The Best Words*

You know, it really doesn’t matter

what the media write

as long as you have a young,

and beautiful, piece of –


As everyone knows,

but the haters and losers

refuse to acknowledge, my hair

may not be perfect,

but it’s mine – My fingers

are long and beautiful, as are various parts

of my body. The beauty of me

is that I’m very rich – it’s tangible,

it’s solid, it’s beautiful, it’s artistic,

and, from my standpoint, I just love

real estate.


My friends say,

I have the best words –

Whenever I’m making

a creative choice, I step back

and remember

my first shallow reaction. The day

I realized

it can be smart to be shallow

was, for me, a deep experience.


Good people

don’t go into government –

Sometimes by losing a battle

you find a new way

to win the war.


* Poem composed of Donald Trump quotes



The sum of a life in a flash of painful wisps,

a collection of shattered memories splinter the soul,

haunting memories you’d rather forget.


Where there is life, there must also be darkness,

and where there is joy, there is pain.


The sounds, the smells, the last words scar;

the ignorant beeping of a heartless monitor,

the touch of cold skin in a silent room.


Last moments, small and simple at the time.

Just another day.

Yet the mind yells in anguish, pleading to stop-

warning of incoming danger disguised with a lie.


I’m fine, she smiles, her airy laugh forcing me

to fake a smile as well.

Last impressions- we had the same haircut,

disobeying the doctor’s orders

as she leaned forward and shook hers around playfully.


False hope, misunderstood messages-

The surgery went well, a surge of relief

that would soon crash down,

drown us all, and we would welcome it.

Life support, they call it,

when it’s time to say goodbye. No hope,

no laughter, just silence as the air pumps out one

last time.

The loss cuts deep and leaves its scars,

but at least it’s over, as life moves on for some.


One year later, a cell phone rings-

and it is from then on I fear

its shrill cry, whispers of incoming doom,

as I hold my breath and wait for bad news.


What? mother answers- she’s talking to dad,

I know her expressions and her every tone. Her face changes,

causing my heart to still and anxiety to pound  

a beat in my skull.

Bullshit. She rolls her eyes,

and mutters Jackass,

convinced my dad is fooling around.

But her face falls again,

and she sets the phone aside.

Pa had a heart attack-

she finally comes out with it,

but I had already known

the expression of loss.


And this time, it’s worse,

so much worse-

no false hope, no goodbyes,

just a blink and he’s gone.


It’s better that you didn’t see him,

you can remember him as he was.


Sure, it’s better- now I can pretend:

he’s Up North, with Auntie,

and I’m left here,

with the ghosts etched on my skin.


Ring of gold,

Worn with age.

Heirloom of a past

flame of unity.

obituary of love, a

remembrance of history.

elegant silver casting

vibrant shining gleams,

eternal and everlasting, it

restores forgotten memories.

Destiny’s greatest endeavor, a

Legacy of love, their

Bond lasts forever.


To a Little Bird Named Phil

Dear Phil,

as you flutter around,

I wanted to thank you

for sticking around.

Though the nights held a chill,

and the wind kept you down,

You stayed by my porch,

and circled the seed on the ground.

Now even though I’m far

from that l’il pile of seed,

I can still hear in my heart,

your little “Chickedee-dee-dee-dee”

Meaning or no meaning

Simple or a maze of riddles

Imagination or reality

A sea of words or very little.

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