In a few years, I would be dead, a memory in some data bank, possibly even erased, to make room for those still alive.

The sky was gray; overcast, as I walked the two miles from my house to the beach, the wind hitting my face hard.

“Lyle?” a voice crept from my memories; July 12th, two years, maybe three years ago, I was seventeen, Aunt Tilda was dying; I couldn’t see her then, there at the hospital.

My mother was dying too, both of cancer. I tried to see them but I couldn’t, I was sick, the flu, I think, my father let me peek at them through the window of their rooms. Both laughed and waved.

I waved back.

When I die, I hope there is someone there to wave at me; a small glimmer of hope before the end.

I wrote a letter to mother; father gave it to her, please come home, I will make Chester pudding for you and father.

She never came home; died on the 20th of July.

Aunt Tilda on the 21st.

I sat there on the beach.

I did not think about death as the waves crashed to the shore.

I thought about life.

It was a good day.

LOVE: A Poem

Posted: March 22, 2022 in love
Tags: , , ,

Ever knew love,
You would find your love’s hubby,
A new job?

Ever knew love,
To the point,
You would give up your current love?

I have and will do it again!!

To the day, I shall see her face,
To feel her body against mine,
To hear her scream my name,
In Blasphemy!!

She is mine forever,
A love I shall never find,
I shall never know her touch!!

We flew,
To touch the sky,
To go where no one could touch us,
To bring us down,
To fly,
To sing,
Upon gilded wings,
We flew,
To find ourselves,
Among the clouds,
We saw,
The Heaven’s angels,
Singing to us,
As our wings brought us,
To that bliss,
Among the clouds,
So high above,
To softly drift,
Our life was ours,
To do as we wished,
To fly,
Dear ones,
To fly.

Mock bums, living life, in the eyes of social media stars,
Look towards the world; bright eyes dulled by reality,
Hard life, out there,
Going up,
Into made up names,
Swimming through broken lanterns,
I see impurity,
Beneath the sacred Church,
Called television,
Mother doesn’t know,
She doesn’t care,
She been dead a long time ago,
Cars honking,
God is on the street,
Pretending,
He is one of us,
Near the King of Neon,
Flashing threats,
Stop,
Roll,
The streets are dying,
Old hotels burning to the ground,
A toothless hag,
Her name is France.

Joey is dying,
Half past three,
Free,
Thrown in the garbage can,
Crawling out from our warm sacks,
Everyone is dying,
Minute by minute,
Hour to days,
Good night sweet night,
See you tomorrow!

Why do some loves fade away,
And others grow intense?
Why do some fools,
Who fall in love,
Fall from grace,
While others,
Love beyond the grave?

Somewhere in that book of love,
Please tell me why,
Oh dearly why,
These rules of love,
So I may feel that dear embrace!

Sunday March 6th, 2022 (originally written) PART ONE

Run Jesus! Them peeps wanna eatcha? Inside my head as I sat in church with my lady love; Amber.

It was a social project gone wrong.

There were bats here, buzzing around me, “My name is babble babble fart face!”

It was madness.

The rest of the Church sat and stared at me, wondering why I was there.

Didn’t they see the bats flying overhead?

We were led into the worship.

Oh father in Holy Rome please forgive me for forsaking Catholic Jesus for Methodists Jesus.

It’ll never happen again.

They tried to hand me some crackers, a grape in a baggie. I knew a Fed set up, I’ve seen Good Fellas.

I blacked out at Good morning.

This was too much to handle.

The red tail donkey was speaking.

No one else seemed shock.

But apparently, they had never seen a grown man scream out “waffles! I was promised waffles!”

And kids that’s why we can never go back to Holy Pine Resin, in Puddle Rock, South Dakota!!

Sunday March 6th, 2022 (originally written) PART TWO

Photo by Alena Darmel on Pexels.com

The best time to attend church is just when “the meds” are kicking in. As the ghouls begin to feast on the body and blood of their savior, you begin to realize that the world is going to be okay.

The pastor begins to compare her being lost with her husband for 6 hours up in the woods to that of Jesus, who is literally being devoured by his followers.

I say amen as the teleprompter tells us.

The pastor is reading a script the entire time.

I begin to think I need more meds.

The dare to be weird crowd are sitting across the aisle.

“Hi my name is Dave, it sure is nice weather we’re having, right?”

