She stands at the window
a fine white stream of goodevil knowledge
trickling down her chin

Lungs heaving against the pane
Lungs heaving against the pain
She longs for a killer breeze
from the die-hard fan.

The yellow-eyed seconds slither out the clock
hi S S ing in rhythm as they crawl.

On the table lies the used core of a once
juicy red delicious
hourglass figure, cyanide hearts and all

She is aware of her own nakedness.

The moon watches on
bleeding silver
from stab wounds by dagger-branches
waiting for a crack in the window
through which to enter

The Tree of Life towers menacingly overhead.

He walks in
AdamAnt
intelligent-designer suit: businessgod attire
briefcase in hand
brief case in point

He knows.
She knows.
Time knows.

An Electrified goliath stirs in the depths

The Ego awakens
lifts its rod
beckoning to the waves of children behind it,
parts the folds of red sea
charges head on.

It rides long and hard
hooves pounding the riverbed
Ready
to pull out on the other side

But the branches find their crack.

The Enraged goliath stumbles
suffocating
Ego trips
relentless walls closing in,
It goes under in a seizure
frothing at the mouth
drowning
as its children swim.

Time holds the twosome breath in its constricting grip
Tree binds Life inside a cell
at the center of the evolving prison

The pane, reflecting
The pain, reflected
Window souls mirror soul's Window

Branches regain their higher dwellings.

An exhumed goliath stirs
on a distant shore.

She stands at the window
a fine white stream of goodevil knowledge
trickling down her shin.

Elegantní Lebed

On Vltava waters
I saw a Graceful Swan,
Peaceful and modest
Full of quiet confidence
She looked like a Fawn

I fall in love with her
From thousand miles away,
Frightened of thoughts
My crazy mind created

Swan spread her wings
To save me from darkness
I was one step away from jumping,
She embraced my sadness
And it felt like a heaven
Invited me to her secure haven

She patiently waited
Playing down her strength
Showing me a way to the calmness I crave

Above Vltava flow
In my mind I see
Gorgeous Swan dances
Twosome with Firebird

6.7.2019

A backdrop of gorgeous hues, tints, and shades peeking in from afar draw near, I on one side, it on the other, the two of us bidding for a glance at two white doves on center stage.  
 
Their eyes converging, their glance coinciding, a replica of the simplicity in which they were brought together, a dual recognition ignited by the burning of hearts and the lumination of souls. 
 
Affectionate hands coupled in an orbit of serenity, her passionately embracing his with a tug of excitement gushing I’m yours, his tenderly and securely supporting hers and in acceptance of gifts of admiration and approval, he is humbled whilst mesmerized by her captivating beauty and elatious smile.  
 
Two distinct bodies standing still between an air of transparency and vulnerability, they occupying an endearing space serenading to sweet melodies reminiscent of one exclusive life. A bit of haze lingers behind her, her ***** drumming to a cheerful step toward his, there she waits in an affirmative reply of what much he has to offer her, what much he has given her. He consumed by her presence, his face speaking something his mouth cannot. A yearning for each other unspoken, the romantic harmony of a moonstruck light and a synchronized kiss. Their bodies held captive by their souls set free. 
 
An impartial unfinished hallow sits as a canopy above, gracing its cascading rays on the couples’ faces creating unique shadows on each, one caressing the other in a playfully warm exchange. Overwhelmed by his serenade, emotions overflow and an innocent blush appears, his heart unburdened, skipping to a resounding beat and the words, I found my soulmate. With a slight rise of her jaw, she’s smitten with this king, the delicate skin of her countenance warmed by the glow of his, a pink dusting of her freshwater pearls.  
 
A love affair unconventional, a duo in adoration, a marriage of crisp airiness and a desire for discovery ringing true, a fondness between man and woman precious like a round cut diamond, weightless as dandelion fuzz blowing in the wind, beaming identical to that of a fluorescent night star, the twosome looking into one soul rejoices intimately at their romantic chemistry and unyielding bond. 
 
