Growing up
I have so many fond memories.
My parents tried to make things fun.
Stability was never the issue.
I know they loved me and my siblings.
It was the town itself.
Other people
who did not like me.
So I will treasure my memories
but I no longer wish to visit.
Evil lurks within our hearts.
Yet hate must be taught.
Then good also dwells within ourselves.
But must also be taught.
For some doing evil comes easy
and they struggle to be good.
While others find hurting others unquestionable.
Yet, saying no, does not mean you are bad.
It merely means you value yourself
and will help with what you can
not every single time.
The reasons why
are often based on fear.
But things will come out
sooner or later.
When lying becomes a habit
it is really difficult to break.
My daughter is having trouble with this concept.
Details
Attention demanded
Talking over options
Trying to find the agreement
Conclusion found
Headache pills sought
Dark room needed to lie down in
See you in a few hours…. hopefully
Knock on the door.
Charity asking for donations.
A bottle drive.
Ten minutes later.
A much cleaner, cleared out basement.
The kids are very happy.
Their parents … maybe not so.
My friend gifted me a color.
The style was suggested by the hairdresser.
I am glad I listened to both of them.
Compliments have been very nice to hear lately.
There is always going to be someone
that you don’t like.
So be proactive
and be the one no one else likes!
All it took was one night.
This morning
the bright yellow and orange leaves
litter the ground.
Fall has arrived.
Time to dig out the sweaters.
That one is U because of his wonky taill.
That one looks like U but is J due to the recent fight wounds.
That one is V because she immediately meows when you open your door
and then runs up and wants you to pet her.
That one looks like my cat but is outside so it must be L.
The smaller, skinner orange tabby is G.
That means I need to stay close to my cats should I decide it is outside time.
Back in University days
I met a bus driver.
I enjoyed talking to him
but he was of indigenous origin.
One day our conversation
turned to the middle ages.
I had joined a group that had fun
pretending to live in medieval times.
He liked the idea of recreating the past
and having fun as one of his ancestors.
To this day I regret trying to dissuade him
from playing an indigenous person.
To white privileged me,
Only European characters should be in the game.
Today, I apologize to him, even though
he may never know, and to all others
I have hurt by my ignorant biases.
Saturn's Premier Poet 