I smile, nod, say something, maybe yes, I don’t know, my mouth isn’t moving, the natives know, I’m high, oh Jesus, I’m high as a kite right now.

Maybe I’m not.

Maybe I just think I’m high.

It’s all an illusion, put together by Hollywood, to make me want to take more medicine.

The pastor is beginning a new scene.

It’s Lent. Or The Time of The Gathering, there can be only one. PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE begins to play. Swords clash. The end of society inside my head.

Pastor is still reading a script.

She doesn’t want to forget a thing I guess.

People are opening their sandwich bag with Jesus’ body and blood.

I must have missed something.

I say amen twice.

Everyone turns to look.

I turn too.

Damn sinner, who said that?

We sing a hymn. Nearer to thee. I sing loudly. Off key. Someone sighs sadly. We all say amen.

At the end, there are no pancakes. I sadly leave. “At my church back east, we get pancakes!” Im asked to never attend again. An Easter miracle indeed.

In the night,
I see the fire,
Burning bright,
Among the misery,
In that moment,
All is revealed,
There in the pouring rain,
Sweet misery,
A razor blade across the heart,
Oh Jesus,
Don’t cry,
We have our way to fly,
To kiss the sky,
A dream,
There,
In the field.

03/03/2022

Dear President Putin,

Hello, how are you?

I hope you are doing well. You seem a bit uptight; I mean, invading a country, then going on TV and stating anyone tries anything, you still got nukes.

That’s like me standing in the middle of a Walmart screaming I am the Lizard King, I can do anything.

You should try that!

I decided to write this letter after drinking some crap beer, I couldn’t buy my usual crap beer, the nice cashier told me it cause you President Putin are causing issues.

Please stop that!

I doubt you will ever read this letter but I did once write a letter to Tom Cruise and apparently he read it and sent me a response; it was called CEASE AND DESIST!

I hope you find this letter! I once wrote Mitch McConnell and he replied! By sending a hit squad after me.

Please don’t do that! I know rumors of your temper and sending your opponents to a nice early “Retirement” are well known.

I understand why you invaded Ukraine, I too would love an busted leaking nuclear power plant too!! And the seaport would be nice too; sit on the beach, drinking good Russian vodka, straight, right from the bottle, as we talk about how Ronald Reagan wouldn’t have allowed you to pull this crap.

He was senile.

Our current president is that too but in the funny; “Look mom!! Him got his pants on backwards!”

Can’t you just ask California to give you some beach front property? They got lots! I could come over, sit on sandy beach with you, drink the good vodka.

Please?

Anyways; if you read this, please respond, I could forward it to President Biden; don’t mention that I told you he bad senile.

Your friend;

Me

INTRODUCTION:

The world did not see him as a human being; just a cog in a huge grinding wheel, nothing more, if he broke down, he’d be replaced, not even a mention on the grave stone.

I’m not an author, a writer, just some guy clacking at the keyboard, just some guy clacking at the keyboard trying to get the words out of my mind before they disappear like smoke on the wind.

CHAPTER ONE: TNT LOVE

Mr. John Patterson died as any man would die after having his love scorned by the woman he dreamed he’d spend his life with; he strapped sticks of dynamite to his chest and blew himself up a block from the brothel where his “True love” worked in.

Mary Soren, not her real name, heard and felt the explosion and thought the city of Butte, Montana was being attacked by the Germans.

She found out later, her suitor, who tried to persuade her to move back east with him, had blown himself up at her rejection.

She felt sad for a moment but continued “working” the night through.

I woke from a fright,
A dream I thought was just a dream,
Turned out reality, was not such right,
I tried not to cry,
But failed that night,
Sitting there, in a waiting room,
She decided to pass,
In the afternoon,
Jesus,
Oh God,
What did I do,
To deserve such a curse,
To be punished so bad?

I left my heart,
Buried in a tomb,
Couldn’t find the road back to the truth,
Merry life, swept by me,
Other went on,
And I fell by the wayside, to see,
A burning lie,
A morning in mourning,
A life moving forward,
But seemingly dreary.

To live to be old,
Is sometimes a treat,
And sometimes it’s not,
To see those who you love,
To be buried,
To rot.

Life goes on,
We try to move on,
But sometimes we find,
Ourselves in the muck,
We’re drowning, you see.

Good night,
Old lovers,
And friends,
Remember to tell your heart felt lovers,
Goodnight and love you,
Will see you tomorrow,
For that tomorrow might not bring!