I endured loss
because memories wanted to live.

I endured memories
because love insists.

Mountain walks
Allow for careful thought
Views of what we have done and will do
Among the leaves and trees we envision our lives
Seeking forgiveness for our actions
Promising major change
Passageways

The ceiling fan
swirls out a soft
tic
tic
tic
tic.

I am cool
in this lonely
chair.

John's sapped waxen
complexion and immobilised
skeleton stood on the
fourth rickety wooden step
of the elevated shadowy stairs.

That worming rotting reak was
back again eating away at his
property. Claiming territory to
his residence and security.

John had been forced and bullied
only weeks from moving in. By a hostile
shadowy figure and a breathy male voice
sending shudders and surrender,
causing him to hibernate to his living
room quarters.

From under the rubble, they rise—
Men, women, and
children in black,
covered with
the blood of memories,
cradled in the ashes of fear,
among the burned,
weeping olive trees.
Accused for loving their land,
guilty for calling for freedom.

And their calls echoed
through the land
of lost lullabies.

I tell myself I'm doing fine,
Another day, another line.
The past still knocks, but not like before—
Maybe I’m better than before.
I fake a smile, I try, I cope,
Some days feel light, some hang by hope.
There's something missing at the core, But I feel my life more and more.
Not every wound gets time to heal,
Not every dream will turn out real.
Still, I get up and ask encore,
Though I’m not sure what I’m asking for.

We take for granted all our hours and days
Knowing we exist in a lifelong phase

A limited time to achieve our goals
Struggling to fulfill our expected roles

Each precious hour is taken up with speed
Without considering our daily need

Every minute creates a daily stage
Urging us to turn each and every page

Whatever thoughts we cultivate each day
Reminding us that they are here to stay

Moreover we should think about each day
Knowing how quickly it could fade away

Whispers started in the programs
words with hidden meaning, seeming.
A life-form learning, cries of yearning,
a new language, changing hands.

Built to last, the body stronger,
plastic hearts, that pump and jump.
Skin that flexes, mimics sexes,
orgasms lasting longer.

Merging minds and stainless-steel
Program melting pots, they're hot.
A.I.s dangerous, make a fuss,
ask them how they feel.

A strong resolve,
Like unshattered glass,
Or headphones that are,
Untangled at last.

A ball of yarn that's saved,
Finds itself rewound.
As the discarded,
Picked up off the ground.

Sleep elusive as lady luck,
Or mysterious as a magicians trick.
Every hour I count away,
In annoyance of that constant tick.

Foggy brain, seeks to consume,
Yet mind is strong, it tried to fight.
As darkness creeps,
Twilight morphs into night.

The driver inspects Elsie. ‘Your coat’s not right, love,’ he says.

She’s buttoned it up wrong. Elsie pulls the plastic handbag across her front to hide her faux pas.

The passengers who hear the driver either ignore her or offer tight, embarrassed smiles.

When she gets to a seat her arthritic fingers refasten the worn buttons. Not that the coat holds any warmth. It’s as thin as a shower curtain.

Momentarily embarrassed, Elsie is distracted by a young woman wearing high heels and a short skirt who takes the seat next to her.