poemetry

some lives are not to be mourned,
having been lived so well as to demand 
celebration & joy
even as we lose
their presence among us….

how sadly sad
that people
what ought
to know better
because i….

at my age,
death is something
that grows
more & more likely
with each passing day.

my upstairs neighbors
woke me at 5:30 am
by running their washing machine,
which is right over my room.
as i lay in bed….

my body
is doing
all it can
to get me
to take seriously….

life is precious.
short, easily ended,
awful at times
yet so amazing,
so wonderful….

mornings, when i wake,
the first parts of my mind
to kick into gear,
and then try to kick my butt,
are the anxieties, doubts, fears….

i just love it
when a plan
comes together.
an intention fulfilled
is a great feeling….

everything everywhere
is spinning & circling:
galaxies
stars
planets….

there is no magic
in this sad world
; my wishes
never come true.
i am forced….

despite the parties and fireworks
and all the other foofaroo,
new years day
is just another morning
in another year….

the dream
wakes me
and lets me
remember,
lets me….

should i do this
(i want to do this)
or should i do that
(i want to do that)
so of course….

i am so afraid
of live
my own life,
even though
that life….

the purpose of life
is to survive
and create new life
to follow after you,
surviving and creating….