Dark Side of the Moon Part Three

A STAR IS BORN…11-6-2001

I was thirty-four that year.

It was nineteen seventy-nine.

But it’s still clear because

I received a wonderful sign.

The sign arrived the tenth of July,

A six pound, delightful baby girl.

She gave me joy, made me proud,

And became my precious pearl.

I see her in my dreams at night.

I see her in the morning light.

I see her in the sun so bright.

I see her in the clouds so white.

She’s grown up now and gone afar,

I miss her dearly, every day.

I see her face in the North Star and

It makes her seem less far away.

We did magic shows, watched TV and movies, too.

We rode bikes, took hikes since she was five.

She loved so much our swimming pool.

I even taught her how to drive.

Continued

I’ve gotten older watching her grow,

But I’ve gotten much happier, too.

She loves me very much I know;

The kind of love earned by very few.

When we talk on the phone

She says she misses me.

Then I don’t feel so alone.

Those words make me happy.

I often wander down the hall,

And walk into her empty room.

Poems, pictures used to decorate the walls

But now blank walls and silent as a tomb.

But joyous memories still linger there,

Like a fluffy, white cloud,

Floating in that silent air,

Smiling over me and making me proud.

I love my precious daughter

More than the universe, above.

Such joy my life will hold,

As long as I have her love.

Note: Daddy loves you, Maragold.

NIGHT SKY BECKONING

12-17-01

Watching the stars at night,

wondering about suns so bright,

imagination running high and far,

fascinated by each brilliant star.

An infinite beauty is outer-space,

where constellations appear to pace,

and starlight flickers from afar,

like fireflies dancing on tar.

So small, insignificant is earth,

since the “big bang” gave it birth,

many billions of years ago,

in eternity’s explosive echo.

Constellations fill the night sky,

where ancient peoples gazed so high

and saw shapes, then stories told,

about mythical heroes, brave and bold.

I wish I could travel through space,

observing every sign and trace,

of comets, planets and suns,

and glimpse how the universe runs.

Traveling great distances and time,

leaving our miniature Milky-Way behind,

speeding ever deeper, so much to see,

marveling at the sights for eternity.

PROBLEM-FREE NEW YEAR

1-6-2002

I hope and wish the best for you,

For the whole New Year, 2002.

I know this gift will help you,

When next you use Super Glue.

So next time your fingers get stuck,

Just use this gift and you’re in luck.

Your long, slender fingers will come apart,

Bringing a joyful relief to your heart.

May all your problems fix with ease,

So you can laugh when I tease.

My love for you shall never quit,

I’m your Papa, your “Mr. Fix-it.”

I wish, I hope the very best for you,

And that your new year problems will be few.

NOTE: Mara accidentally Super-Glued her

fingers together, so I sent this poem to her

with a tube of Super-Glue remover as a prank.

DADDY LOVES YOU

1-7-2002

I treasure my precious daughter.

She’s worth much more than gold;

the jewel of my life,

and so precious to hold.

My daughter shines,

like a fiery, bright star,

a diamond on black velvet,

brightening my life from afar.

I never knew,

how happy I’d be,

that wonderful day,

she joined our family.

She came to me as

a small bundle of love,

and grew up to be,

my angel from above.

When I see my dear daughter,

I cannot help but glow.

She radiates such brightness,

like a beautiful rainbow.

When she was growing up,

and asleep in bed at night,

I’d whisper, “Daddy loves you.”

A father’s love at its height.

continued

She’s the brightest star in my dark sky,

like Sirius: beautiful, bright and bold,

shining down to light-up my life,

becoming my precious gift to hold.

So supremely special she is,

with a very special knack.

When I give her all my love,

she gives me her’s right back.

I miss my girl very much,

I think of her every day.

I hope she always knows,

my love will never go away.

When she lived at home,

my life seemed full and bright.

We did so many things for fun.

She was such a pure delight.

I know she needs a private life,

and from home the distance grows,

but I will always love my Maragold,

and that, I’m sure, she  knows.