A gracious audience of ink, navy, and Prussian blue, antique and porcelain white, emerald green and scarlet pink in a pose of calm celebration, honors the mister and missus with an exuberant ovation. Entangled in a web of love with a sincerity stringing them in unison, the two in a trance cherishes a declaration so glamorous, a devotion so light.

There was a sun
behind  'The Sun'
that burned a little differently.
There was a sun
farther away,
that shone a little differently.

No source of light
No source of warmth
Was not the benevolent of nature.
There was a sun
who looked a lot like you
A sun, of higher stature.

Fierce soldier, fighting hard
Cared not, feared not
the tides, the moon, the death lake.
Would burn and melt and heat and bake
Cared not, feared not
about anyone, but his dear snowflake.

He moved about,
round and round
unlike the many others.
Spellbound by the softness
of the snow ,the tempted young sun
couldn't stay any farther.

And thence moved,
the imperious sun
at a steady but leisurely pace.
Towards the wishful
and restless snowflake
who waited for his wordless embrace.

This twosome of heat and frost
wasn't meant to be
said the Mighty Lord.
Disregarding the Lord's words
The fervid sun said
"We shall be together against all odds"

Hesitant and anxious
were the first touches,
strong was this polarized attraction.
Melted the snow on the Sun's surface,
He couldn't stop this
unintentional percolation.

She gave her life
To the infinite sun
Though ,In his core she was reborn.
Calmed his inferno, the snowflake
Outstretched her empty hands again,
Cooled down the sun's wrath, like she had sworn.

Classic style of Born shoes have been known using leather, instead of synthetic man made materials. As you know, leather is a natural moisture wicking agent and helps keep the foot dryer and cooler. Another special feature of Born shoes is the Dryz sock linings that is available in Born shoes sport style.

Most newer laptops have an S-video output built-in. You have probably guessed already that these www.facebook.com toms shoes outlet video outputs send the video signal to your TV. You guessed right. Hours of paddling can be enjoyed in this remote yet easily accessible location surrounded by Prospertown Wildlife Management Area. Neither gas nor electric motors are permitted, but since the lake is not patrolled regularly, a few tend to slip in now and then. Nevertheless, these waters rarely become crowded, even on the hottest summer weekend.

Evening Weddings ?These may be black tie, formal, or informal. But black-tie dress implies that a man is expected to show up in a tuxedo and women should wear a long or short cocktail dress. If the occasion is listed as ormal or informal? the man can wear a dark suit in navy, black, or charcoal grey ?with a beautiful dress shirt, jeweled silk tie, and a pocket square in a color tone to complement the tie.

Reports regarding child labor surface periodically. Children crawling in mines, faces ashen,  body deformed. The agile fingers of famished infants weaving soccer ***** for their more privileged counterparts in the USA. Incredulously, I recognized from a few angled lines at the end of the drive Charlie's ever-present scrap metal pile. Cedar and deciduous trees in the wooded areas were distinguishable from one another in simple, but deftly penciled strokes and swirls. He'd even captured the farm's power sources - tractors with hay wagons, the farm truck, pea-sized draft horses, and two diminutive figures in the front yard..

It should be mentioned that if you move to their playground, you will find there a real criminal wild level. It is the only level where murders happen because a fight for swag is carried there. You try to nap a piece?of property from the jaws, even if it is your own property, but the things for you may be finished badly.

Face and strap color - Another new trend in watch design is with the dials and straps. Watches, both expensive and cheap, are now being made in bold and exciting colors. Just be careful about buying a colored watch if it is going to be your everyday watch.

Having learned under the tutelage of LOSTerminds Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse, it's understandable that the talented (babyandyUSA-March-11) twosome that are Horowitz and Kitsis want to do nothing less than shoot for the stars by crafting and equally compelling world filled with good and evil character, not to mention life and death stakes. Unfortunately, the one thing that really seems to have gotten, well lost this season is the fun. In other words, when you're responsible for writing a show about handsome princes, damsels in distress, witches, fairy-godmothers, etc鈥?it would be nice if an episode could go by that doesn't involve a grisly ****** or loss of limbs..  2013-03-14.

