Peanut Butter and Grape Kool aid

Cool breeze from the fan
Is too cold for my skin
My body starts to ache

News reports from my laptop
Debt ceiling, shutdown, Obama care
Is all reporters talk about

In this dark dim room
Glowing red
From my black mini lamp

My first granddaughter
Sits by my side
Her head rests on my breast

Few minutes earlier
She was hyperactive
Playing Beyoncé on my iPad

My four feet walking cane
As if a microphone
She sings "1+1"

crucible
and ruin

rise the strain of stars
the stain of wraiths
like ghost nymphs
and number chancers

the sea shall swallow
all her tears
and atrocities

the sun will
crush
the ruin
in dust
and dunes make
the speaking
tongues
by haunted
quiet pools
miraged
the Ju Ju
song

Oh, why sell yourself
For a fraction of your worth
Are you filled with doubt
tell me so i can save you
from that deceptive darkness

I called on the northern star
To lighten up your sky
When You sulk away
It gives me an urge
to silence the voice
you listen to

You say,that your a failure
Look at that bookshelf
three books by a nobody
Is impossible, you hear me
Or should I raise the volume

This poem
called on me
today.

Only two words
came
to ask if I would
like to
play,

Let
Love...

Yes, just
Let
and
Love...

Your heart
can write the rest.

I'm too busy
dancing.

Today the weather suits my mood
as doubts assail and old knees ache
and each direction I have viewed
drips, it seems, for the past's sake

The sky of unremitting gray
which sadly cries for today's youth
the wind which barely makes limbs sway
somehow they seem to be aloof

And colored wet leaves on the trees
are all aware that they'll soon fall
destined to fade and thus appease
the yearning of the winter's call

I need to look at days gone by
To see if there are things that I
Have missed in my every day
Things at work and then at play

Do you know the things I miss?
A stolen look, that long soft kiss
The talks of love and other things
The friends I had, then my siblings

Things that may seem every day to you
To me they are lost, I can never renew.
It is an age thing I hear you faintly say
If I turn my hearing aid up all the way

Limbs lie frozen
Moonlight twirls
Wind plays
Shallow symphonys
Calm night
Something new
Dark shadow
Presence strong
Flowing quietly
Hovers close
Reaches
Takes Arm
No longer
Afraid.

and perhaps you know not still tis digital kids

my brain is made of golden chips
that's why that alone works mostly...
hold one...
will you
and
then someone will say
a diamond one is now on ..
whose
will be news....

the chip will ask a question
is it now on?
or
diamond slow down
better on than off ...

so digital God gave a hint
one for that
and
zero we can't say
we all know not

hence one and a dot
keep fixing a lot...

Winds ferociously growl
with weather most awfully foul.
some trees buckle and bend in the sway,
blown by the blustery day.

The sky is overdressed,
with swaddles of cotton soft pressed
churning clouds of rumble and tumble
‘til water sluices crumble.

Pouring buckets to earth
that skip into puddles of mirth,
falling down from the heavens in pelts,
drum beating watery welts.

Until all is unhinged
and vapours are beautifully tinged
with vermilion dazzling drops.
after the torrid rain stops.

“Alfred Digit” a Summary of his papers passed on to me a month or so ago.
They are taken from the diaries of a school chum I use to know.
I have written these mostly in the third person as it would explain the whole sequence of his later life

"Digit" Pt 1
He tore at the flesh as the screams subsided
the poor fool’s world and his had just collided
A short walk that was all there was to extinction
another flesh crazed attack his mark of distinction