DEPRESSION DAY

3-5-2002

Will he die alone,

Falling like a stone,

Sinking to the darkest depths

Of a black and frightening well?

Deeper, deeper he  plunges

In a cold, liquid coffin,

Gagging, chocking, suffocating.

No hands reaching out.

No support can save him.

No reprieve for him.

Images of his life flash by,

Hundreds with every foot he sinks.

He’s plunging downward faster,

It’s harder for him to breathe.

Hopelessness surrounds him.

His eyes glazed, vacant.

Limbs numb, no control,

Now all sensation gone,

He can’t think, feel, or breathe.

He hit the rocky bottom. Crash!

And died alone.

MEMORIES OF MARA

5-14-02

 

I once had a charming girl.

Such a pretty, little girl.

Who would take my hand,

And walk with me.

She’d smile and skip,

Laugh and ask questions.

She’d sit on my lap

When I had a snack.

She’d rush to my side

To watch a TV show.

She’d practice magic with me,

Be my assistant during magic shows.

We’d play in the magic room.

“Smell my socks,” she’d say. YUCK!

Or ride me like a horse named Sasha.

She loved going to a movie,

Then to Pizza Hut.

Her smile was so lovely

That it made my world shine

Brighter than it had ever

Shined before or ever will again.

I could look at a blade of grass,

Or the beautiful, bright, warm sun,

Or fluffy, pure white clouds,

Or an amazingly brilliant rainbow,

Or at the wonder of shining stars,

Or even the mysterious reflections

from a single drop of rain,

And see her face, her smile, her love

Somewhere in the shape of each.

Continued

I’d take her to the park,

Ride the merry-go-round and slide,

Or push her on a swing

As she tried to touch the trees or clouds

With her small, delicate hand.

Then I’d hear her delightful giggle,

And see her big, glowing smile

That warmed my heart,

And brightened my days

Far better than the sun could ever do.

I taught her to ride a bicycle.

We’d ride our bikes and

Stop for soda or ice cream.

I taught her how to bat and

How to catch a softball

With her new baseball glove.

Oh, how she loved

The basketball area I built

For her in the driveway.

We played games of “horse” and “pig,”

Or just shot foul shots.

I can still hear her heart-warming laughter,

And feel the joy of being with her.

Teaching her how to drive

Was not at all a chore.

We both couldn’t wait to get in the car.

The first driver’s test did not go well,

But I told her mine was also bad.

It cheered her up and she knew,

That more practice was needed.

Continued

The second test went really well,

In spite of the car’s gas-line leak

That we kept secret

And laughed about later.

She passed the test,

And off to Ponderosa we went

To eat and celebrate her great victory.

Then came her waitressing job.

I gave her my old, maroon,

Dodge Aries car.

Then she saved her money,

And bought a blue Buick.

I could see in her smile

That she felt as free as a butterfly,

And I was happy for her

Though I knew she’d soon fly away.

She starred in her

High school play, called “Annie.”

What a wonderful actress,

She made her parents so damn proud.

She was the main talk around town

For weeks after that,

And strangers would approach me,

Congratulate me on her brilliance,

As if I had anything to do with it.

But I was proud and accepted

The praise and recognition for her.

Continued

Then off to college.

My heart ached terribly.

My precious bird left our nest.

The nest I worked so hard

To build for her,

To make her comfortable,

To surround her with love.

The one who was most saddened

By her “off-to-college” departure

Was me, but I did my best

To hide the great sadness

Of losing my daughter.

I knew she had to go

To be independent; to find another man.

The world was beckoning her

So off she went, excitedly.

I’m happy for her,

And sad for me.

But she left me with thousands

Of wonderful, special memories

All about the fun we had and

The adventures that we took, plus

Other delightful times we were together and

Most of all, the love we shared side by side.

Daddy loves his Maragold.

DARKNESS

6-9-2002

Hello Darkness, my ancient friend.

You’ve come to visit me again.