Hands interlaced
Such a beautiful face
How I love this place

My hope is eternity
Or at least infinity
To create our city

A friendship blossomed
For us so awesome
A perfect twosome

My hope is a life lived
To be said
There is where two lovers meet
Hand in hand, Side by side

For all their days and then more yet still

Lately my whole life has been about my right hand
I have two hands
Whatever happened to the left?
Why is she so forgotten
How am I supposed to be fair?
So much of this life is lived with two hands
I need to care for the both of them
I know that most people only have 1 major hand
But there is something important about the fact that one does most of the work
While there is so much potential for the other unused hand
Stay golden, hands.

Embodied in a perpetual persona of shitheaded seventeen
(Before you snuck out on a cold silver sheet)

You could measure your lifespan (or is it your wingspan, now? did you know it's the same as your height?)  in late-night shenanigans topped with bacon-guaca-holy-moly burgers, tumbling in neon spandex and the raising of general hell, which you probably can't reach right now,

(And how many flaming bags of feces on why-not doorsteps, for me?)

Speaking of me,
Do you remember when I kissed your head beside a broken down photo machine? Do you remember when we ran away from your first girlfriend (her first kiss) and laughed because you had a current girlfriend? Do you remember when we tried out clouds in department store floor levels, like you were planning on getting one all along? Like you were my (first) and now my (late) husband? Three years doesn't seem very long ago, when placed in proportion with - what was that word again - eternity?

You were but a fleeting presence not only in my life, (in her life, his life, their lives now broken from a trio into a typical twosome) but in your very own - one blonde beach-bunny darting from top-hat to top-shelf

(Could you give up World of Warcraft for a World of pearly White?)
(Would you take me to my Senior Prom?)

We will float yellow rubber ducks down the water at your wake (one by one) and eat food-court teriyaki because no one is allowed to be sad (says you)

(Jesus, baby, what's your dang address?!)

In the end, you ride off into the sunset on your unicycle, like the bad movie that this is
(Screaming, "this thing's killer on the *****!")

how it is
to mean
so little

you clean your list
erase me
along with others
i'm sure

i always made sure
to mean more
in the past

now
it stunnes me
how insignificant
i must have been to you

i guess it serves a purpose
to experience that as well

but it hurts
slightly more
than i thought it would

Mirthful sunlit chimes spoke of fondness
Ever they'd enmesh in love's binding tress  
Streams of joy did gurgle with much delight  
Their hearts according in rapture's notes
Bright news resounded through these totes
They'd professed to each other love's tie
Twas a pairing which would ne'er fade or die
Heavens arrayed in spangling starlight
The twosome combined so divinely
A sweet syrup bliss ringing sublimely
Love's declaration pleasantly pealing
Throughout the continents both near and wide
The turtle doves love ever to reside
These gladdest tidings truly appealing

The Many Stages of Life.
Shakespeare wrote: that in Life,
we pass through seven,stages,
and for each stage, we fill many pages.
Recording details, joyful and sad:
of deeds done, be they good or bad.
Lifestyles led - be they short or long:
a mournful dirge or joyful song?
they’ll mark times of joy and strife
each book recording a stage in life.
But of all events therein, there’s no doubt,
The Rhythm of Life, runs throughout!

Herewith my attempt to describe poetically,
the Seven Phases, of life in metred rhyme:

A baby’s first cry, a Mother’s sigh,
a Father’s joy, be it girl or boy!
The Rhythm of Life - renewing.

Tho not adept, a toddler’s first step:
an excited giggle, a hesitant wiggle!
The Rhythm of Life - exploring.

A chilling dream: a piercing scream:
a splashing bath, a show of wrath!
The Rhythm of Life - revealing.

It’s off to school, playing it cool,
friendships made, twixt lad and maid,
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.

