i am many things
i am nothing

a human heart beating
feeling desire
feeling death creeping
closer than before
taking souls
names ring out
echo
become quiet

evil our demise
love continues

~nmd

i see what will be a picture. if you see it and the image catches your attention, you have your own meaning, story, thoughts. what you see evokes a feeling, thought, memory. what becomes of the things it evokes?

rise up your head
outa sleep
and all the fog of want
those
sorry ghosts
be gone
there is this
now
knockin’
askin you to
open your eyes to the day
kick worry in the piddley ass
tell it to
go-da the dogs
cause things
gonna be fine

one tree of crisp sycamore leaves
a small-town street
wind mixing-up a symphony
a delicious aroma of sound
careful not to burn-nan

there she stands
at the end of the land
thirty trips around the sun
plus two
she has come
to this place
looking for the
darkest blackberry
of july

look at my past

the past of my father

the past my mother

methodist england wales

catholic germany

small towns

southern illinois

man marries

and goes into the air force

the woman

no one talked about

didn’t wait

he marries again

a catholic girl

her father would not have it

the family disowned her

my mother

how could they

when i was young

we visited her mother

her father in a wheelchair

thin

weak

silent

grandma gave me

butter and sugar on bread

she had a german accent

she was sweeter than pie

(thirty four years and july means blueberries)

divorce and your new life in marriage did not erase our past.
though it changed the future.

our memories. the goodness that was also ours.
i remember everything

cheers from across the room
i will never run out of kisses
i love you written on my back with your finger

bow nights
concerts
biscuits and cornbread
denny road boys
running to the phone with only a towel
champagne
christmas carols
driving icy roads
wedding
babies
ducks
the year of the flood and Casey
taking Sydney everywhere
my mental depression
missing being loved
wondering why you stopped loving me
not being what you wanted or needed
still loving you
building a house
resentment
home
work then wine making
kids and school
grocery shopping
hand-washing dishes
family
your friends

i am not glad to be rid of you
but i am grateful that you are happy

i would like to see you now and then

if i could visit i would love to
i know that she would not understand
wives rarely do
thinking they will lose love

but i know she will never loose your love and respect
she never did

too bad she doesn’t realize this

i have my dreams

people find sin in loving more than one person…
there is the two headed monster called jealousy and fear

i try to ignore this terrible monster
because it is not love

life is very amazing
and quite strange

ego and others
me and we
money and greed
love
home
need

https://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=L21Tc_DtL6M

🌈

How do you think about yourself? I am a person, in accordance with other people, out of my own personality, and from things that I find to be interesting. Quite late in life, fairly lately that is, I found that I don’t necessarily have any control over what people think of me, no matter what I do. Just imagine. But mostly there are very few that even think of me at all.

I am thinking that people need to label and sort to be able to communicate. But labels can be a general thing. And labels are as different as each perspective.

have you ever tried to hold on
to something
that seems like a dream

with just enough reality
that you hang in that space
seldom landing

is this something
ever enough

?

i pick it up
look at it
check for the message
write thoughts
listen
there is music
and books to hear
write thoughts
i could look
at this all
of my life
it is my life line
with no line
an invisible connection
my fingers touch
the glass
it lights up
my light my companion
i look at it
everything else
a blur

The news is like a compost pile.

New layers atop the old.

Forgetting what we’ve been told.

The garden grows.