Songs

Careful one means cautious two for you.

So much to chat about but not the will to

Chat. How was yours? Mine was fine.

Hope you are well. Being well is half the

Battle. Sometimes soft, soothing songs.

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Full Circle

Knowledge sex intertwine exchange

Merely showing off catch cling walk

Togetherness ideas dreams whisper

Calling grown up respect beliefs wait

Yelling expression argument curse

Bend Your Knees!

Do you wonder how I feel?

I want to curl up in a ball.

Go to sleep and never wake up,

Except I don’t live in a vacuum.

There are family and friends,

My wife, of course,

At the top of the list.

If I left the state of things

Would be grim, full of sin,

And everything.

You look so thin!

You look so nothing,

So drab, so flat.

You look like you’re losing

All your fat!

You are mine and I am yours.

Made for each other

In heaven, by George.

We’ll go out together

Or maybe you first.

That’s the way you want it,

On earth.

I don’t know what I’d do

With myself.

Wrestle dust balls from the shelf.

There’s much to look forward to

In this life.

But I can’t remember

Any but strife.

There’s much to hope for,

Much to dream,

But all I want to do

Is scream.

We’ll make it.

Don’t you worry.

There’ll be lots of fun and flurry.

We will gather all around.

We won’t stop for any sound.

Come with me to the holy gate.

Promise I won’t be irate.

We’ll enjoy your company.

We’ll be sure to bend our knees,

Jumping off the side of the boat,

In the castle’s shallow moat.

Making Peace

Miles of smiles cramp my style.

I sing because I’m drunk, I say.

Nothing to worry about.

The same old message, coming clean.

The same old, same old everything.

Can you tell I’d rather be there?

Can you see the when and the where?

I care about her much,

All her loved ones and such.

I am just not in synch.

I’m trailing badly. That’s what I think.

If you’ve got a bit of luck,

You can help me get unstuck.

If you think that there is hope

I’ll be gliding down a slope.

I will trust the good God’s keeping.

You won’t catch me if I’m weeping.

I’ll make sure there is a gift.

It’s such a thrill. My face will lift.

We’ll provide a settlement.

Would you like a candy spearmint?

Happy

Happy knowledge spins a carriage.

Pumpkin cheeks smile upon you.

Loving words and soothing touches

Caress the soft skin and feed if hungry.

Watch him grow he’s getting so big!

Nothing but a joy to live.

Rocking chair gets lots of use.

Writing poems for your new muse.

Happy, yes, happy, yes, happy.

So True

Moving towards you, in a roundabout

Sort of way. I feel the weight of my fear.

No, Mom and Dad didn’t tell me how to

Speak confidently, converse about things

Like interests and hobbies, to discuss the

Issues of the day. So, what is important

To you? I want to know, so true.

Summertime (ch. 3)

A garden shed
Image via Wikipedia

Stephen was glad that it was summertime.  Although he was smart enough for his classes, he always wanted to do things differently
than his teachers told him to do, so his grades were pretty low.  Also, sometimes the music in his head would distract him to the point that he couldn’t concentrate on anything.  When the music started, his mind was enraptured, totally held captive.  It was like a physical journey that took exertion and stamina.  But Stephen was not in control, he just had
to keep up.  Otherwise, he was dragged along in utter confusion.  If he paid attention to it, it led him to some interesting places.  And he got some of his best ideas after listening to the music.  He had talent,
it just didn’t fit in with the syllabus, or even the curriculum.

 

After mowing the lawn, Stephen decided to take a ride on his bike.  His dad made sure he always kept his bike in the shed in the back yard so it wouldn’t be as tempting to be stolen.  So, Stephen headed out the back door and into the back yard.  Luckily, his dad didn’t keep the shed locked, so Stephen opened the door without any trouble.  But then came the trick, because that shed was stuffed so full of “junk”, mostly woodworking tools and materials, that getting to Stephen’s bike hanging on the wall was always an effort.  Stephen had one thing in his favor, he was very tall for his age of fourteen.  With a little stretching and bending, he grabbed his bike and pulled it up and over all the junk.  Then he was on his way out of the shed, across the back yard, and through the gate.  All he had to do then was cross the front
yard.  He approached the street while looking both ways, hopped on his bike, and took off down the edge of the street as fast as he could.

Wild Solutions (ch. 2)

Second family of solutions for the concentric ...
Image via Wikipedia

Stephen felt his feet getting a bit too hot and realized he had been walking a long time.  His turn toward painful memories had given him an even worse headache, and he decided to head back home. When he walked up the path to his door, his mother met him there and made a

crinched-up face before whining, “I told you yesterday that you were to mow the lawn today, and it’s getting hotter by the minute!” Stephen

wasn’t worried. Little things like this he could take in stride.  He said calmly”No problem, Mom, I’ll get right on it. I just need to change clothes.” His mom was satisfied and Stephen headed inside and down the hall to his room.

”My room,” Stephen thought, “the one place I can be myself.” Stephen looked up above his meager bed to what was tacked up on the wall above it: Plans. Plans to solve some pretty heady problems.

but it wasn’t just the problems. It was the solutions, the wild solutions!

Family Friction

Picture of graves decorated with flags at Arli...
Image via Wikipedia

Two of a kind,

One that used to be,

And one that is now.

Time in a flip,

The old are young,

And the young are mature.

 

Then, darkness falls.

A deep depression and

A bit of dementia.

 

I tried to barricade

Myself in a room

In your house,

But it was your room,

Your house.

 

I had become an outsider.

We had grown apart.

The jolly trickster that

Was my grandfather

Had become an unhappy

Old man.

And I had hit a wall,

Fallen into a deep pit.

 

We butted heads

Until we made it home.

To the end, you were true.

And I would not appreciate

Your love and loyalty

For many years, long

Past your time to die.

 

As I sat in the car,

Listening to the 21-gun

Salute, I remembered

The stories you used to

Tell me about the war.

 

And I realized that time

Had taken its toll on a

Wonderful man, a man

That provided for a wife

And family and then

For another generation of

Five grandsons, all of whom

Adored you.

 

I know that despite

Our differences, you look

Down on me from

Heaven…and smile.

Rewind and Undo

Divorce symbol in genogram
Image via Wikipedia

In my head I paint a picture

Of some day walking free.

All my hang-ups and delusions

Laying in a pile behind me.

 

In my head I paint a picture

Of no more medication.

No more need to medicate

No more side-effects.

 

In my head I paint a picture

Of family bonds and closeness

No more driving forever to get there.

No more procrastinating that phone call.

 

In my head I paint a picture

Of what my family might have been

Had love and understanding been the rule

Instead of fear and loathing.

 

In my head I paint a picture

Of foolish decisions unmade.

Broken relationships mended.

Hurtful words unsaid.

 

In my head I paint a picture

Of all the things that I regret

Somehow never happening

And I can sleep better after that.

 

 

 

Carry on Tuesday #115