In the Class, shy looks pass:
Girl dates boy, flirting coy:
The Rhythm of Life - delighting.

Embarrassed flush: a girlish blush.
With proposal made, plans are laid,
The Rhythm of Life - maturing.

Lovers matched, a wedding hatched,
with banns said, the twosome wed.
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.
Twixt a couple paired, love is shared.
Next it’s three, maybe more to be?
The Rhythm of Life, expanding.

Heaven be praisedACA, the family’s raised,
then comes the desire, to retire.
The rhythm of Life, now slowing.

After happy years, and some tears,
walk grows slow, soon time to go.
The Rhythm of Life, is waning.

When The Reaper calls, the curtain falls:
being time to leave, some will grieve.
For The Rhythm of Life, has ended!

Rhymer.  May 23rd, 2018.

If E=MC2 and one of
those squares is not
on the hypotenuse,
then, that means May,
or Corbyn one of them
is the catch, in 22 over
seven, thus a sine, or a
co-sine of an impending
tangent, which in theory
is a hypothesis without a
principle of average law.
In lay man's terms it will
be a compounding error
because England is not a
May/Corbyn mathematical
tandem twosome in duet
at a time when a unified
solution is needed to the
European Equation with
no common denominator.

My heart, already wounded, wants to give out. It cried in pain the night I said goodbye, but harder still the night you kissed me again. It's choking on the blood that keeps me alive, so I think I'll drain it, drip by drip. It's so hard to think of all of these things that I've done, and all those things I did with you. My eyes shrivel up in pain, with no more tears to cry. You made me cry again tonight while I wallow in my guilt.
It hurts so bad to see you like that, so bent up... So unhappy. Because of me.
My heart can't take anymore of my abuse. We were a perfect twosome, tangled in the strings of grief and passion, pain and pleasure.
My heart has been destroyed. I feel the fluids of life slowly leaking out... It gets so hard to say goodbye, but now I know, that my heart is giving up. Giving up on you. Giving up on an "us". I love you. And I hate what you've done to me. But I don't want to leave you here... Alone in the dark. But only I can see the light and I want you to follow me.
So watch me pull myself together with some ***** needles. Watch the blood deep though the spot where your X was drawn and watch me curl up and die. But I'm sorry. Will that ever be enough?

Don't come round here flirtin'
If you haven't got the game
If you can't deliver
I don't want to know your name

Sending drinks and cutesy smiles
Don't go too far round here
You'd better send at least two shots
And at least a jug of beer

You'd better bring your "A" game buddy
Cause sometimes it gets  ******
Don't leave your "A" game on the shelf
Cause you'll go home all by yourself

You'd better give as well as get
Now you're in the south
Our cougars here aren't like those up north
Our girls ...they give good mouth

They've heard it all a million times
Don't come with a cheap line
They don't drink things with flowers in
And they don't drink cheap boxed wine

You'd better bring your "A" game buddy
Cause sometimes it gets ******
Don't leave your "A" game on the shelf
Cause you'll go home all by yourself

They're barracudas in this bar
They've got teeth, and they will use 'em
So, buddy you'd best be on your game
Or you won't go home a twosome

Our women here get treated special
And son, they're mighty proud
Look at someone elses woman
And they get mighty loud


You'd better bring your "A" game buddy
Cause sometimes it gets  ******
Don't leave your "A" game on the shelf
Cause you'll go home all by yourself

Shakespeare wrote: that in Life,
we pass through seven,stages,
and for each stage, we fill many pages.
Recording details, joyful and sad:
of deeds done, be they good or bad.
Lifestyles led - be they short or long:
a mournful dirge or joyful song?
they’ll mark times of joy and strife
each book recording a stage in life.
But of all events therein, there’s no doubt,
The Rhythm of Life, runs throughout!

A Challenge was issued to write a poem,
based on the theme "The Rhythm of Life."
Herewith my attempt to describe poetically,
the Seven Phases, of life in metred rhyme:

A baby’s first cry, a Mother’s sigh,
a Father’s joy, be it girl or boy!
The Rhythm of Life - renewing.

