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.

I don’t have anything to prove, and I don’t ask for much. However, I wish people would stop smoking at bus stops, especially up wind from me; and also, I wish those who voted for Justin Trudeau would stop posting political opinions much in the same way I would like folks to stop farting in elevators…

I am tired, just exhausted. There are no words to speak. I’m grumpy in my head.

The mattress sat against the wall because we’ll… I hadn’t fixed the bed.

There are moments for reflection, and there are times to pace the floor.

There are words that lose expression if you leave and find the door.

There are times I guess when silence is the only thing that’s said.

And grab the screws and hammer and just fix aforementioned bed.

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’s a time to be self centered.

Happens when you’re a child.

There’s a time for your rebellion.

All is new and you are wild.

There’s a time to be a hero.

There’s a time to be a Dad.

And these times to be your father.

Are the best I’ve ever had.

The Distance overtook us.

Was a blessing mixed with time.

Those feelings all subsided

Except the lying/judgment/crime.

I don’t dwell unless I’m writing.

Even then the words just flow

I could search here for forgiveness.

Sad but true and I don’t know.

The stars were all but hidden, we could see the Harvest Moon.

The greyest clouds, a pale blue, the sun an orange balloon.

Was quiet in the meadow and no city screams to hear.

There is something sweet and silent in this changing of the gear.

There are wonders and they happen, right before our eyes.

Now I’m tired and I’ll go to sleep cause that would seem so wise.

Her voice has not gone silent.

With this distance I can’t hear.

She’s yammering somewhere to someone.

About something, let’s be clear.

A story about a victim.

A heroes journey with a cause.

And an abusively bad bastard.

Who can surf above the laws.

She can speak with such conviction.

And for for sure those will be tears.

Don’t feel bad, she’s fooled the experts.

A practiced art for tired ears.

Some people think I miss her.

I never learned to be that tall.

Truth be such admiration.

For such bold impudent gall.

Rumble in the alley bout something that should have been.

Not saying there was a witness but you really should come clean.

They love a rise from fall now, just keep it trimmed and lean.

They are handing out forgiveness to the parties that come clean.

Your Daddy was offended, not being made Parade Day Queen.

Your Mama has had enough now, she is about ready to come clean.

I’m disgusted and disguised now, I am Batman on Halloween.

I just sit in brooding silence, there’s zero chance I will come clean.

“What a great idea… Do you know what this place is missing? A box of shit in the living room! Let’s get a cat.”