The frayed red rope on the chair quietly beckons me to entertain the thought...

I've lived my best years...

Wasting away into obscurity losing friends along the way...

Finding less and less of a point anymore....

A couple of people milling around a stale smelling funeral home talking about how I'll be missed and what a shame, only to return to normal life on Monday. This isn't a cry for help. It's merely a "what if" scenario. I wouldn't do it because I still may have a couple decent years with the grandkids but these thoughts stand in the hallway nodding my way as if to say you have options loser. Most days they are absent but they did hold up a glass in a cheers gesture today and I oddly smiled their way.

Desert

Beneath the vast and starry desert sky,
Where silence sings and arid breezes sigh,
The cacti stand like sentinels of time,
And mountains rise, majestic and sublime.

The sun retreats; its fiery eye does close,
As twilight brings the day to its repose.
A world of hues—orange, pink, and gold,
A beauty stark, a sight to behold.

But then I turn to southern paths I roam,
To humid air, to chaos, and to home.
Where kudzu climbs and wraps its leafy arms,
And thunderstorms unleash their fierce alarms.

The mundane life, with all its toil and strife,
A stark contrast to desert's tranquil life.
Yet in this chaos, in this wild uproar,
I find the heart of what I'm longing for.

For home is where our stories all unfold,
In whispers of the new and tales of old.
And though disaster may its visage show,
It's here, in tumult, that we truly grow.

What a Life

We live within our inadequacies. 

Screaming at the news about our failing system, we scream and then go about our day.

The world crumbles around us yet we walk through our misery with our narrow vision, focusing only on survival. 

We work all day to have our money stolen by our government, and our lenders. We barely get through our mundane week only to squander our short weekend on mindless, uselessness. Drinking to quite our weary minds to fall asleep and awaken to the harsh reality all over again. I'm no nihilist, but I'm getting closer every day...

Blackberries

The sun was high and the air was hot,

As we walked through the fields of blackberry plots.

My great grandmother and I, we picked and picked,

Until our baskets were full and our fingers were pricked.

We talked about life and love and all that's in between,

As we walked through the fields of blackberry green.

The sun began to set and the sky turned red,

As we made our way back to the house ahead.

We sat on the porch and ate blackberry pie,

As we watched the fireflies light up the sky.

My great grandmother smiled and said with a sigh,

"Life is like blackberries, sweet but fleeting, so don't let it pass you by."

Podcast 6/8/2023

Death of a Brother

The clock strikes midnight, the world is still The darkness creeps in, a chill to kill The wind it howls, a mournful sound As I stand here, on hallowed ground For my brother is gone, to a place unknown His soul now lost, forever alone The tears they flow, a river of pain As I try to come to terms with this painful gain Oh how I wish, he was still here To share his laughter, his love so dear His absence it lingers, a haunting ghost As I struggle to move on, but I am lost The night it draws in, as I sit here alone Remembering all the memories, once we had known The candle flickers, a wisp of light As I whisper softly into the night "Farewell my brother, until we meet again, Your life was brief, but you left a mark, On my soul, on my heart, forever more, Your memory will live, forevermore."

Podcast 4/8/23

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