We sometimes call her Flo
because she helps with the cycles.
She visits every month
cleaning out the unused linens
and replacing them for the next possible visitor.
Sometimes she can be mean
Harsh with her cruel words
making us cramp up
from the pain she inflicts.
She is not always kind when she cleans.
Still, without her help
the young ones would not arrive
which is why the older you get the less she visits.
She likes the babies.
Today is day where I wish her visit was already over.
When the dreams drive us deeper
We strive to strike the surface
Only to find empty air.
A shambles of the waking world.
Closing our eyes makes us watch reruns
Again
And again.
Seeing the nightmares of reality
Through crying eyes
Sleep deprived and numb.
My head may rest
But my body cannot stop the shakes.
Creativity is all used up.
No ideas left for this morning.
Too many schedules to maintain.
Much is organized and found wanting.
Life is hectic and I’m needing a day off.
I have no idea where I am going with this.
Other than to say, Yay!
To those who turned their lives around
I am proud of you.
It is the ones who say
but do not do
that make me sad.
Everyone deserves a second chance
Except those who refuse to accept change is necessary
for society to re-accept them.
When prisons go bad
people get worse.
Can we help society by loving the people but not their crimes?
Office Parties Suck
When Party Politics gets involved.
Those who like to be wall flowers
are thrown into the Fray
As those who are trying to stir up the crowd
Are too drunk to see the Fear
they are causing.
The onlookers watch with horrified dismay
and sip their coffees carefully
as the clowns parade
throughout the office
shouting out their slogans
with ties wrapped around their heads.
Underwear or lamps may be involved
but not before a fight breaks out.
Nowadays security cameras pick up everything
and CEO’s weed out chafe
after watching the highlights of the Party.
One day we might not have parents.
Scientifically to be grown in a vat.
Nurtured in an orphanage of robots.
Wanting the human touch.
Wasting away as humanity fades.
Yet, we are still human.
We still have the elders who learned the lore
and remember the days when parents
cuddled them and loved them.
My Mother is but a cell from which I was grown.
My Father the fertilizer who transformed me.
Yet neither are who I am
or will become.
You think you know someone
only to discover
they have a part
previously unknown
of surprising depth
and pain.
We all try to find “ourselves”
and sometimes it is a pleasant surprise.
Other times it is terrify
to find out what you have become
in order to have survived.
Knowing something is not the same as being able to do it.
Knowing there is an answer but not always finding it.
Having seen it done once but unable to recall how.
Being stubborn and refusing to ask for help.
Describing the problem in half remembered terms.
Coming to terms with one of your weaknesses.
Living with the shame of never getting the computer to work the way you know it should.
In times of trouble
A simple phrase will be said.
Only to be repeated
Either goodly or badly
As those are want to do.
As time goes by
It will be repeated again
Sometimes phrasing will change
The meaning most definitely.
Then there are those
Who are doomed
As history repeats itself.
When the routines are no routine at all
Making the bed seems frivolous.
Struggling with mental health issues
at the same time as raising three with similar problems
can be very taxing to the system.
Routine is fought for
and sometimes won
in a daily battle
with myself
and
with them.
Saturn's Premier Poet 