Sonnet XXXIX -- What Have We Learned Today?

And in the end, there is nothing and less.

It is what it is, it do what it do.

Daydreams are over, we can only guess

What the world has in store for me and you.

The answer remains in total silence.

Lost in the endless chatter of voices,

The caring touch is repulsed with violence

No longer can we demand our choices.

Yet I find my ears are newly open.

I am humbled to learn how to listen.

Liberation comes through words unspoken,

I know my mud is starting to glisten.

So, relieved of the past, we now grow old,

And try to make sure our stories are told.

Bunch of Short Pieces Lying Around

1.

Words fail me.

Art fails me.

Legs fail me.

Hands fail me.

2.

Daydreams and nightmares
Finally have to end now
And I must clean house

3.

Fresh fruit and red rice yeast.

I need toilet paper again?

All other needs have ceased.

There is no store that offers men.

4.

love cannot always

keep the idiots you love from

running into flames

Rhyme on a Dime

Sometimes, I am reminded that I’m ill,

And it can’t be cured by a single pill.

Nature smacks me down for eating sugar.

Just came to me the best rhyme is “booger.”

Take your brief Beavis and Butthead moment.

Sorry for the literary torment.

Anyway, a mild MS still is crap,

That won’t be laughed away with just a snap.

It makes an aging body even worse,

Someday will require at least one nurse.

But here I am and still ambulating.

Inside my mind still am a strong young thing,

Living in an age of Wine and Roses,

My one concern my Disco Queen poses.

I dream about whirling on the dance floor

With a tall and thin Romeo once more.

The Truth hits me with the back of her hand,

When I have to simply rise up and stand.

OK, enough of me feeling sorry,

They already wrote “Tuesdays With Maury.”

(*Yes, I am playing with forcing rhymes.)

Sonnet XXXVIII -- Ready For My Closeup Mr. DeMille

Ready for my closeup, Mr. DeMille,

Bring the lights up full and show the wrinkles.

In the age of Volt, I’m a Coupe DeVille,

My paint job is shattered into crinkles.

When do you give up on love and success,

And simply concentrate on the moment?

Chasing a thrill causes kneecap distress,

Your neck is cramping and your back is bent.

You’re not getting rich after sixty years,

Love Disability and Medicare.

Stifle the thoughts of a future of fears.

Everyone will know if you dye your hair.

I’m a senior and Golden Ager.

No longer minor, I guess I’m major.

Acceptance is the Greatest Gift

To understand without judgment

Is the hardest art of all.

Stop being hero savior

Catching others as they fall.

Denying someone’s honesty

Is to be a pushy bitch.

To think that you can heal their wounds

Means you want to be a witch.

I am chastened now and quiet,

Hosing down my own damned street.

Asking you for the same regard

When in life we chance to meet.

Sonnet xxxvii -- One is the Cheapest Number

In dreams was I in love with six odd men,

Just two of them involved consummation.

And none of them felt a thing for Susan,

Treating me with scorn and condemnation.

And now I stand so near the end of life,

My body aged and gray and sagging down

I have no hope of ever being wife,

A failed and useless shadow of a clown.

And yet, I need not bow my head in shame

As no man means no fights or derision.

I can fancy myself a saucy old dame

And be in charge of ev’ry decision.

And if there is no sweet male Romeo,

I’ll cuddle with my stock Portfolio.

ONE MINUTE MONOLOGUE

Wow! Give me a second. I wasn’t prepared to talk right now…but we might as well get it over with. All right! Here’s the thing… I didn’t know what I was doing, all right? I know that’s not an excuse and I’m not looking for an excuse but I was just a young, stupid kid, with really, REALLY bad parents and I just wanted an excuse…a reason to escape. So, I did. I dropped out of college and got married because he asked me and it seemed to make sense. I thought that’s what my parents wanted and I thought that was what I wanted, but it wasn’t. We were miserable. And poor…God! Were we poor.  We had a couch, a television, a bed and a dining room table and everything else was in boxes. Boxes all over the place. I had to find a job typing and he actually drove a cab. Poor Eddie. He didn’t know…we didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into, dropping out of college and leaving our folks. Of course, it couldn’t last. But he didn’t want to go. I actually had to go and put the deposit on an apartment for him. And the first time I go over there…he’s got a stereo! I spent seven years wearing rags and eating noodles and Eddie got to his own place and he finds a way to afford a stereo. And I realized he was so excited about that stereo…showing me all the dials and what it could do…what it sounded like and then it hit me. He was happier alone with that stereo than he ever was with me. And I went back to my place and looked around and there was nothing…not a thing there that did the same thing for me. I’ve been looking ever since.

