Bad

I'm tired of whining about being tired.
Afraid to go to work, afraid of being fired.
Who said I was entitled to just feel good?
Who said things would work out as they should?

This isn't a fairy tale where the good guys win
Too often it's over before it begins
And those of us who work are left with the shit
Of those of us who choose to quit.

It ain't me, Babe.  Sure as hell ain't me.
Some things I've seen I can't unsee
They take up space within my brain
And I'm left with only jumbled pain.

Give me beads, prayers ready made
To make my sick frustrations fade.
Bring me a god to give relief
And suspend my disbelief.

Home Schooled by Mother

When I was a child, I rested my chin on a smooth flat stone, warmed by the sun, and I became part of the tall grass zoo.

I was held in the strong arms of the maple trees and the leaves taught me how to turn my face to the sun.

I ate cherries, apples, pears, rhubarb, plums, grapes washed only by the rain
and the fruit and the rain and I were the same.

I lay flat on my back in the grass and watched the stars and the fireflies and I began to glow and twinkle.

Eagles taught me to soar over the river by becoming unseen therms.

Beneath skirt of the tall spruce tree I sat on a carpet of flat brown needles during a gentle rain and I became the smell of pine.

I buried my face in lilacs - purple, violet, white - and learned to giggle with their soft power.

I sat hugging my knees in an open field in rain that stung while green and white lightening pulled at my skin and thunder shook my chest.  I knew.

There is no such thing as death. 
Nothing left to fear. 
I won't return to the Earth. 
I'm already here.

If you want to participate, check out the GMan

http://g-man-mrknowitall.blogspot.com/

A long weekend yawns ahead

My old dog snores beside me on the bed

She dreams of pain-free days of jumping high.

Hearing sharp and clear brown eyes

Her white muzzle twitches in a smile

I let her sleep to run another mile

Paws hint of hopping through the grass

Dreaming puppy days long past.

Going Where I've Been

I know, I know
But even so
You don't have to say it again
Just let it go

Ah, you and I
We come and we go
That's how it's always been
I know, I know

Never enough time
To totally heal
I know you'll go again
I'm just keeping it real.

  I hold you in my heart
  I hold you in my soul
  There's nothing left of me
  No place left to go

Just hold me now, my friend
I know, I know
It breaks me every time
But I won't let it show

I know, I know
I don't have to say it again
You know, you know
I'll go where I've been.

She Still Chooses

She chose those.
Those clothes, those shows, those beaux,
Heaven knows she didn't do without beaux.

Now, nearer the close than the beginning,
She remembers losing more than winning,
Never looked at it as sinning,

Knew there'd always be more innings,

And she always left them grinning.

And it looks as if it's true
Though she really never knew
If one could really live as two
And be happy as they do,
Together all their whole lives through.

What is it that she hadn't done

While laughing fast toward the sun?

She often thought she'd found the one

But soon as it had begun,
She called it done.
Could not maintain two as one.

She could not let an other in

She'd never lose, and never win.

So left alone in silent din

Too tired to begin again

She fixes photos with a pin

She takes her memories one by one

And watches them fade in the sun

Too tired, and too wise to run

And satisfied with all the fun

She wonders if it's all now done.

A tap upon the rusted gate!

Might there be such thing as fate?

Perhaps it isn't all too late

Perhaps there is someone who'll wait

While her internal storm abates

The storm now blows with much less fury

And she's in much less a hurry

And older vision, clearly blurry

Sees its truth, is judge and jury

Knows there's no answer to life's query.

Why not once more!  What's there to lose?

Maybe together, but not fused

Not so close that we might bruise.

Not for answers, just for clues

Always more for us to choose.

I like the way the rhythm bumps the reader a couple of times in this one.