The bitter cold has lifted, the snowflakes melted wet.

The winds are more forgiving, we are huddled with feet set.

On ground as hard as clay, under sky as white as bone.

We are humbled and forgiven, yet we feel so all alone.

Maybe it’s just the season, it might be something more.

We are waiting on deliverance, in that distance there’s a roar.

I’d been searching for the answers… When finally she came along.

Preforming miracles, curing cancers. Giving music to the song.

She taught and gave directions. Even when I didn’t ask.

She let me know my fortune. In her sunshine I could bask.

She showed me all my foibles. And how little I evolved.

I felt criminally unworthy, so I left her. Mystery solved.

The voices they were moving.

On the water and in the air.

In her head was far from soothing.

And your name was everywhere.

She was holding onto sanity.

By a needle and a thread.

Her thoughts? Not worth a mention.

Except some mumbled words were said.

Something  happened somewhere.

Was a child, and then she grew.

Lived in the pain of “that’s not fair.”

Then she set her eyes on you.

In the gravity of her attention.

You were savior on white horse.

For her, not worth a mention.

You just failed… of course. Of course.

All those tears, ‘not worth a mention.’

Because you know she has to cry.

Now that I have your full attention…

You can stay or wave bye-bye.

Once you escape.

Create a safe distance.

Enter therapy!

Heal…

And try again.

If fortune shines your way.

You find someone who is kind and loving. 

Only then  will you realize that a younger version of you made that choice.

“The world is a wonderful place… it’s just filled with cunts and the internet is to blame.”

The sentence was death by boredom. The virus spread the earth.

Madness rained down upon them. Like some monsters giving birth.

They handed out free money. The kind that makes you soft.

And nearly jumped out their skin. When someone smiled and coughed.

Then Dylan put out an album. With a song called Murder Most Foul.

That sounds as disgusted as I feel. Like the purging of a bowel.

I’ve learned to take the blessings and take them as they come.

He is at another level, a bit too much for some.

A dory is a small row boat used by fishermen.
I knew we were in trouble when I couldn’t get Dexter to sit down as he tried to untangle the net, rocking the dory; taking on river water.
My warning,
“We’re going to sink if you don’t sit down . ”
This seemed to fall on deaf ears.
I remembered Harold’s wise words.
“If you think you’re going under, remove your rubber boots, or you will drown.”
I was sitting in my socks in the middle of the river, bailing water with a rubber boot as the dory disappeared beneath me. We had reached the tipping point.
The Atlantic Ocean water is cold in late October and adds weight to sweaters made of wool.
I heard Dexter splashing. However, my main focus early on was to not get tangled up in the net. When I was sure I was clear, I was dog tired and decided to allow my body time to recover for another push to shore. This required holding my breath and allowing myself to sink to the bottom Deception River.
It was here in the estuary with approximately 10 feet of the Atlantic Ocean over my head that I realized that it had been perhaps decades since I had prayed and this might be an opportune time to return to the practice. The prayer went something like this.
“Dear God… If you get me out of this; I will never drink again. ”
I pushed off the river bottom and swam towards shore in the darkness. I remembered Persy’s warnings,
“Don’t panic… to panic is death.”
I sank, stayed calm and reached dry land .
Dexter yelled from the opposite shore.
I sat for a moment cold and grateful to be alive and thought to myself… If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to die.

Dennis Mantin

The advisor said, “Kill them with kindness.”

Sometimes you have to recognize that avoiding conflict with someone who is addicted to conflict is the only option if avoiding a pyrrhic victory.

Writing cheques to keep peace appears weak to some… I get it.

However, if you don’t raise children in a safe, peaceful environment, then you’ll be dealing with therapy for the rest of their lives.

An old man was meandering up the sidewalk with a cane, and the button on his tweed hat read ‘ Peace begins with a smile ‘
I thought to myself, “So does deception; but it was early, and I hadn’t had my coffee.”
Dennis Mantin