Replacement Essay from A Chastened Writer

It is Sunday, February 19^th. I am going to be trying to start over everything and so I have erased the previous posting for today. Social Media has got its ups and downs and hurdles. It’s far from perfect, but proving its powers, if used properly. I got too emotionally caught up on a personal level. It is what it is and it do what it do. I have met my former coworkers, old friends, family and fellow churchgoers and Montclairians, of course, and 3 of the rest of you. But now, it is time to start fresh. We have to define what exactly a Facebook friend is. We should have a real life and post fun and educational things about it. We must tread carefully if we go beyond that. We can be supportive, but you need real people to see to your needs in real life on a daily basis. Intimate details are best left outside the door. Some people need to have LIKEs and some people just need to announce their beliefs. After a rough transition, I will explain once more that I try to be supportive and do not comment on things I have not read. I may read your statement and want to go “Hooray!” and the only way to do this is through the woefully inadequate LIKE. At any rate, remember you can remove any comment you don’t like yourself and I will not mind. If you want me to remove something, ask me and I will. It’s easy to send a message to me on Facebook if you need any explanation. I will try harder to make absolutely sure of what I am saying and not be humorous unless a joke is clear. We can do more good than harm if we keep it friendly and unemotional, which I have not been good at. Let’s put the emotions into changing the world. Our lives have to be dealt with in the real world. Thanks for your support and encouragement. I'm trying to grow up even if I'm 62.

Sonnet XXXVI -- Bet Will Never Used the Word "Boobs"

Combine a disease that causes exhaustion

With an early retirement and now

The rising expenses you must toss in

There is no rhyme or reason to say how

I can understand the specter of doom.

Not to feel old and tired and useless,

And hide away in my too silent room

Counting the wrinkles amid my damned mess.

I no longer care what’s between my legs,

Which at this point is probably my boobs.

My life is down to viewing ashes and dregs,

On computer and television tubes.

Thank God I can cry out by pen and voice,

Might as well, Kid, I got no other choice.

Essay: Cleaning Up and Moving On

The time has come to gird my loins (and that’s not so easy at my age) and get all the plays and poems and half-started novels together and try to see if I can leave any kind of legacy. After all, Shakespeare didn’t know he was Shakespeare. (He would have been as rich as Neil Simon if he had collected all the royalties for all the great and half-assed productions of his plays. Don’t start me on the movie rights.) As I wrap up my most recent HUGE STUPID LEARNING EXPERIENCE, I have to be honest and admit that I’ve bled that particular puppy to death and have nothing left to say. Alas, it has left me a better and smarter person, which means it’s going to be more difficult to make an ass out of myself and get a play and 200 “poems” out of my mistake. Still, I have faith that, even though I am old and crippled, I can find something to misinterpret and people to piss off. We had considered an Apology Tour, but that would just keep the negative river flowing and I think everyone wants off that ride. So, in addition to the task of cleaning this $@%*&; apartment, I have to sit down and do the rather daunting task of arranging all these words. (And believe me, they are known to run giggling and hide under the couch). Once we do that and straighten out the crappy pentameter and clunking imagery, we will then finally be free…to try and sell the damned things in a world without money. I never needed Will’s advice more than now.

Addicted to Love

Of all the drugs, the biggest Jones is Love.

That makes us let a man give us the pipe.

For one, I left my college sans degree,

Because I could not see he was not ripe

And unprepared to be a husband true.

The next, I swore to God, was just my type

Because he hooked me with his sexual skills.

To say that solves all problems is just hype,

He spent my cash and slowly went insane.

And from my life this bozo I did wipe

I broke my addiction for nineteen years,

Then loved a man who likes his sex on Skype.

The only way to find his perfect girl.

I now have run out of rhymes with “type.”

