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HASN'T BEEN ALL THAT BAD

Looking back as far as possible at life
Over the life I've known so far
I guess I'd have to say did it my way
Been  mostly enjoyable whiskey in a jar

Always did things if able my own way
Ecept an ex or or two so to speak
Worked every day hard come what may
Always stood tall upon both of my feet

Mostly always was my own boss contracts
Made more than most gave way more away
But family have such selective short memories
The jokes on them I'm doing fine today

Done things no other would ever believe
Knew people many pay to go and see
A lot of them have since moved on
And are sailing a far off distant sea

Made love to women famous stars over time
Vowed to not repeat a name and have not
Seen a few in passing over time in life
Biggest smiles good friends memories a lot



My life to ths day never dull in any way
I've seen blokes I knew my age and hell
They all look way older than I do its true
Lived their life their way rang their own bell

Even now I have all a man could ask for
When we go we all go just as we came
And I in all honesty I have peace of mind
Come sunshime storms snow or rain

Their biggest woe in life has been money
Well I've had more than my very share
I helped more than any'll give me credit
Their money a rope around the neck to bare

They lived life as if an endless football game
Never thinking one day just if lucky memory
Mght end up with a name on a headstone
Many seeing it wonder who he once used to be

My life has been as good as it gets I feel
Wrote it all in poetry and song for years
I'll die one day up the way smiling my way
Been there done that no regrets no tears

http://i1130.photobucket.com/albums/m529/terryespie/THISISTHEONE.jpg

terrence michael sutton
copyright 2018
 Aug 2018 Jackie Mead
Jeff Gaines
Mark A. Williams
                            SEPTEMBER 14, 1962 – JULY 23, 2018

___________________­

Wow Mark,

Was so, so saddened to hear this news. I haven't seen you in over ten years, but as kids, we had some amazing adventures, didn't we? Partying, camping and swimming at the Hudson lime pits. Mowing down on Pizza and pitchers of Pepsi (and as we grew up, BEER!) at Pizza Hut. (We knew the numbers to ALL the songs on that jukebox by heart!) Hanging out and looking at the stars through Budvido's telescope, listening to Doctor Demento. Laughing hysterically as we ran through Monty Python skits as everyone looked on in total puzzlement because THEY wouldn't discover them until YEARS later!

Building underground forts in the North Woods. You, Budvido, Zeke and I playing pinball at 7-11 for hours and hours. Watching Bands, chasing girls and playing Foosball or Pool at the Touch of Class Teen Club. You gave me my first Imported beer . . . a Lowenbrau. I will always owe my passion for those German beers to you and it was fitting that Budvido bestowed you with that moniker.

All through Jr. High, sharing a seat on the school bus. You, Matt, Tom, Buddy and I cruising around late night on our bikes for hours. Hanging around in the Jasmine Lakes sign with hijacked beer or getting free bags of Burgers from Burger Queen when they closed at night! Jousting with shopping carts on our bikes in the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Sitting up all night in Jimi's room after climbing in through the window or going on endless space cruises with him and Raymond in the Toyota.

(RIP Jimi Carlsen)

Sneaking into the nudest Colony and skinny dipping! Always cracking up at the school lunch table. Swimming in my pool and terrorizing my sister and her friends. (Allegedly) Trashing that crook Fast Eddie's produce stand after he refused to pay us for a full day of picking watermelons!

Good times, indeed . . . Some of my most precious memories.

I can only pray that you know that I wouldn't trade my youth or you in it for anything in the world and you will be sadly missed, Lowenbrau, my old friend.

I hope that where you are, your beers are ice cold and that you and Jimi aren't having to glue the Hookah  back together.

Jeff Gaines
July 28, 2018
Such a sad task, to say goodbye to a friend with last words that may never had been spoken up until then. As it happens, this friend and I often relished in our youthful exploits, but still ... I'd not seen him in ten years. Because ... life happens. He had fallen on hard times and was bouncing place to place and I too was moving and living all over. We had spoken on the phone here and there and that would have to suffice.

I  haven't posted in weeks and I haven't read in almost 2 months. THANK YOU to those who have the patience with me to still read me, even though I can't reciprocate at the moment. I will, when time permits, come back and catch up on all of you. It will take me days and days!
I just can’t help noticing
So many poets
With splits hearts
The hearts that cries out for help
Yet I’ve noticed
The silent sounds
From the comments
The words you’ve  never said
Not a sound is heard
As they’re desperately crying for help
Their tears are falling for us
Their words crying ink
To be touched and set free
we must open our eyes
To their writings for it has a tale to tell
A glimpse of the roller-coaster of emotions
going on through the poets lives
But many go unnoticed
So I prayed
We can noticed their cries
And shield them from dangers unaware
And try to see yourself through the poets minds
Sometimes I ask myself
Are they truly In need of help
Or Is it just writings
And since I don’t have the answer
You don’t know the answer
We must and should
Reached out
Yes it is true
It’s not  our profession
But it is also true that
We are all God’s creatures
And the great book says
help those who cannot
Help themselves
So next time you
And you and you
Notice a writer
Crying out for help through their ink
It won’t hurt to send
them a few words
of encouragement
A few words of hope
Or maybe just a good morning
Sometimes goes a long way
let them know
Life is precious
It has its ups and downs
But it always gets better
As I expressed
It wasn’t long ago
When a phone call saved my life
Maybe you’re the last word
the poet is waiting on
Before they’ve reach a dead end
It’s too late
 Aug 2018 Jackie Mead
Pagan Paul
.
And quiet, a cemetery of the ancients,
fondled by the coiling mist of morning,
snuggles deep in the heart of the forest,
its quintessential stillness undisturbed.

And the sun ignites the darkened glade,
with a light that transfixes time itself,
heralding the infernally ponderous day,
when life endures the basics of survival.

And the moon shines in silver shards,
slanting beams with mystical hues,
announcing the delicious dark night,
where once again lies endless sleep.

And the shades of ageless dead relatives,
gravely sit and tell old ghost stories,
silencing the cold stone walls of tombs
with historic wisdom of times long gone.



© Pagan Paul (2017/18)
.
 Aug 2018 Jackie Mead
storm siren
Kiss my palm

My hand touches your cheek
My thumb caresses your bottom lip.

You can't help but finally smile at me.

You run your calloused hands
Though my wild tangle of
Dark fire hair.

You pull me close.

It is not what I expect.

You tell me
"I told you to forget."

I sigh,
"When have I ever listened?"
I feel like I'm trapped
In time and space
But you are not
On my continuum

I search each hall
Only to find pictures
Hung of you
With no after

I'm miserable and
Complacent
There's only one thing
I could think of

Play you just say
Play
And I will

Dream you just say
Dream
And I will

Forever you just
Say forever

And I scream
STAY just
Stay
 Aug 2018 Jackie Mead
sunprincess
With every star that's served it's purpose
Shining in a constellation, shining bright,
Alas, then succumbing to a star's death,
An explosion of a blinding white light

Listen and hear a multitude of angels cries
And a trumpet blowing saying goodbye,
Throughout the long sad crimson night
For every star's special that's born and dies
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