They say age is a number and its true until you reach a high one
then fear sets in and dreams become a terror up until sun.
You don't want to go but sometimes staying is not so good,
you would like to have a real answer, what you'd do if you could.
Some folks grow very old and live to share their time
then others have a shortened while living on a smoke and a dime.
I hear the music playing every night as I close my weary eyes
wishing I had told more truth and many fewer lies.
Ambition can be a killer or a highway to the stars
but I have had so much in 60 years I am all the way to Mars.
I do not want to go an easy way, I want to make a noise
I want to shout my words to all, with a little class and poise.
If I can't then I guess I will stay, at least until tomorrow
I am not sure about the constant pain and sorrow.

Copyright...WHC
Jan./2014

The problem is,
no matter that I walk for a thousand miles or a month, or a year
I find myself back here
where I started from.
I am the karma reconstitute,the weak man or the resolute
but I always come back to the start
and it's the start that's the matter,it begins as I shatter another life that I live and goes on,
that's the problem.

I may be that hamster on a wheel,in a cage I can't see but I feel that it's there as everything spins,or am I the doll you stuck pins in
but,
then I think,if I was punctured
I would not spin and I'm back at the beginning,flat on the floor,what's more,
I do feel deflated,dried up,desiccated but the karma kicks in and once again I begin to evolve and to spin and the wheel feels so real as I turn into what you would want to believe.

When I was but a lad with snot on my sleeve and in my pocket of sweets where
I could then truly believe in some transitional state,I related quite well,
but I grew and it all went to seed
it's not hell that I need but it's hell that I get and yet
heaven's out there,
there are angels in Tooting, (like me) reconstituting and waiting for a share of the pie.

I thought living on my own for the week would be empowering. Turns out it’s just lonely.
When this place holds so many amazing memories, it’s horrible to be in it alone.
When I walk around all I can do is remember everything. The good and the bad.
With him.
I remember the littlest things he did. Here. There. I remember where we fought, where we made up, where we said goodbye.
With them.
Singing. Drinking. Having a good time, reminding me that there is much more fun to be had in our short lives. With me.
There doesn’t seem to be much. Just this emptiness and longing for other people.

You whisper poetry in my ear
While I cut the heads off flowers.
Your breath is satin and I'm using shears
Stems and bones break the same way.
You're warmth and light and wonder
A sun in the void of myself.
You are a thousand universes all compressed
Into flesh and bone.
You're terrifying
But I want to explore you forever.
You rend me limb from limb
Never laying a finger on my skin.
You're the death of me in an immortal soul
Perfection in the cracks of a vase.
You deserve my hatred for my pain
But I love you ever more with each ache.
You've left me helpless and
I only want more.
You're stars in the vastness of sky
Looking at the flowers I am, sprouting from mud.
You burn me with a glance
My petals withered and fell.