Why are we the way we are?
Fighting eachother
When we're all the same

We should be one
No more blame
War
Unnecessary hate
Or fame
We are all humans
Just people
And we will all die one day

We need conflict
But our brains do that for us
Why do we need to do it for each other?

We should be together
Fighting the internal monsters
Not judging if they have four eyes or green scales

We should be together
In our anger
And our confusion

We should be together
In our complexities
And beautiful strangeness

We should be together
Even when we don't like everyone
Because that's normal
While staying kind

We should be together

It’s in your aura
It’s in your eyes
It’s sitting up between your thighs
It’s locked
It’s loaded
It’s sugar-coated
With that mojo
Over-bloated
Got me singing to the breeze
Begging won’t you
Please PLEase PLEASE!
Get yaself between my knees

The diabetes makes me tired
I lay in bed and lonely
Things fall apart
I'm growing old

Keep them, keep them close
Grateful for small victories
Another day
Note to self: don't fold.

I take 6 different medicines
             see the doc
                  sleep

Yay! Some cold at last, and even a dusting of snow.
We moved back into the dorm—braving knife-like breezes—yesterday.
It was bracing and heroic - do I want it to warm up?
That’s a hard no.

let’s wax poetic..

Think not of winter as bleak
wrap your steely bones warmly, wear a cap
—for gelid wintertide can bind us together.

Midwinter is the time o' the year to be warm hearted,
to find a companion, a creature fair, a lass (or a manly man)
and suggest a more temperate snuggle— it can do no harm to try.

Think not of winter as bleak
make sweet use of flattery, and face cold’s embrace
likewise, cheek to cheek, with a warming and open heart.
.
.
Snowbird by Rani Arbo & Daisy Mayhem
We'll Sing In the Sunshine by Thornbirds

Old jewelry rests at the feet of ornate statues
They once had to be painstakingly painted on a canvas
And became real after the painting was burned centuries ago
Everything precious rests in the same place

A beloved cat lost to old age lays on a cushion
While his mother licks at his head attentively
Reunited again after seventeen years
Everything precious rests in the same place

A grandmother once again makes too much food
Even though she knew you couldn't finish it all
You're free to take from the plate again whenever you like
Everything precious rests in the same place

An unfinished medley plays softly in these halls
It would've been the old flutist's last piece
Though he never got the chance to quite perfect it
Everything precious rests in the same place

He was a sculptor
She was his inspiration
Never a Human
Always his muse

So when she died
He tried to resurrect his muse
With clay

He couldn't sculpt her face
He couldn't remember
He had lost his muse

Praise be punctuation
At the end of sentences
At least you could do
Something
To give us a break
Would be so kind
If you wouldn’t mind
Split up a series
To parse makes us weary
Appositives pop
Exclamations fly
In the face of
The moon
There’s one good eye
Lash
Us with parentheses
Make a bludgeon
Of the question
Of intended meaning
Must we wonder
How rhythm suffers

Praise be, punctuation!
At the end of sentences,
At least, you could do
Something.
To give us a break,
Would be so kind.
If you wouldn’t mind,
Split up a series.
To parse, makes us weary.
Appositives pop.
Exclamations fly!
In the face of
The moon,
There’s one good eye.
Lash
Us with parentheses!
Make a bludgeon
Of the question.
Of intended meaning,
Must we wonder?
How rhythm suffers!