Forgetting You

Poems and Things

You’re slipping away, hun.
I’m forgetting you.
And time sure robs my memory of eyes a headstrong blue.

The flushed red pain across my cheeks barely show at all-
For when I’m away from family
I’ll stop to feel the gall.

But lingering a moment less
each time I sit away,
Have got me where I feel the least,
and I move on with my day.

But I fear I’ll forget you completely
And all the memories will turn gray.
You were someone in my life
and I’ll never give that away.

Will you ever read these words,
where my heart I wring out and squeeze?
I’m sorry if I forget you,
But please remember me.

Type Me

Poems and Things

Sometimes my count says no,
but my body says yes because
a machine doesn’t know
what my body feels like.

A machine’s not my body.
My body is me.
You don’t know my body,
my body only knows me.

My chart says this,
but my body doesn’t see.
My body only knows
who I am is me.

“Happily me,”
typing to me.
Nothing else matters,
I’m Type Me.

Greed

Poems and Things

Greed made my face green.
The mirror was far from me.
This evil green monster came swirling around me.

A clear curtain transforming
an opaque barrier wall.
Replacing a kind face
with malice and gall.

Friend turned to enemy,
our love is at stake.
It’s mine, not yours,
not yours to take.

The yolk from the whites,
the church from state.
Like homeland from colonies
we were on the brink.

In a blink, a bat of an eye,
who I am began to fly by.
My sweetness soured
and whispered goodbye.

My soul gripped by Satan,
his hand fingering my chest.
Oh wretched sly snake prodding me to his nest.

I see you now, cretin,
there will be no mistake.
There will be no more sneaking
with your head on a stake.

Anger, greed,
malicious intent,
it’s nearly impossible
to circumvent.

Ennobling Mother

Poems and Things

Pat, pat, pat, pat,

A new mother holds her baby.

Pat, pat, pat, pat, 

Whose eyelids start to droop.

“I’m your mother, I’m your mother,”

The hands seem to sing.

“I’m your mother, I’m your mother,”

This brimming heart has waited.

“I’m her mother, I’m her mother,”

The ennobling name blooming.

“I’m her mother, I’m her mother,”

On her head a gold crown plaited.

Pat, pat, pat, pat,

Sweetly the baby complys.

Pat, pat, pat,

She’s fallen off to sleep.