Sometimes in thoughtful
repose just riding a wave,
crus'in along in a surreal world,
appearing rather vacant you see.

I hang way out
on the edge of
never never land,
in the shadows close to the dark,

My return is generally,
in the blink of an eye.
So don't be deceived
by the view, you may see.

No matter words
or actions all
I never lose perspective
And really never go,

Completely out of control!

It was just a little town
in the boot-heel of Missouri
Cotton fields, sand, farming,
poverty all around.

My daddy was from this little town,
coming home with his wife,
pregnant with child to give
birth in his hometown.

All had gone smooth
as the time came to give birth.
Dad came in as mother screamed,
nurses pushing him out down three floors.

Bell ring ground floor
turning to go back up again.
Then met by the nurse
with doctor moving near.

Your wife we can save
but not your child,
now go back down
you'll just have to wait.

The adventure continued a few hours more
up to the top floor,
to be sent down again.
Smoking two packs of Camels,
as he paced the floor.

When all was said and done,
mom's welcoming dad,
holding me up in her proud arms.
That was the beginning of my journey.

Chasing Death Ever Since!

My Child

a poem by Catherine Z. Wells

How quickly you have grown my child.
All gone the days when you were small.

How Quickly time has flown my child.
Summer, Winter, spring and fall

If we could just return my child,
to days, you sat upon my knee.

Oh how my heart does yearn, my child,
Your dimpled smile again to see.

But you are now a family man,
no longer mine to hold your hand.

You have a different life, my child.
Love her, but keep me in your sight.

It may not always show, my child,
the love I hold so deep within.

But know that it is always there,
will always be, has always been.

Mother

Life is but as strong as the love which binds it.

My life has been filled
with words like high energy,
hyperactive and
uncontrollable at times.

Now from my view
from inside looking
out my whole life,
I was just expressing myself,
sharing my thoughts.

There is an old saying
about some things are
better in small doses,
that in my mind
has always been me.

Standing on the outside
looking in,
I look out at the world
that is often surreal.

I see faces, bodies start
to twist in the wind.
As confusion,
boredom set in,
I continue with
apparently no end.

Yet even as my mind
says stop,
I continue on at a
high rate of speed.

This type of mind
leads to other actions,
just as reactive
as my mind.

Seemingly out of control
to others standing,
watching to see
what I'll do next.

So as a young man,
say around 12,
my parents took me
to visit family friends.

While the parents visit
the children would play,
stay out of the way
as children did in the day.

We were sent to the
basement, out of the way.
The boy about my age
his younger sister
heading off to play.

As was my nature
having no control,
I started to take charge.
We looked at the toys,
playthings to share.

A bow and arrow
needed my attention.
After all, I was trained
as an archer when I was 8.
Time to show my
skills and marksmanship.

Taking the bow,
I strung it tight,
checking it's pull.
Grabbing an arrow behind the quill,
loading it carefully in the bow.

Then it happened as the
arrow took flight,
straight and true.

The squeal of a little girl
her brothers fast retreat.
Arrow finding it's mark,
now protruding half in
and out the basement window.

Only one thing left to do,
which I had done before.
Stand before parents
head hung low,
explaining the flight of the arrow
that was out of my control.