My Mother and her generation said it best.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say anything at all.”

My generation say or maybe it’s just me…

If you don’t have anything nice to say then shut the fuck up!”

Bill reminded me again today about the damage of disparaging comments…

There was sunlight in the raindrops.

No silence on the bus.

The crew they were complaining.

Thank God it wasn’t us.

The Chardonnay wasn’t chilled enough.

The trolly was a running late.

Others were lacking something.

Which was only tempting fate.

We were spared a final torment.

Because their destination came.

I was left feeling so much better.

And my silence held no shame.

I am working in the nighttime.

Top rewards the price of wealth.

I am tired and exhausted.

And I fear for fading health.

There’s a balance and a scorecard.

There’s a meter on the dash.

One is keeping tabs on speed.

And the others counting cash.

October rains have filled the skies…

The leaves have come unglued.

A joke was told, I didn’t laugh.

So now I’ve been called rude.

The sensitive are all a flutter.

Judging in that special way.

Fearing winter will be a cold one.

With only the fiddler left to pay.

We were slow to change and learning.

But we learned to bite our lips

At the stakes were screams and yearning.

At the shores were slavery ships.

The Captain lost the first mate.

To the heist of some disease.

The King was high and tempting fate.

At the harem of, ‘Do as you please.’

This was long before the activists.

Long before we lost the boat.

Then the men became all feminists.

Then we lost the right to vote.

She said I had good meter, I nodded and said thanks.

Hadn’t a clue what she meant, my mind was drawing blanks.

So I looked it up on Google, was more or less my thought.

I sometimes sit at paper, just to see what will be got.

I’ve always had good meter. Just a thing I feel or see.

Mysteries and shades of grays like colors, there they be.

It’s peaceful here in the morning, just before the break of dawn.

No plans are in the future and the past is all but gone.

I’ve got this in the rearveiw and the deal is day by day.

There are sober somber thoughts here that I fear are here to stay.

I was blessed with something cordial, but I don’t think that was me.

I know that winters coming. Looking like a storm to me.

She will disappear soon…

All memories of her will be gone.

Into the ether.

Of the time and space continuim.

I put so much importance on her, and now to just let her go.

A human nature flaw that I see in myself and others.

How can we want something so much; and then say “fuck it” when we don’t get my needs met?

There is much humanity swirling in the ether I suspect.

There were salmon down in the river. Colors filled the yard.

There was disdain in the bedroom. There was more trash to discard.

There is trouble in the henhouse. In the fields golden corn.

Everyone will eat well this evening and more resentments will be born.

There is something in the water and bad vibes in the air.

The neighbors are still screaming and I no longer care.