Suffering So Little . . . Really

My body feels like it is surging with electricity,
My lower back racked in continuing spasticity,
My tonicity confused by an inner complexity,
Could it be toxicity that so disturbs my felicity?
So very weary and yet too leery of physicians;
Yet such an awesome autumn day to blossom
In mind and spirit despite the bind of the body;
And shall I complain of pain? There is no gain;
Some whining words will only drive me insane
And nothing change within my physical range;
No, ice is nice on my back and lack of medicine
Is the sad position of many in my ill condition,
And so many in such situations far, far worse!
Oh, and age could account for this awful stage,
But how many more are older and yet bolder
Than I? And with this, shall I die and fly away?
No, no . . . This is not the day; here shall I stay
And make my way as best I can . . . thankfully!


Choose What is Really You

Three kegs of weak beer or one bottle of fine wine?
You may choose and lose either way,
But what will you have won in the choice you’ve made?
Artificial flowers forever bloom in the gloom of death,
But only the living ones have life but this means strife:
Which will you purchase?
What is forever worthless or that with timely purpose?
You can look at neon lights mesmerized
But compromised in beauty plagiarized
From moon and stars in their soft, bright ‘n warm light;
You can watch nature scenes on your glowing screen,
Or you can take pleasure in an adventure
Into the treasure of the genuine . . . up close ‘n personal!
Sham pearls make a conveniently nice vice,
But they only cover the beauty to discover inside of you;
So what will you choose?
Whatever it is, there is always something to lose, but . . .
What will you have gained in the choice you’ve made?
Give voice now to reason and choose what is true . . .
Choose what is really you!

Don’t Stay! Play!

You’re sitting on the sidelines waiting to play the game
But your name is never called
You’re dressed and ready, steady on your feet
And you listen to the drum beat
But you’re told to take your seat
Though you can bear the heat;
You’re wild but tame with child’s heart in an adult frame,
But all remains the same for you as you watch and wait;
Fate has dealt you a mighty boring blow for the show!
And so you still sit on the sidelines ready for the game
But your name is never called . . .
Why yield? Why not just up and rush the field and play?
Why not make this your day when you refuse to stay put?
Up, then, and out onto the field and . . .

Get Messy and Dance!

Reality can be a real drag
While all the details nag
And folks wag the tongues
And you have to zig-zag
But you still lag behind
With ne’er reason to brag

Well, then . . . get messy and dance!
Whirl and twirl, prance and dance!
Just get downright goofy ‘n dance!

Just take that break
For your own sake
And have some cake
Along with the steak
And add a shake, too!
Just don’t you be blue!

Now, then . . . get messy and dance!
Whirl and twirl, prance and dance!
Just get downright goofy ‘n dance!

Yeah! Be messy ‘n goofy and dance!

Note: For this joyful, playful piece I thank my blogger friend, Tanya, specifically her most recent blog, “Oh my. . .