Black and White Memories

Sunday morning
I could smell the scent of church perfume
Nan must have just left
Pop is cooking me eggs and mmm…eggs like no others
special
for me
he loved it
taking his time, trying not to break the yolk
my thing, his thing, our thing
then I appeared
through the kitchen archway
straight to the table and that inside chair
my spot til university
pop’s service was top-notch
always repeating no more
then you turn the tiny knob
on the black and white tiny old TV
cracks of static at first
our favorite show flickers and plays on
it must be ten o’clock now
because the sun is stretching through the window
reaching the rocking chair
where pop is sitting in listen
here’s to adventure
here’s to romance
here’s the Cisco kid
not a word is spoken
souls in harmony
time in quantity
a moment in quality
memories of black and white
bring me the most colour

Turn Around and Let Me See You

I cannot believe that it’s you
you’re different
you seemed just like me up to a point
now you’re someone else… but not you
I think that and I don’t want to
your life is a sweet story and I have some of those pages
I would love to share them with you if you have the time
the real you
the one in my thoughts
my memories
my dreams
we are still connected you know
and I feel you sometimes
it might be a random smile I get
or a warm feeling all over
you too I bet
that’s the universe saving us for another day
storing our true feelings for each other
where nobody else can find them
I know that and I know that you know that
so, until another day

Beaten Heart – Haiku

Photo by Keegan Houser on Pexels.com

My heart beats loudest
for someone no longer there
keeping me alive

Unfather’s Day

Photo by Tomé Louro on Pexels.com

Today, I don’t want to exist.
Tomorrow is fine, but not today.
Today, I don’t deserve anything.
I hate the happiness, I hate the gift ideas.
I hate the attempts to cheer me up from friends and family.
I hate cards, I hate phone calls, I hate the internet.
I hate robbing my stepfather from his day, I’m so damn sorry.
I hate Sundays, I hate barbecues, I hate gatherings and music.
I hate being called something I’m not, stop telling me different.
Stop!!! It only encourages me and I lie to myself again.
I’m not a Dad a son or daughter wishes were still with us.
I’m not a Dad a son or daughter celebrates beating Cancer.
I’m not a Dad a son or daughter begs freed from behind bars.
I’m not even a Dad a son or daughter forgives for his mistakes.
I’m not a Dad…and I have all the scars to prove it.

Bike Writer # 22 – Let That Person Inside Blossom!

Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light. – Theodore Roethke

One Ray of Sun

ray of sun.jpg
Just one ray of sun can melt it all away,
make it right, make it ok.

Embrace like before with meaning and feel,
something I forgot was actually once real.

The static between can easily be gone,
takes simply understanding, not brains nor brawn.

Bring it back from where we left it in the dark.
Let’s let all the light in, all I need is your heart.