Roses are Red

Life Isn’t Fair

The Big Head Speaks

And I Don’t Care.

When men feel stress, they process.

When women feel stress, they talk.

Generally speaking, women feel uncomfortable with the men’s process because it happens in silence.

For a man to talk when he’s stressed only increases his stress.

I’ll just leave this here and go away for a while and write…

Talk among yourselves

OR

Process by yourself.

A Goddess, she was lovely.

Had me trembling at the knee.

But one bad use of pronouns.

And you know I had to flee.

The Unknown is a bastard.

In the shadows of the morn.

The used to be much larger.

When I was barely born.

The Unknown are surprises.

No preparing will suffice.

If the sun at east she rises.

You’ve a chance and don’t think twice.

I was tired from the outset.

My brain had just shut down.

We were waiting for the time change.

All the warmth had just left town.

I was living near the freeway..

With small beds of memory foam.

There was nothing to remember.

And no hair was left to comb.

When I tripped on your umbrella

You were huddled under rain.

I was hungry and delirious

I was buckling from the strain.

Then this sound that was like singing.

Sounded like a thing that you might keep.

And I faded off to dream world.

In a deep and monstrous sleep.

I

The Sunshine lit me up today 

There was talk again of rain.

They were chatting about the weather.

I rolled my eyes again.

The fever overtook me.

Doc said, “You’re doing something right.”

If I stop listening to opinions.

The future might look bright.

Saturday past midnight.

Every star is in the skies.

I am waiting for the sun to come.

To go home and close my eyes.

They are filming in the shadows.

Stuntmen fight and lovers dance.

There is something in the sequel.

About a heroes second chance.

I’m not being callous or cavalier.

I’m not saying I don’t care.

I’m not saying that I’m not grateful.

I’m just got old and I’ve been there.

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…