So many times you’ve come to me,

With your wrinkled hand extended,

Hoping to take me on that final journey.

I’ve shaken that strong, hot hand,

Unafraid, for our friendship seems grand,

But I’ve had to refuse that fiery trek,

Though many times I’ve wanted to go.

But there are two that need me,

Their lives mean more to me than my own,

And their love trumps your wishes.

So I keep postponing our inevitable trip,

To your vast land of mysterious darkness.

That darkness which even brave men fear,

But that I wish to see, and fear not.

Don’t be impatient my sinister friend.

Please, come and visit me again.

I’m waiting for you and some day you can,

Take my hand and we will journey together.

Your long, black cloak and shadowy hood,

Conceal your ancient face so well,

But your ember eyes I see,

As red and hot as your hellfire,

But comforting to a frozen soul.

Continued

I look at you and wonder,

Why is it that I see you as

A friend and not as an enemy?

Why do your eyes seem to glow with

Warmth and intelligence?

Why is your ebony countenance such

An object of fear and loathing?

Your outstretched hand is soft and gentle,

Warm, inviting, but not commanding,

And yet I know there is incredible

Strength there, like an iron vice,

But you have not used any force.

Why does my mind see our

Journey as a trip to paradise?

Can so many people be

So very wrong about you?

Or is it just me that sees

Any good in you?

Yes, one day I will go with you

On the smooth obsidian path,

Into the welcoming darkness of eternity.

I do not fear that darkness,

Rather, I see it as a friend,

Comforting me with a blanket

On a cold winter day.

I will enjoy your dark realm,

Especially the black sky that’s

So filled with jewels of sparkling light,

Like billions of shining diamonds

Continued

Thrown upon a black, velvet cloth,

Each with its own bright story to tell,

Of how it came to be and how it would end.

So when the time arrives, Old Friend,

Take me to my favorite star, Polaris,

The one I watch at night, due north,

The one that seems to pull me greatly,

And let my eyes see all my loved ones,

Especially my wife and daughter,

And then let me add,

My crescent smile to the

Celestial darkness that is my destiny.

Stay well, Old Friend, stay well.

SANDY AND MARA

7-23-2002

Over the years I’ve said,

“I love you,” thousands of times,

But I’ve whispered those words

And thoughts millions of times.

Those words float through our home

Like invisible vapor,

Saturating it with love.

Imagine a world without color

And having a home without love,

A dark, dreary place, like a cold, damp cave,

A rudimentary shelter, but not a home.

Our home was so full of love,

Three generous people

With affection for each other and

The love growing with each passing year

Like a sapling maturing into a mighty oak.

Precious memories,

Like ghosts, occupy the rooms.

Each room has its own

Memories that are stimulated by

The feelings, sights, sounds

Of our love for each other.

PARENTAL LOVE

8-1-02

A very strong bond,

A bond of affection,

Of sincere caring and concern,

Of genuine kindness and love.

The father and the mother

Watch their precious child grow,

Teach her what she needs to know,

Then sadly watch her go.

But though she’s miles away,

She is close, in her parent’s hearts.

They are so very proud and

Full of admiration and love for her.

When she is happy, so are they,

When she is sad, so are they

Because when you truly love someone

You share their feeling too.

She will always be loved.

She will always be missed.

She always has our best wishes,

And we will always be there for her.

Our wonderful little girl of the past,

Now our loved young woman,

Always loved; always in our hearts.

Continued

THE SUN…8-6-2002

Sandy is the sun,

A bright star in my eyes,

A comforting light,

Giving me warmth and energy.

I am the earth

That the sun nourishes,

Helping it to grow, flourish,

Becoming better, stronger.

The sun is my center, my focus,

The hub of my life’s orbit,

My all-important compass,

Keeping me on the right path.

I revolve and I rotate.

It’s how I dance with the sun,

As I travel my road of life

Around my bright, shining star.

Without the sun’s gravitational pull

The earth would wander into space,

Unstable and without direction,

Just a giant, aimless meteor

Speeding through space until

Reaching its destiny: self-annihilation.

