May all your by and bys be sweet


those were the days, in

Russian Dorogoj dlinnoju

around Formica table

mem'ry muted gray- blue


a doll-sized dwelling 

cramped trailer home

tiny shtetel paradise

micro, but all our own 


blowing kisses at the wind

making love and holy vow

promises to the future

benediction on the now


enough was a bounty

no room to store much

got by well on basics

lots of laughter and such


sad times there were, plus

mad with some bad

but boisterous joy was

mostly what we had


like the Lady of Shallot

the doom came only

when gloom was allowed 

to squat there rent-free


in a time when excess

was something to strive for

we enjoyed much muchness

behind our torn screen door


our abundance was us

such riches to behold

what larks, Pip, had we

a king's ransom untold 


I won't end on cant

Nor judgey sermon preach

but I will say joy

is well within reach


it lives in little things

nestles with the smalls

it's about priceless moments 

not what hangs on walls


May you find as we

deep gestalt bliss 

May you revel in

pure and kindly reminisce


May by and by's be sweet

May you take as you find

may the road greet you 

blest be the ties that bind










 

Who is me? No, seriously


When you look on past times
what is it that you see?
when I go back to back then
all I see is empty

No seriously. there is no thing
I recall with continuity
in my foggy effogged up
Forgotten memory

littered busted driftwood
Like Lake Michigan shore 
sacrificed on campfire show
woodland gods seen no more

campfire other kids enjoy
Me ever seeing, never seen
never heard till she screams 
and is hoarse from crying

scolded for saying
Feeling, needing, being
daring to exist after
her memory was wiped

of good clean memories
leaving only bad left to me
memory of the child erased
Tossed with the Christmas tree

For a kid who's been round the block
I contain so much within
I've been in so many places 
and so many places live in me

no evidence I was there
I never seem to stick
no address to call mine
no DNA baked in brick

The OG AI spirit digital
No bricks and mortar me
footprint-less, hands-free life
Incognito window to see

hacked, identity theft victim
Drive wiped but for the virus
poison lives in just me
And in what I have done to us

no picture on the wall 
Once but now all gone 
Landfill fodder now 
It's all gone and done

cataloging others' selves
Reaching out longing arms
Reaching arms touch empty
And then you just give up

never making contact with 
those that reach out to me
The perpetual disconnect
Guess it's what I'm supposed to be 

beamed up then forgotten
soul failed reintegration
behind two-way mirror trapped
So much for the great generation

a cyborg, an entity not permitted
humanity where the dream 
world is more real than 
reality. 


Lady of Cellophone


there's hunger and hunger

one will be filled soon

the other gnaws forever 

in a broken blue moon


I thirst for a love

that never shall be

the love of parents was

always denied to me


Hid with no one seeking

Lost and forever unfound

to transparent self-image

I'm quintessentially bound


That's how I see me 

hidden in plain sight 

don't know why or how

kept blinded by dark light


Mrs. Cellophane by name

and I can see right thru 

clearly no point to me

Can you see thru me too? 


All my innards on view

faults and failings on display

Vulnerabilities exposed 

to sun-scorching day 


Where are the parents 

with the hat and sunscreen

to protect the little child 

making sure she's safe and seen?







 


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