Good morning Charlie

At first it was a dark tunnel
Filled with dreams both dark and light
Did New Orleans make it out all right?
I heard there was a hurricane.

Oh no? That's good. I love that place.
Thank goodness it was just a dream
Its confusing during the in between
Of sleep and wakefulness.

Something soft and fuzzy rubs against me
What the experts say is "bunting"
But his lovin' just leaves me grunting
In the morning before the coffee.

Her body stretches her sleepy muscles
They have been still for most of the night
And then she sees the slivers of light
Coming in on a beautiful morning.

Okay wake up, its time to do it
Face the day with an open mind
'Tis a day that you know you'll find
Something brand new to experience.

Good morning, Charlie and fuzzy friends
Music will play throughout the day
And mama will come home soon to play
In the golden afternoon.

Game

Alone again. I think perhaps its just me and the world might be my imaginary construct. I suppose it doesn't really matter. Life's just a game, right?

My memory

The vacuum from the chest pulls and pinches
The air from everything, emotion
The heart goes a flutter
Ten thousand finches
At the thought of what's to come

The idea that life is an experience
A moment so insignificant
Almost zero it is in the grand scheme
Of things, enough to tense
The soul for what its worth, hence
It is worth nothing.

Lessons learned from pain but why
Where are we going with this
I cannot discern my lesson except
That perhaps the lesson is that
Despite all the joys and pain in life
It is meaningless
Why do we stay?

We are organisms anyway.
Like cells that live and die
Their only motives are to procreate
But from what we do in life its only
Like we masturbate
For no answers can be found.
It is worth nothing.

Taking a short cut might be the answer
But religion tells that its a sin
Because from there we cannot begin again
But be met with Hell, whatever that could mean
Or nothing, endless, peaceful nothing
Might be what we're met with.

The interactions we have with others
Superficial at best but we have them
Nonetheless.
Humans like to put meaning to their lives
Like our existence is yet another prize
Yet infinitesimally we are nothing
So what does it matter if we disappear

My life is just a dirty smear
On the photograph that is the grand existence
At first glace it is nothing
At second glance it is something
Easily smudged away, forgotten
Like I will be.

A hundred years they will not know me
I have no following
My meek peers they perhaps might miss
My wit, my face, my tender kiss
But in fifty I'll just be a dream
And the memory of me will not be what it seems.

First love

We begin our lives enveloped in protection
Floating in warmth, the echoing sounds of our first love.
She sings to us, rocks us to sleep
We lovingly kick her to let her know we're still there
Alive and kicking.
We are born.
When we are sick she sings to us
Soft melodies that soothe us
Songs we remember until we're old
We pass them down to our own daughters
To our sons.
On our skinned knees, she applies band aids
Our muddy shoes she cleans off
Our dirty faces she grooms
Licks her finger and wipes it off.
Wipes away our tears.
When the monsters come she scares them away
Removes the gum from our hair
How do we feel when the tables turn?
When her demons get the best of her
We know that it isn't her fault
But we ache for that love once more.
If our first love rejects us
Then we are unlovable.
The one we should trust most
Who carried us
Who we were once a part of
Demeans us.
Chastises us and puts us down.
Who's fault could it be but our own.
How do we reject that person
Who we will ache for as adult children?
Our fathers give love, but the nurturing
Is never the same.
To protect is the only game
That they will know.
We want our mothers.
We want their love.
And when that love becomes a game
The only thing we will understand
Is shame.
We have failed. If she doesn't love us
No one will.

Bluebonnets

The Legend of the Bluebonnet

The Texas fields are covered
With a blanket of deep blue.
But for a little Indian girl,
This would not be true.

Texas land was buried and dry.
Rains just would not come.
Indians danced and prayed for rain,
And beat upon their drums.

The Chief made a proclamation.
He appealed to one and all.
A prized possession must be sacrificed
Before the rains would fall.

The Indian camp was silent,
While each person searched his heart.
But when it came to sacrifice,
With possessions they would not part.

Suddenly a little girl stepped forth,
Holding her blue-clad doll.
She placed it in the roaring fire
and raindrops began to fall.

The rain brought forth the grass,
Among its blades, flowers of blue.
To be a sign for all the time
Of a love so pure and true.

Author Unknown

pop

And tonight I am tired
I can't do this anymore
Despite all this diligent work
Its just a useless chore.
I'll spend my nights in silence
I don't want to hear from you again
Or see any other people
Or see any other men.
I remember now why I've always
Hidden. And why I've been silent
I don't care of your motives
Or anything you might have meant.
Let's call the whole thing off
I won't summon any god
God's a father that ignores me
Like those other people have.
It's time for an intervention
It's time for her to stop
She can't tolerate any more of this
Her bubble's about to pop.
My horse never came to me
For me to ride upon his back
This makes me feel inadequate
Is there something more I lack?
I just wanted a little something
A little sugar in my bowl
I won't wait for you honey baby
To come and save my soul.
But I'm not sorry for myself
I'm not on my pity pot
Just realizing what it is
And true it is a lot.
A lost cause, wasted time
I've given too much of it
As my grandma used to say
"I'm so angry I could spit."
But its just my fault tonight
It doesn't really matter
I'll save it for the morning
Or maybe choose the latter.

Two Horses

Two Horses
Author Unknown

Just up the road from my home is a field, with two horses in it.

From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse.

But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing....

Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind.

His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him.

This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell.
Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field.

Attached to the horse's halter is a small bell.
It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow.

As you stand and watch these two friends,
You'll see that the horse with the bell is always checking on the blind horse,
And that the blind horse will listen for the bell and then slowly walk
To where the other horse is,
Trusting that he will not be led astray.

When the horse with the bell returns
To the shelter of the barn each evening,
It stops occasionally and looks back,
Making sure that the blind friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.
Like the owners of these two horses,
Spirit does not throw us away just because we are not perfect
Or because we have problems or challenges.

He watches over us and even brings others into our lives
To help us when we are in need..

Sometimes we are the blind horse
Being guided by the little ringing bell of those who Spirit places in our lives.

Other times we are the guide horse, helping others to find their way....

Good friends are like that...

You may not always see them, but you know they are always there.