ATTRITION OF A HERO

8-8-2002

She looks at her dad

With sparkling, loving eyes,

And sees her hero and protector.

She sees him as handsome,

No matter what others think.

She knows he is strong

Because he picks her up so easily.

She knows he is tough

When she sees him practice martial arts.

And she knows he’s smart

Because he has much knowledge.

And her hero of so many years is

Tall and sturdy as a mature oak.

He was also much funnier than

All of her friends’ fathers.

She sees all these glorious traits

When her dad is young and active.

But as she grows, her daddy slows.

She sees her dad getting very sad.

She sees what he feels now

As age pulls at his face and body

Weakening those once strong muscles,

While his toughness slowly wanes.

And he forgets so many things.

Continued

As she grows, she notices that,

Her dad doesn’t seem to be as tall,

Nor does his walking seem quite as sturdy.

Then she notices more sadness in him

Because he sees and feels those things,

The physical and mental attrition,

That time is stealing from his athletic body.

What a shame that her hero’s

Handsome face sags and wrinkles abound.

His strength continues to fade and

His toughness erodes with time and

His smartness wears away and

His tallness shrinks from a compressed spine,

While sturdiness declines with worn-out knees.

All this physical and mental

Attrition, with age, is not at all funny.

So who would blame a daughter’s hero

For losing his sense of humor

When even his funny-bone is arthritic.

My daughter, my dearest,

I know that you know,

How much I loved you,

And strong or weak,

Smart or dull,

Strong or frail,

Tall or short,

Until it’s time for me to go,

I have loved being your hero.

DEAREST DAUGHTER

8-30-02

When you still care about others,

while friends say you care too much;

When your love is honest and loyal,

though your heart has been broken

by those who are dishonest and disloyal;

When you can still dream, wish and strive

for wonderful things, even though others say that

what you want is impossible or impractical;

When you still set your goals high

in spite of the doubts and discouragement

of others who don’t know you well;

When you can compassionately forgive

your parents, relatives and friends

for the wrongs they may have done

or said to you;

When you can look in the mirror

and genuinely smile at the beautiful

face that looks back at you;

Continued

When you can understand and empathize

with someone’s anger at you;

try to set things right,

and not return any anger at them;

When you discover that your true character

is based on what you do after a defeat or a set-back,

and not what you do after all your successes;

When you can triumph over your own

self-doubt, disillusionment and depression;

When you can measure love and respect

with a yardstick of deeds, not words;

When you can remain calm, quiet and rational

while those around you are in a frenzy

of babbling, bombastic noises and actions;

When you realize that your parents valued

you far above everything else in their lives;

When you stop feeling guilty about not being

perfect and just learn from your mistakes;

When you can release those boulder-sized guilts

and fears; letting them dissolve to tiny grains of sand;

When you recognize that perseverance and

persistence lead to success and happiness

more often than pure, raw talent.

Continued

When you understand that it is sometimes

necessary to put the needs of your loved-ones

ahead of your own desires;

When you can see that courage

is not the absence of fear,

but rather the control of fear;

When you can do just half of these deeds,

you will be a respected, admired and a happy person,

plus your Dad will know that when he has to

leave this world, he is leaving a much

better model of himself to take his place.

And when you look up into the night sky, find the

North Star, and whisper, “I love you Daddy,”

you will hear me whispering back,

“I love you, too, Maragold. Forever and ever.”

SANDPAPER MAN

9-13-02

I am currently traveling

On the downhill side of life.

And those years were like

Sandpaper wearing me down

From a strong, tall oak tree

To a pile of saw-dust, and now

I AM THE SANDPAPER MAN.

I was once like a rugged mountain.

I am now a soft, grassy knoll.

Time has eroded my toughness, and now

I AM THE SANDPAPER MAN.

I could once soar like an eagle.

Now I am a fragile sparrow.

Time drained and buckled me.

Time batters, weakens, and cripples.

It strips away youth, strength, pride and now,

I AM THE SANDPAPER MAN.