Tho not adept, a toddler’s first step:
an excited giggle, a hesitant wiggle!
The Rhythm of Life - exploring.

A chilling dream: a piercing scream:
a splashing bath, a show of wrath!
The Rhythm of Life - revealing.

It’s off to school, playing it cool,
friendships made, twixt lad and maid,
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.

In the Class, shy looks pass:
Girl dates boy, flirting coy:
The Rhythm of Life - delighting.

Embarrassed flush: a girlish blush.
With proposal made, plans are laid,
The Rhythm of Life - maturing.

Lovers matched, a wedding hatched,
with banns said, the twosome wed.
The Rhythm of Life - inviting.

Twixt a couple paired, love is shared.
Next it’s three, maybe more to be?
The Rhythm of Life, expanding.

Heaven be praised, the family’s raised,
then comes the desire, to retire.
The rhythm of Life, now slowing.

After happy years, and some tears,
walk grows slow, soon time to go.
The Rhythm of Life, is waning.

When The Reaper calls, the curtain falls:
being time to leave, some will grieve.
For The Rhythm of Life, has ended!

Rhymer.  March 16th, 2018.

who are we?

we do not fight
we do not fight

except when this
returns in waves

you
feeling
unprioritized  
unloved
scared

me
feeling
insufficient       
hamstrung  
lost

you are
my only
one  

i spoke of you
around the globe
through the stars
and back

you made a
home for me
warm and bright
no strings attached

we never fought
we do not fight

but this one
these fears  
never seem to
fade

what will it make of us?

do not forget me
as i trickle into your skin
funnel babe
trying to slightly breathe again darkwards we move

(undercover king
under covers will be paradise and
inferno
a wasteland of blankets and spit)

cut off my fingertips and i'll remain Other
and i'll somehow Stain you

and i hold on to the tension
spread it out butter on bread
strange breed that is all there is to say about it

the amount of people who
walk on bare feet i
cannot believe the
fragility in the streets

me: with nausea and extra cover
you: starting and pinning and purring and running
we: twosome group of always more cannibalism

animals and cages we
change constantly

a maybe-core

Doom and gloom
You would assume.
Jaded to a fault.
Hate my parents
Hate my life
Blah blah blah
But on a sarcastic note,
There are things I feel
I should inform,
This society of faceless prose,
I'm actually quite unoriginal
And awkward as far as I go.
I fall a lot
I laugh even more
I'm obsessed with a lot of musical scores.
I can draw and play stringed wood
I'd love to dance...
If I only could.
I love the elderly
And the habits they keep.
I love little kids
And the way that they creep.
I'm prone to an unexpected collapse
Of thoughts and rationality.
The color red
Tickles my fancy.
Mac and cheese is a classic dish of mine.
Cheesecake makes my sweet tooth rot.
And I think three toed sloths are out right FINE!
No, they really are! Check them out.
They're my spirit animal without a doubt.
I like to look up cats on YouTube.
And I'm obsessed with SEGA genesis too.
I enjoy a good calorie burn
If it means getting off the couch for the tv channel to turn.
I'm not fat but I'm not thin
I'm too lazy to notice if that smell is coming from me or the trash can.
I don't like mirrors or olives that much.
Brussel sprouts are also included in that bunch.
I converse with myself until I get caught
By people thinking I'm talking to them
When I'm not.
Disney movies, **** yes please!
Favorites are hunchback of Notre dame and Hercules.
Sandman comics and Calvin and Hobbes
Are written in my nightly dreams.
Don't like coffee and I don't like tea
But red bull makes my eyes twitching.
Vanilla is my favorite smell.
I don't like chocolate all that well.
I talk too much about nothing at all
And when it comes to love,
I love to fall.
5'2"...yes I'm shorter than you
I'm well aware of it when reaching for things too.
I dye my hair and cut it myself.
It took a lot of bald months
To have it this fancy and lucious.
I get a lot of looks while driving the scene
When a baby doll like me is blaring slipknot, Metallica, pantera, or coheed.
I'm nearly 25 but look 17
And I still have a soft spot for shel Silverstein.
Neil gaiman is my main man to read
And his wife, Amanda Palmer, has created my favorite music scene.
I used to wear a lot of black
Until I graduated high school and said
"The hell with that."
Colors aren't as bad as all of that.
I like my knives and my stuffed animals just the same
Strangers things I'm crazy
Crazy people think I'm sane.
I'm a hippy as far a fashion dreams
Bell bottom pants and worn out band tees.
I have more guy friends than girls
And I think it's getting me in just as much trouble.
I thought I was gay once
But japan made me sure
When approaching a drunken *******
I couldn't even touch the guy or the girl.
So I declined, my eyebrow confused and creased
Turned that ******* into a twosome
And left them in peace.
I design tattoos and have a few of my own
Based on comic books as my arms would show.
I'm a bit of a nerd but there are worse things to be
Now you know I'm kind of perky
Do you still like me?

