Year Twenty-nine

April 2, 2017
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29 years today, Veronica and me.
We hitched our wagon to a shining dream,
Endured the jumping, bumping roads,
Held fast at winds that rocked our sides,
Each taking turns with firm-held reins
When at a climb the other baulked.
And still each day we greet as one
And each still evening share our song
To fill each other’s sorrowed moments
Up to the brim with steadfast love.
On as one, a trust in each secured
We’ll hold our hearts as long as we can breathe,


The Jeremy Kyle Show

April 11, 2012
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Bare and mixed-up, chafing lives that kiss and slap,
not ripples gently sidling to the sand to lap
contentedly, but more a rapid river tract
inexorably crashing through from rock to rock.
And here they are, unhappy band with rocks for hearts
blurting out their twisted rants in fits and starts.

He’s been unfaithful and he’s lying through his teeth
and she’s distraught because his life’s beyond belief.
He must have been untrue because the kids aren’t his!
She loves his brother and it’s put her in a tis.
He’s had her mom and sister in his pick-up truck.
They weren’t aware of anything, he couldn’t believe his luck.

Male aggression meets a female low esteem.
Dominator without feeling feeds a primal scream.
Shameless faces, scandals and disgraces grate,
exfoliating their attachments to their fate
and to the masses waiting on another’s ills,
much worse than theirs, so obviating bitter pills.