Time races by unnoticed, in youth,

But the older I become,

The faster it seems to race by.

I feel slower, weaker, duller,

As I sluggishly wear out, and now

I AM THE SANDPAPER MAN.

Continued

Time rubs you wrong,

It wears you down.

It grinds your hard bones,

Saps your strength,

Weakens all your senses, and now

I AM THE SANDPAPER MAN.

To struggle against time

Is a futile waste of more time.

You can hope for the best,

And get plenty of rest

To aid in the useless struggle

That has the same ending, and now

I AM THE SANDPAPER MAN.

My end is in sight,

But I worry not for me.

I worry for my wonderful wife and

My dearest, darling daughter,

Both so precious to me.

If I could bargain with Time

I’d bargain for them, not me, but now

I AM THE SANDPAPER MAN.

Time drags on in youth.

Time races when you’re old.

A time for everything good and bad.

A time for happiness; a time for tears.

A time to smile; a time to frown.

A time to swim; a time to drown.

A time to live and a time to die.

NOW THE SANDPAPER MAN,

IN HIS COFFIN, MUST LIE.

TRISH…9-25-02

She came to us one wonderful day,

Jumping, barking and wanting to play,

Filling our hearts with joy and love,

Fitting into our family like a comfortable glove.

Small, she was supposed to be,

But month by month we could see,

Our wonderful collie, big did grow,

Though it happened so very slow.

A puppy with energy so great,

She’d beg to play and could not wait,

She’d pull a rope and chase a ball,

That rolled or bounced down the hall.

She’d put her muzzle in your lap,

Her soft eyes would capture you like a trap,

But a trap that loved you so very dear,

And was always glad that you were near.

To Grandma’s house she loved to go,

She read our minds; somehow she’d know,

Whenever traveling was in our plan,

Towards the door she quickly ran.

Oh, how dear she came to be,

Like another sweet girl in our family,

Growing up came much too fast,

Leaving loving memories of the past.

Continue

Remember how she roamed our yard?

On patrol like a security guard,

Around, around the fence she’d pass,

Wearing a path in the yard’s green grass.

How and when did she get so old?

Acting sad and sick instead of bold,

Age for pets is cruel and mean,

When you’re old, but only thirteen.

She gave us more than we gave her,

Love and friendship; she was no cur,

But, to me, a queen and royalty,

A friend with great loyalty.

And now my royal, loyal friend,

Has reached life’s unforgiving end,

But Trish will live and always be,

Alive and happy in my loving memory.

MY WIFE AND DAUGHTER

9-26-02

My love for the both is immortal,

And when my physical and

Mental abilities perish to a mortal’s end,

The spirit of my everlasting love

Will always surround them,

Just as my loving arms would do

If I were alive and hugging them.

If they feel a slight breeze,

It’s me brushing against them.

If they hear a familiar sound,

It’s me singing my love to them.

Whenever they feel

The sun on their faces,

It’s my warm hand caressing them.

They are the two greatest

Loves of my entire life.

I would be a far lesser man

Without them and their love for me.

Their influence, love and friendship

Put me on a path, far different,

And much better, than the path

I may have traveled without them.

BLUE MAN

10-7-02

One man standing against the hordes

Of years that are swiftly rushing by,

Attacking him, pummeling him,

Sapping his strength, cutting him down.

Yet he remains standing,

Though he staggers, as tears burn

A scorching trail from eyes to jaw.

And yet, somehow, he keeps

Staggering forward, hoping,

Wiping tears from his cheeks,

Reluctantly looking into his

Own personal, dark abyss,

His eyes trying to penetrate the

Thick blackness of that void.

His sadness, like glass slivers

Slicing through his eyes,

Then into his brain,

Cutting hope out of him.

He hears echoes of happiness

From his youthful years,

But the future is unseen, unknown,

As the present seems sad, hopeless.

And all around him

A veiled battle rages on.