~for you~*

~~~

when I put
twosome of twisted lips together,
long dragging one foot clubbed,
agony before the other,
but one hand obeys commands,
the other disdains, ignores,
one only eye-seeing, vision impaired,

and the body laughs at the notion of
paired coordinates

tongue disobeys desires,
limping thru life's everything,
thoughts locked down on pause,
mid-think is a cassette tape
in a seven-second delayed,
a fist cannot be unbroken, unwound

chorus of mockers,
herd of haters
rejoice in my diminution,
using my weakness for ammunition

for I am a stutterer,

just another you,

misstepping, fracturing,
the minutes of a life disastered,
suffered, sadly, no gladly hanging about

but I do not forsake hope

repair each word with the honor
of a slow enunciation distinguished,
ungainly shaped, yet soldier-motion forward,
in small poems and  with one hand holding

for I am armed with certainty

as I stutter thru living,
more than awaiting, comprehending,
you, you,
understand full well,
that we are all handicapped

salvation arrives when
a touching whisper heard in one solitary ear,
you sir, you, are not alone

for who among us dare deny
*we are all stutterers

Swiftly swiping through frozen memories, & I stumbled upon something astounding.

A spectacle that didn't seem to surprise, just another example of the standard sensitized society that we have been settled into for far too long.

It was an image of a couple that I steadily "stalked", per se, but more of supported from a secluded distance. Spread across the picture were the same two sapiens so surely in love; yet I could see the sadness in both their sockets as clear as a sunset on a cloudless day.

Smiles stretched from side to side on both their faces, but if you stared sharply you could spot the sorrow submerged in their souls.

The inseparable twosome were ironically split from each other, standing on opposite sides of a sidekick whose sole purpose was to serve as a distraction to the shadowed love which never dare show its existence to spectators.

Secrets sorted into the minds of offspring, scared to say the truth because of suspicion that they might surrender the love they once secured.

You see, being straight is the sustainable selection for the future of our race, the single method of sharing in the responsibility of our species' survival.
 
A decision of sexuality spoken during sermon that is made for us by a creator... long before conception.

As sinful as this may sound, I refuse to concede to a forsaken life sanctioned by a story scripted 3500 years ago.

It sickens me to witness a universal sensation of emotion between two spirits be the reason for such substantial suffering.

A person need not be scorned due to their desired source of seduction or for having that undescribable sense of freedom we never discerned was enslaved to begin with.

We don't get to choose what sparks our minds to skyrocket, our knees to shiver,  and certainly not our hearts to break.

We are deserving of safety in our own sanity, a sanctuary where stress couldn't search even if it had a warrant.

There ought to be a set of statutes that don't segregate humans for seeking associations with members of the same ***.

The laws we have now are schemes designed to set aside our natural tendency to scour for bliss. Let me tell you precisely why I broke those rules and was sentenced to serve an eternity in prison.

I stole binoculars from the store so I could see a sight too distant for my eyes; I searched a century ahead of our time and spied on a social world not similar to ours, one seasoned enough to where I don't need to sugar coat my findings. Simply put, we surged away from stereotypes and settled into a state of serenity.

My rhymes are sore.
I've sprained both my
Anaphoras quite badly. Oh,
And I bleed from all my metaphors.

My episthropes are fractured from
Endless twosome emphasis.
I've taken a bad one today.
It's bedtime for beat poets.

Both feet on the floor and the reality of my day starts.

