I was Thinking, or Not

  Dim Jump Thumb Tiny man with tiny  plans Where are you going to run to When the game comes to an end What will you do then tiny man Gilded cage Set the stage Justice waits Outside the door All the power in the world Will not save you from yourself Bleeding from your brain You can not keep your lies straight When it ends as it always does Will you pay the piper appropriately Or will you take the coward’s way Perhaps sooner than you anticipate Given all that you have set to play Time is closing in on your game Pink Ladies in pink champagne Is a quiet way out of this nightmare JD

  Carry The Day Over The way back to the places I’ve been Is so littered with the trash I’ve tried hard to forget There is no home to find my ground When it is all washed away in the coming flood Time ticks away like a grist mill Churning my bones to coarse dust Leaving me with only the memories Of what might have been and never was I would give a thousand tomorrows For one moment more with you A peace that I will never again feel Is all that I can want for you anymore What remains of the future is ours to take We will fly on that westward wind one day Through the purple skies into the azure skies Where the dreams are particular and succinct All those past that have passed before Are gone and dried up wet scenes I am still standing by the door Holding onto the handle when you come on through JD Jun 3, 2025

 From the Farm More Than Enough to Do Time has come to do the things that need being done The gardens wet and untilled await my work And the chickens must be moved to their summer grazing There is so much that needs to be done And the weather is not cooperative yet It is warm and pleasant today And we may have a tornado tomorrow So much is left undone yet No barn built, no pastures fenced in No new coop, no hutch fixed I am so far behind, no getting ahead If only I had more of me to go around One to fix the inside things One to prettify the front yard And at least one to tend the gardens I would still be behind on too much I would still not get to the grass out back I would still not get to the shed clean outs I would still have more than enough to do JD

  From the Dead I surround myself in death To feel like I’m still living Though it is but one breath That divides the living From the dead

Bloody Margarita They all beg for mercy I give them no quarter As pretty as they may be They hold no interest to me A moments entertainment Nothing more, nothing less Just a passing phase A brief interlude they say Silence is all that I ask Kept them quiet in a box They never seem to stay All of them must go away Vodka mixed with the blood A bloody Mary or was it Tim Too soon they all coagulate There is not enough in one JD 

  Death’s Bloody Drum This is a work in progress.  Most of the pieces are all raw unedited and still will need some work to finish them properly.  No one cares, I know that, but there it is anyway. I have no date for release, but the drafts are here, there and everywhere, just waiting to be polished and packaged and put up for sale, someday. JD

  Another Jane I am on the bus to nowhere And she slips in beside me Her lithe frame barely there Her dress is tattered and torn She tries to smile Her sadness remains No I don’t know her name Just another lost soul She gets off at the next stop Shuffles along the aisle The driver seems annoyed I step up and pay her fare I sit back in my seat Watching her disappear I think of her sometimes When I feel I’ve had enough When life gets me down When if seems a waste I think of her half smile The sadness contained Never seen her again Likely dead in some alleyway Buried in a potter's grave Another nameless Jane JD

  Art of Blood Sports Never served, too many already eating that grit My daddy was a nurse, general’s aide forever PFC Found out later, he really was a dandy man Made no difference to me, I didn’t score that play Knew too many that ate blood guts and gore Smiled with rotted teeth, scars that do not heal Smell of cheap whiskey with cloudy eyes Streets are full of the forgotten heroes dying alone I’ve known my own hell too Though self constructed Just as real to me you see As age has taken most of my capacity Them are all gone Time is not kind The wheel grinds Their memories fade And still old fat bastards play games Churn the milk of human kindness Not sweet cream butter for bread But rotting bodies on the killing fields JD

  Pass by Me Why am I still here Just a battered ram Battered to the bone Converted to a mule Not a very good one at that With a sway back Hobbled legs and matted mane Still I force myself to remain To try to achieve anything While I watch death dance I wonder why she passes me by JD

  The Whole I am digging a hole in the ground Where I can lay my body down So, I do not have to deal With the grinding of the wheel And everything dying around me For there is no more left in me No more tears to cry No more to care for Just an empty haul That is no longer whole 41025 JD

Network, network, network, that is what they tell me. I am so far away from that anymore. Just trying to get through the day. Morning comes much too early, and my work begins with sorting out the animals.  Feed the rabbits and the chickens, make sure their water is still clean, Then I try to do some housework, it is all so overwhelming I just want to throw it all out, start over again. We have chicks, but the numbers are so disheartening. Just four out of 18 eggs hatching, not really good results, but I guess that says all there is to say about me. I will have to work harder. I will have to keep going. Day after day, as I feel the death all around me. I don't even know what I am saying anymore. I've gotten off the train, but my thoughts are still sailing.