Continued

Not allowing himself to live in the past,

Nor propelling him to the future,

He ties himself to the present,

In a sad, tight tangle of

Abrasive ropes and Gordian knots.

Life was a harsh lesson learned,

As his stomach violently churned,

And his brain painfully turned,

While his lonely heart burned.

Once again he hopefully yearned,

To forget all those times spurned,

As more tears sear his eyes and cheek,

As he staggers on legs so weak.

He is trapped in a frozen, blue room,

At the end of a forbidding,

Coiling maze of serpentine tunnels,

That lie deeply inside the earth

Beneath a remote, unapproachable mountain,

That lies at the bottom of the deepest blue ocean.

His frigid guts coiled like barbed wire,

Poke angry holes that leak venom,

Contaminating his actions,

Tainting his dripping, blood-red words.

Continued

And those he loved so much,

And those he thought loved him,

Now turn their righteous backs,

Giving priority to lesser things,

And showing him how superficial

Their love for him really was.

Yet he truly loved them deeply,

Making his pain more unbearable.

He’s tired, so breathlessly tired.

Tired of all the pain and torment,

Tired of the unfathomable sadness,

Tired of the constant fight to survive,

Tired of the seemingly false love for him

Tired of himself and his weaknesses.

Now he contemplates death

By his own icy hands,

Bringing the end to all his pain,

The end to his hopelessness,

The end to his life of grief,

Where peace and lack of sadness

Are the two alluring arms of death

That welcome him with open arms,

And forever grasp him tightly.

NOT ENOUGH

10-14-02

I’M TIRED.I

Tired of depression dominating my life.

There’s not enough happiness

To outweigh the heavy sadness,

And not enough bright light

To chase away the overpowering darkness,

Not enough goodness

To block the razor sharp spears of guilt,

Not enough tranquility

To blunt the jagged shards of stress,

Not enough lucid reasoning

To repel the encroaching madness,

Not enough silence

To dampen life’s blaring noises,

Not enough independence

To relieve a career’s smothering conformity,

Not enough healing love

To salve the scalding self-hatred,

Not enough youthful strength remaining

To overcome elderly weaknesses,

Not enough refreshing truth

To blow away the stench of lies,

Not enough forgiveness

To erase past sins,

Not enough blissful rest

To thwart the constant tiredness.

Not enough life or desire left

To keep the banshees from my door.

NOT ENOUGH!

FORTRESS…10-22-02

If  only my mind was an unassailable fortress,

With a massive iron gateway,

Preceded by deep, wide,

Double moats that could only be traversed,

Over booby-trapped drawbridges.

My fortress would have,

Four tall, impregnable towers

At each  corner for

Advanced warning, repelling, and defeating

The assaulting forces of:

Depression, stress, dissatisfaction,

Forgetfulness, hopelessness and age.

And each heavily barred window would

Have bat-winged iron shutters

To protect me from flying objects

Of destruction like:

The arrows of anger,

The spears of stress,

The lances of hatred, and

The catapulting boulders

Of shattering hopelessness.

My fortress would also protect me from:

The battle axes of my past sins, from

The maces of unresolved guilt, from

The slashing swords of underachievement, and

The battering rams of self-loathing.

Continued

It would be a mental fortress so strong,

That neither moats, nor gateway,

Nor walls or windows could be breached,

And any tunnels could be easily flooded.

And within my fortress,

Tranquility, peace, happiness,

Satisfaction and hope would reside,

And where depression would only mean,

An area of slightly lower ground.

And finally, the core of my mental fortress

Would be like a castle-keep, unassailable;

The strongest, safest, most secure part

With a secret exit which would be a

Hopeless conundrum to everyone but me.

SUGAR DADDY…10-25-02

When he was young, he was strong,

It seemed that nothing could go wrong.

School was easy and sports were great,

And too young to worry about a mate or fate.

Important was his home and friends and car,

Thinking of now and not the future far.

He couldn’t wait for years to pass,

He wanted to grow up much too fast.

All those years quickly by did slip,

But he was too focused to enjoy the trip.