I didn’t think it was going to be one of those days.  I woke-up with so much energy, but then remember that you are not here.  Where the **** are you?  It has been like what, three months?   You have been gone for that long.  Three ******, long months.  

My legs are like molasses.  I take steps towards the bathroom, which seem to take me forever.  Finally I arrive, to bask in the bliss of my first morning ****.   I make my way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on, before turning-on my phone.  Yes!  I have messages from you.  But, it’s the same old, same old - you’re having a good time, meeting loads of people, seeing loads of things, blah, blah.  The standard *******.  But you still haven’t answered my question, “when are you coming back?  I miss you - things are lonely here without you **”.  I’ve asked it, over and over, with each message you send.  And each time, I get no response.

Today is Tuesday, Shrink-Tuesday.

I hate the guy.  Not the guy himself, I mustn’t over exaggerate.  What I really hate, is the idea of seeing a shrink.  I’m sure he’d be cool to go out and have a drink with, but as a shrink he *****.  All shrinks ****. I don’t even want to be here.  I already know what’s wrong with me.  This is the first time we’ve been apart in 15+ years and I’m feeling it, you know.   I’m really feeling it.  I miss you.  I tell the shrink that I’ve received messages from you.  I get that same flat look he always gives me.  Interested, but not so interested.  And each time, he asks me what you said, how I felt about it and what I replied.  But this time, I’ve brought the phone.  That excites him a little.  I can see it in his face.  He goes through the messages, and hands it back to me.  ‘So how does her response make you feel?’  I want to punch him right, bang in his gob.  The session’s over.  I ask when he thinks he’ll sign me off to get back to work.  I just need to something to do.  Something to occupy my time.  ‘We’ll see.  Let’s talk about it next week.’

Tuesday turns into Wednesday; Wednesday into Thursday, and days, into days, into days. My daily routine continues.  Wake, ****, coffee, check messages, remain idle.  Saturday rolls around.  Still no news from you.  I have the gruesome twosome over for a visit - your mother and my mother.  All they do is fuss, fuss, fuss.  I’m not sure why they don’t think that I can’t manage the house on my own?  I know you’ll be laughing at that when you read it. No really, they’re alright.  I must admit, I’ve had a rough couple of days, and I'm glad to have their company.  And, for the first time, I’m looking forward to Shrink-Tuesday.  I realise that I’m not coping.  I just need you back.  We go for a ride.  They both insist.  We stop-off for a quick bite to eat at Bernies Café (you love that place). With lunch finished, your mother wants to visit your father’s grave.  You know how much I hate cemeteries.

En route to the cemetery, and within twenty minutes we arrive.  I want to stay in the car, but those two wont’ have it.   ‘You came for fresh air.’  Fresh air yes; to walk among the dead, no - how creepy.  They mean well, so I acquiesce.  We arrive at your father’s grave.   Mum and I, our arms intertwined, watch as your mother, after sitting down on her portable chair, places fresh flowers on his grave.  Your mother is talking him, I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I can still tell that she misses him.  Your mother’s done.  I am more than ready to leave.  As I turn to go, mum pulls me back, ‘Go on David, it would be such a waste if you didn’t say hello.’  I can hear your mum’s voice behind me ‘Hello Janine, we’ve come for a little visit.  And look who I have with me?  David.  David’s come to visit you’.  I hear your name, and I become paralysed.  I want to run but I am unable to move. Mum is now standing in front of me, and like a mother with her child, she takes me in her arms, and slowly turns me around.  My eyes are closed.  I don't want to see.  But I know they can't stay closed forever.  I open my eyes, and it’s there.  I can see it - the tombstone.  Mum’s holding onto me, and all I can hear is my silence. Silence and my tears.  There’s so much I want to say.  But I can’t.  It hurts so much, that I can’t speak.  And what could I say that I’ve not said in the past 3 months?  I miss you.  Things are so lonely here without you.  And I just want to know, when you’re coming back.

