I recognized my nature.
Not much was steeped in good.
There was this strange sensation.
Like maybe I just should.
Forget it all and start a new.
Take the narrow view to wide.
Take my head out from my ass.
And maybe look outside.
Not all is gain or glory.
Not all is pain and strife.
The road the path the choices made.
It’s a wild ride this life.
I was weak with sweats and dreaming.
In a fever wretched with guilt.
No one spoke or shared a thought.
Not a whisper, and silence built.
I was swimming in a blue zone.
Dark hues spun and mixed with grays.
The smell of fear filled our lungs.
Not one thought of brighter days.
Here it is, soon Christmas Eve.
First year without a tree.
The world didn’t end, and I’m still here.
So many things are still to be.
The day the voice moved in with me, he brought his good friend fear.
Said ‘We all share your heart and soul you’ll soon forget we’re here.’
The day the voice moved in with me, peace and sleep moved out.
The addict he was at the door, and the voice he jumped to shout.
Said, ‘We like you we like it here, we know you like us too
And we know you’ll like our friends, cause true friends are so few.’
The voice would talk for hours about nothing much at all.
And all the noise would wake the fear and the drunk would wake withdrawal.
Years had passed in tears and stains and I had to kill the fear.
The voice he left in the middle of the night, said he didn’t like it here.
The voice returns sometimes when I sleep but he’s gone when I’m awake.
The strength it took to kill the fear was more than he could take.
And the drunk is with the addict and they live from coast to coast. And sometimes when I pray to God, I pray you’re not their host.
Singing, ‘We like you, we like it here, we know you like us too. And we know you’ll like our friends cause true friends are so few.
–Dennis Mantin
We’ve been in the battle royal.
Taking chin shots in our stride.
Telling myths so we don’t spoil.
Laughing loud, the truth inside.
It is such a lie, all this beauty.
Of Kings, Whores and Lonely Men.
No more joy. Accounts and duty.
Bite your tongue and count to 10.
Having thoughts lots about dying.
And other things that I don’t know.
Its not the fear that’s got me down.
Just that I don’t want to go.
Now sure I know I have no choice.
Has been made abundant and clear.
This transformation is all the rage.
I just kinda like it here.
I hear all this complaining.
What’s wrong about this and that.
You never really stood a chance.
With an attitude like that.
Everyone is cheating.
Except for you and me…
Options here? Slim and none.
Really, none that I can see.
The dreamers left the highlands.
Rumors are they’re coming back.
To the hope of honest smiles.
Where good story fades to black.
I was lost last night in forests.
Traveled far and deep with you.
There was peace and not much cheating.
Then I woke. That’s what I do.
My sister Joyce died on Friday. I found out today. The day I became a senior.
When I was younger, I never thought I’d get this old. I don’t know what Joyce thought.
Joyce was 10 years older than me, and we had different fathers. I was told by my mother that Joyce was my cousin the first time I saw her. Mom died the next month.
She was given up for adoption to my mother’s brother Billy and his wife. Her real father died in a car accident before she was born. Our mother got tuberculosis and couldn’t cope with parenting. Her adopted mother died when she was a toddler, and her adopted father, my uncle Billy, died in a car accident before she was 10.
I have never known anyone more saturated in tragedy.
RIP Joyce 🙏
Sipping tea on a Saturday.
All day, morning, afternoon.
At midnight, I’m a senior.
This growing old has come so soon.
I thought I’d die much younger.
I was wrong, guess I am blessed.
Don’t know why time does fly.
I’m so guilty. There; I’ve confessed.
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