All writing

My bucket list near empty -- I'm a bore.
Been there, done that: the bane of my existence.
Gone, the incessant urge to ask for more.
Inertia, having won, meets no resistance.

My friends, well wishers all, they keep on trying.
Go on a date, have dinner, see a show.
I've even tried to tell them that I'm dying.
Well, none of us immortal, that I know.

My wife -- yes I am married -- plays Mahjong.
She has her friends, and seems to like the setup.
They've formed a choir, practicing a song.
Yes, even on a weekend, there's no letup.

Some thought perhaps I'll end with words of wisdom?
Don't have a fortune cookie to appease them.

Put 'em up, your toasty toes
What a day! We nearly froze
on the slopes, out in the snow.
Now the fire, its warm glow
is so comfy and so cozy
and our cheeks are rosy, rosy

Author notes: image from 2nproperties.ca

"argue not, my Argonaut..."
of course he'd no idea
but Jason vowing, anyhow
won't argue with Medea
instead he left, and she, bereft
did murder all their seeds
beware the fleece, Peloponnese
it leads to evil deeds

Waves crash, exhausted, foaming at the mouth.
My footprints turning into shallow graves.
So angry, the Atlantic. Further south,
some harbor the illusion it behaves

like always, but the churning sand can tell.
The hermit crabs, they too make their regrets
and hasten to avoid each coming swell.
Escape, that's if the surging ocean lets.

A lonely seagull grabs a plastic cup.
Triumphant, it will launch into the fray,
so confident it's had enough to sup.
The salty water helps it down its prey.

Walk over, and the waves regain their blues.
They're putting up new condos, ocean views.

I've tried to find myself
but like most men
I hate asking for directions

the GPS is of no help either
keeps saying I'm within walking distance
feels like I'm walking in circles

asked someone in a bar, once
you know what they told me
maybe I would...

except I don't know where I am

an act so sublime should be easy
the sun and the waves, wind is breezy
but he can't play his part
since he cannot get hard
the boat's motion making him queasy

Diogenes was ill at ease
to find an honest man
the candle grew too hot to handle
well, so much for his plan
had he a phone, I could have shown him
how to use its light
as I'm not selfish: take a selfie
see? there's one, all right

shorty wanna club
empty bottles, no more bub
yesterday's parties

with apologies to 50 Cent, my first rap haiku

I'm as blue as any spruce
though today I'm in disguise
don't need Sherlock to deduce
my red hat and bulging eyes
tend to give it all away
(but for the gifts, you have to pay)

Author notes: image from pinterest

It's easy to extoll the Rule of Law;
presumably not from a prison yard.
Imagine yourself there, though -- not that hard.
Does empathy allow for doubt to gnaw;
to dig into your soul, to grind, to claw,
to comprehend the meaning of "you're barred"
and subject to the mercies of a guard?
No easy milkshake sucked in through a straw.
Your life now plastic, you've forgotten glass,
and bells are not for school, from hell, those bells.
No frying pans but pens, those are your cells.
Enough? But do attend that Sunday Mass
Your church, so pretty, with that tall, tall spire.
Attend, as we all must, to stave off hellfire

craving attention
mastering masterpieces
glued to this painting

past imperfect
future tense
present present

having passed
into the past
future crescent

time is always
now and then
are just places

that the second hand
erases
erases