Sadness, like a great weight
draws downward and your fate, although
not sealed, feels so.
And when you fall so low, nothing
can make your sad heart sing;
there’s no gladness to bring you hope,
only that downward slope.
No ambition; you mope around
clutching to this profound
sensation which confounds your mind
and it is then you find
just one way to unwind. You sleep.
The only way to keep
from going off the deep end, friend.
It’s in the very end
Your brain chooses to send a test.
Accept and do your best,
Or resign to deep rest, depressed.

FEBRUARY 3, 1956 – 10:42 A.M.

I was in no position to be born,
in the breech; feet first, a fresh “face”
coming to the fore on that frozen February morn.
Until then, my days on earth up to the day of my birth
were a placid float, suspended in muted serenity.
But, the anguish of my poor mother would serve
to provide shocks to propel me into action,
gaining traction in this field of my amniotic shield;
a permeable hideaway of liquidity.
But damn the masked man in white, he startles me;
a sharp slap sets my ass to flame and a tearful wail to my lips.


Written for THE SUNDAY WHIRL – Wordle #41


A man of words
the silver tongued devil
spellbinder with reminders
of all the things needed to say;
all the thing they want to hear.
A twist of the truth to
satisfy the curious, and
your conscience is furious
that you’d stoop to such lows.
A snake oil salesman with
a special on slick, take your pick
of which fork in the road you choose,
Monty, what’s behind door number two?
The lies flow downstream, taking
you deep into your deviancy,
and keeping you stuck in your station.
Another slippery diversion brought to you
by the darkest reaches of your soul.


Neither a lender,
nor a borrower be.
Such is the rule that’s fair
to keep friends friends,
and keep them from
vanishing into thin air.
A matter of trust gone awry,
suddenly too sly, they
avoid detection. On
closer inspection you
should have feigned broke
and it’s a running joke
that he’s already defaulted
on the loan, no shock, it
was a forgone conclusion when
the cash left your pocket.
And now his illusion is a
broad disappearance, do you
cut your losses, for a strict
adherence to the rule as so stated.
Neither a lender, or a borrower be,
the money slipped through my fingers,
when you failed to repay me.
Fool me once, shame on you…