The addiction to love and men is dead.

Retired now from seeing skies of blue,

No longer needing my heels over head.

Sonnet XXXV - You Gotta Laugh

I want to be human and not  a “Chick”,

No longer defined by sex or by love.

I aced those tests and now I am so sick

Of placing some pained and sick male above.

Raised to self-hatred, I kept it alive

By selecting any male whose heart beat,

And whose ego needed a slave to thrive.

Of course, all would eventually cheat.

Strangely, Kid, you were the most honest man

Told me flat out you wanted perfection,

A girl who resembled your first woman

Was needed for your storied erection.

I accept the fact that I’m too old now,

Retire my field from the seed and the plow.

I Minored in Philosophy, Let's Shake Off the Rust

Philosophy is the study of general and fundamental problems, such as those connected with existence, knowledge, values, reason, mind, and language. It is wonderful while it is a study…where you start having  a problem is in needing to arrive at a conclusion or to arrive at a Truth. Philosophy is the party.  Truth is the morning after. When you say ERGO…you had better be ready to wow the crowd. I learned a long time ago that the greatest army of facts can’t stop a single prejudice if the other person needs to believe the lie. My Truth may clash with your Truth and if we are both daydreaming about perfection and redemption, then we are saying that Truth does not yet exist and we must create it in our dreams. By the time we realize that we cannot survive in the nonexistent, we may no longer be young and we are are mired in reality. The secret to not going mad or committing suicide is to connect with our reality. This is it. This is the game and the rules. How you move forward means you must understand where you are and move forward on solid ground. Drop your demands and expectations if they have never been fulfilled and just be open to what the world offers you. It might be more than you expected and you might be happier than you imagined. Try not to feel anger and regret that you didn’t know this earlier. Stay in the moment and stop thinking. Just breathe. And I am not saying that I am there yet. I am not saying I don’t still drift off to Fantasyland. I am only saying that I’m starting to get It. And like Philosophy, I may not be able to tell you the answer, but I am starting to enjoy the Journey.

Sonnet XXXIV June in February

I am puzzled by a spring like winter,

Confused trees and flowers trying to bloom.

Life is not a stroller but a sprinter,

Just arrived now we have to leave the room.

My hair and skin have to remind me,

That we can’t achieve the prizes of youth.

Sex and success are now far behind me,

Diplomats may call me “long in the tooth.”

But looking back wastes our few precious days.

We must concentrate on finding small joys.

Nothing we can do about Nature’s ways.

Grandma has to stop looking at the boys.

I do accept that my best days have passed,

Does time have to keep flying so damned fast?

Sonnet XXXIII -- I Promise Not to Do Two in One Day Again

I fly to Seattle July the Fourth,

And have friends to see in Washington State.

I’m sick and I’m aging and see the worth,

Of one final trip through the Western Gate.

Could take the coast train down to old L.A.

See the Pacific and San Francisco,

Providing that I don’t let my mind stray

To a fellow whom I knew long ago.

No, I can’t go South till I guarantee

That my mind is clear of that insane crap.

I thought we were friends, but I didn’t see

That he needs a scapegoat and laid a trap.

I now understand his raw addictions,

Silence will quell all your dire predictions.

A Warm and Snowless February

Is this February without a flake

An aberration or a precursor

Of a world that we’ve finally destroyed?

We are childless oddities all alone

Picking up our crumbs of fame and fortune

Sisters, nieces and nephews to forget.

I am grateful to leave no child behind

To suffer ever-crowded reality

And to wonder why they were ever born.

One man died and the other came too close

Thank God I was free and not at their sides

And others had to haul that cart of ash.

Now I’ll let you fall down into your hole

Too far away to hear your pointless cry

Surviving till I see the snow again.

Three Years Retirement on April 15

A          it’s not to prosper, it’s more to survive

B          a cold sea change from my college girl days

A          there never was a career to revive

C          everything fell into a smaller place

B          and i live my life in much simpler ways

C          accepting wrinkles in my aging face

D         emptiness is my silent enemy

E         finally in charge of my business

D         finding solace in creativity

F          they say you must be three years retired

E          to lose the damned sense of dizziness

F          and start to use the lessons you’ve acquired