His youth escaped like a beautiful sad song,

That you strain to hear, but then it’s gone.

When older, he met a woman, went on a date,

Two years later she became his mate.

Seven happy years later, he really struck gold,

His wife delivers a baby girl for him to hold.

Suddenly time grew long, sleek wings,

And traveled faster than ordinary things.

Years slipped by with the wink of an eye,

His girl grew up and said good-bye.

He used to say, “I think I can.  I think I can,”

Till he looked in a mirror and saw an old man.

His face showed all those years,

Though blurred by his sad tears.

Now life seemed withered, dry and hollow,

It used to be candy, but now hard to swallow.

Life used to be a sweet sugar cube,

But his mirror showed a simple, sad rube.

Sugar Daddy’s life is hot water down the tube,

Now he’s a dissolving sugar cube.

THE WALL

10-28-02

Tall and straight and newly built,

A sturdy foundation without any tilt.

No cracks in its youthful face,

A proud monument to style and grace.

Shiny and smooth in the morning sun,

Life seemed delightful, playful and fun.

Not very long since the wall was born,

Weathering a storm without looking worn.

So quickly time passes; too many years,

The wall starts to weaken as old age nears.

So long ago that wall was built,

Now stress has caused this wall to tilt.

No longer sturdy and straight,

Its aches and pains never seem to abate.

Cracks, like deep wrinkles, deface the wall,

It’s style and grace begin to fall.

No longer tall, nor shiny, but rather dull,

No longer happy and feeling quite null.

No longer facing storms without looking worn,

As chips fall off and old mortar is torn.

People are born like that sturdy wall,

But age weakens them for that final great fall.

A PRETTY FACE

11-9-2002

There’s no greater weapon

Than a pretty face,

To lead a man

Down the path of disgrace.

A pretty face is

The world’s best tool,

To change a proud man

To a silly fool.

What good might have come

By taking another direction,

Instead of the easy choices

That satisfy an erection.

Nations and great empires

Built and destroyed by sex,

Pretty faces and genitalia,

Sent to man to vex.

Men act so tough,

Controlling the money,

But women control the men

With their sexual honey.

DARK  CLOUDS

11-13-2002

My mind is a dark cloud,

My tears are the rain.

The sun seldom shines,

As clouds dominate my days.

Gloomy clouds, an approaching storms,

Tears still falling like rain,

On thundering mental pain,

A lightning induced migraine,

Stress, anger, frustration and strain.

Where has that bright, warm sun gone?

Will the sun break through

Those ever-present and ominous clouds

That hang over me; that follow me?

My days grow short,

Each day less sun,

And more sinister clouds,

With storms on the horizon.

What will happen to me,

And to the two I love most,

When I falter and grow weak?

I feel a strong wind upon my cheek,

The first symptom of a raging storm.

Will I weather that storm?

Will I be cast about and broken

With pieces of me scattered,

Like a piece of driftwood in a turbulent sea?

HALCYON DAYS GONE

11-25-02

HALCYON DAYS GONE

11-25-02

I miss the bright birds’

Cheerful morning songs.

They sooth my stressful days

That have become much too long.

I miss those halcyon days

When I was young and strong,

And believed with a naive heart

That nothing would go wrong.

Now I stagger rather sadly

Down life’s rocky, one-way street.

A dead-end not far ahead and

I’m feeling old, useless and beat.

Youth and happiness have withered

After too many years gone by,

And all that seems left to do now

Is cry, then lie down and die.

Youth and happiness are very short,

Life is not very long,

And when you’re old, you realize

Life belongs to the young and strong.

Continued

My life has become sad,

But the saddest thoughts of my life,

After too many years gone by,

Is to cry, then lie down and die.

Life is not very long,

Life belongs to the young and strong.

The most disturbing thoughts in my life,

Are those dealing with my death and

Leaving my dearest daughter and wife.

I’ve traveled down life’s bumpy road

And now I approach the end.

I look back at my wife and daughter.

To them, all my love I send.