you
Collect
Like raindrops on
A downward *****

I know that
Soon enough

I will drown.

Felonious bologna spread
sweet meaning lips to air
through air to ear.
Good kids grew up framed
Bad kids grew up changed
Zip burnt bone butts
Sweep the back patio
Procure snap lights
Glow sticks in darkness
Vibration received
One hand on the other's trail
White-blue red-pink
Write names with innate
Shapes in muscle memory

As we press on into the future we must remember the past to slingshot forward into what is to become
we mustn't ever forget what we were to become who we are
or forgot what we've done to create something new

Under the gazebo,
you sang in silly cadence
while patting along on your lap
you smiled so happily.
You made my heart beat rapidly
and you still do, so easily
even now just remembering
my heart pounds without warning.
It yearns for the memories to repeat.
So often, I'll lay and reminisce,
even so my heart begs me to rewind,
I feel it crying for what's inside.

With all the branches bowing down
By the weight she had, the fruits and leaves
The evening rays rubbed them, so colorful
A few fell down, flew down with the breeze
It was a funeral, every sight at once
No one noticed, a new born, an old fell

Everyone had their heads bowed down
A long story ended, another book published
To mother nature, God will evaluate him
Must have filled with adventures, mercy or crime
I believe, you've taught your children good
They are grieving, picking up a hand full of mud

In the midst of rituals, a host of sparrows
Flew above us, chirping, far away
Yes, here, I witness
Today, tomorrow or someday
I'll doom into your body, six feet under

When the only snow you see in December is in your snow globe
When the only Christmas spirit is alcohol
When you've filled up on too much on Christmas food
and the super market cashier is being rude
When your turkey won't cook
and kids and toys are making too much noise
and the adult boys are out for the count after eating
and your so tired you feel like you've taken a beating
when Christmas telly is all repeats
and you are the only person in the street without decorations
and you are left alone to make preparations for the big day.
When you've got a stinking man flue cold that won't go away
and the smell of cold Brussel sprouts is like mould
and you've been told that this Christmas hasn't met expectations
and the box of chocolate sensations has all gone
Remember it's one day and it'll all too soon be over.