On Sunday
I observed the lawn bowling

An interesting game
The ball breaks just like a golf ball
It looked quite difficult

And these older women
Appeared to be quite skilled

One showed a beautiful smile
As she walked

I sat and observed the people relaxing
In the park
On a Sunday in June

Quite Idyllic

And as I approached the putting green
Located not far from the lawn bowling
An old man helped
An even older man into his car

The older of them may have been
In his early nineties
He had a beautiful smile

I practiced putting for a while
And in the far distance

A familiar sight
A twosome pushing pull carts

With sun umbrellas in their hand

The American flag flowing in the breeze
America, America

This used to be a better nation
Although never perfect

Involved in too many foreign wars
A nation in debt
Corrupt banksters and politicians
There is no future in this land

Maybe this classic American Sunday
Will be a thing of the past soon

a trickle did course
along its trace
no surging torrent
in its place

as love blossomed
into full bloom
the river did gain
in it's volume

burgeoning waters
spilled o'er it's banks
with a brimming
lapping at it's flanks

as the years matured
the rivers of love
took a lasting bend

into a wealthy rapport
the twosome
did beautifully blend

love's chorus sings in the river's gush
a sustaining refrain so very lush

their tributaries coalescing for a lifetime
journeying love's waters so sublime

Twas purely happenstance,
that a quick passing glance
caused Love to be ignited.
Still three years would pass,
before that slender lass
and I were lovingly united!

Firstly to places far away,
I was sent, to work and play:
twas a journey long expected,
but on my return - a later day,
the fates in their devious way,
smiled on me unexpected!

From letters in her fair hand,
I learned about her island land,
and how her days were spent.
As months and years went by,
they helped to make time fly.
So much to me they meant!

With my duty done, I returned
for a vacation, I had earned,
and asked if she would visit?
For by now, the bond I’d made,
with this attractive maid,
had fostered dreams exquisite!

After my heartfelt personal plea
to come visit me and my family:
which she accepted gracefully,
we took cycling trips here and there,
that fostered memories to share
even as love blossomed naturally.

Twas then future plans were laid,
twixt me and my fair island maid,
to wed one mid December morn.
Staying firm in our endeavour
we planned for a life together,
confronting all critical scorn!

Leaving behind our carefree days,
and forsaking our youthful ways,
we set out on our chosen adventure.
Though some said we were deceived
to think love would last, we believed,
it would prove a long lasting venture.

Surviving times of joy and tears,
love has flourished for sixty years.
Having overcome all tribulations
by boldly facing each new day:
supporting each other in every way,
we have good cause for celebrations!

Destiny decreed we would briefly meet,
then go full circle, before we’d complete
the loving twosome we remain today!
The Vows we made, when first wed,
remain as true today as when first said:
and will remain so, until our final day!

Rhymer.  February 26th, 2018.
The truth and nothing but the truth!

Let’s waltz
Into the light
Let the darkness
Chase us
We’re playing a game
Of hide and seek.

I love you and your bones
They’re so fragile
And I’m so stubborn
I’ll never hug you too hard.

The thread of fear
Has broken
We’re free of judgement
A twosome with fierceness
In our eyes.
The creative spark
I have in me
Has turned into fire
It will be lit forever.

I’m going praise you
Here goes
You’re such a believer
You’re such a hopeful character
A diamond in the rough
You’re like a rope
That holds our bond together.

This is a love story
That is louder than words
So we begin
Our journey
Of tranquillity.