Cooking

I’ve lost my love of cooking

last two nights I ate thick

juicy strip steaks on the 

grill cooked by my daughter

avocado as side with lemon 

I rarely eat meat, tonight I 

feel empowered, interesting

what do they put in that meat

or is it natural for carnivores to

glut on bloody red steak

Purple

T’is the color of The Alzheimer’s Association

I don’t remember if they said how they chose

it, perhaps like wounded veterans, a similarity 

a connection to the mind boggling war of

a mind disease that makes one a prisoner

It is unjust, there should be treatments if not

cures!  We have men on the moon!  Why not?

To see a mind wasting away, a once brilliant

mind, though any mind should not have to go

this sad, horrific way.  WHY NO DRUGS?

No drugs to at least slow the disease, why no

drugs to cure the disease”  In ten years perhaps

a crisis as baby boomers start coming in 

in alarming numbers, Alzheimer’s, a disease

of aging  can bring the world to its knees 

Step up world, country, city, village, step up!

Check the statics and step up for yourselves

for your parents, for your kids, for your spouse

There is something array, something wrong

and the medical community is silent!

I Clicked in Here to Write a Poem

Nothing is coming to me
nothing at all, each day lonely
each day guilty, each day sad

Each day more peaceful
less stress but lonely and sad
each day more guilty

Not taking him home again
I can't do it all anymore and
I feel guilty and mean

I sit

In the glow of my monkey light
it is nice to be connecting in verse
life is rife  with connections we are
blessed with

The world is changing, I'm not sure of
how the shift is going

Calling out!

Hungry

Hungry

I am hungry

it builds in me

something is nagging at me

My hunger is stimulating as it

builds in me  rising like bread

I love the full feeling

Yet, I miss the emptiness   

a balance where I let go  find

peace  letting go

What Shall I Call Her

No one knew her like I knew her

on the surface sweet  kind

commiserative

Below the surface she shocked 

her anger hurricane force words

whipped any victim 

It was hard for her to be

my mother  hard for me to be

her daughter

I did not stand down at all and

it ankled her to no end

it ankled me that I ankled her

No longer wanting to be

like her, my Mother who

I would hope to represent

We were two different people

I like to think my daughter and I

are on the same page, much closer

I only have my perspective

My Mother

My Daughter

I