Death Never Goes Away

What with all of the
Death and dying,
Moaning, wailing
People crying,
Bodies never found
Or less,
A bomb goes off
A bloody mess.

Is it better?
To find the remains,
Self-inflicted
The skull and brains,
Blasted on the
Walls and ceiling,
I'd rather not
There's too much feeling.

A plane goes missing
No bodies found,
A murdered spouse
Buried in the ground,
Decomposition
Oh, where did they go?
Insects and vermin
They might know.

The end result
Oh, it's the same,
Our time on earth
Is like a picture frame,
A snapshot of life
Poof!... then we're gone,
Pushing up daisies
At Forest Lawn.

Although we seem pretty smart
We don't appear to learn,
That our existence is but
A simple turn,
On the chessboard of life
There's a beginning and end,
Really, no surprises
So why pretend,
And similarly
The crying and wailing,
Attachment and memories
That's our failing.

Fibril_late;
3/28/14

Grape Cleanse

Most of the old remedies, now described as "folk medicine", have been replaced by Pharmaceutical pills and potions, that are no better (and commonly worse) than what our ancestors knew to work. Just take a look at the list of ingredients on your average pill. Fillers and colors, preservatives and toxic unknowns. As kids, if constipation was an issue, down the hatch would go either the Castor Oil, or a glass of water with Magnesium salts. Or maybe your momma had you chew some Senna leaves. Well, a good South American Merlot can do the same...........just like Welch's grape juice, but frankly, more enjoyable (in my opinion).

Grape Cleanse

I drank a bottle of Merlot

Full disclosure?, my intent,

To correct a bloated condition

It was money well spent,

Washing my innards

With grape juice from Brazil,

Worked better than any old

Advertised pill.

Smooth with each swallow

And a buzz to go along,

A gentle washing of the gut

Yes, that’s the Merlot song

Fibril_late;

3/24/14

Over and Over and More

There’s a tilt-a-swirl
Inside my gut,
No matter if
I starve or glut,
It started nine
Long months ago,
Though I think it’s better
Improvement is slow.

There’s a roller coaster
In my colon,
Whenever I eat
Boy, things get rolling,
Up and down
Round and round,
Where it all ends
It will come with a sound

Fart!, I do
With regularity,
Sweet and pleasant?
That's a rarity,
I sleep at night
With my butt aimed west,
So, my bystander wife
Can breathe and rest.

Surely, it's better
Every month that passes,
Although with every meal
There's bloating and gasses,
Which beats diarrhea
Or that problem, constipation,
If one watches the news
That's the problem in this nation.

There's a rock and roll world
In my G.I. tract,
Which I try to hide
It's a daily act,
Concealing the issues
Inherent with methane,
Don't light a match
Or, we'll all be in pain,
And when the ambient odor
Reminds one of a cow,
You'll know I'm around
Not later, right now.

Fibril_late;
3/19/14

Sorority

MEN........we represent a minority in the Nursing workforce. There have been gender stereotypes and labelling over the years, and certainly many misconceptions, but probably the whole battle of the sexes nonsense or sex in the workplace magnetism, is the crux of most conflict. I suppose in the end, just like the "House of Cards", it's all about power.

Sorority

There are things of fantasy

In the duration of career,

New people arrive

One might flirt

Adore and leer,

After all, I'm in a business

As a 10 percent minority,

Just the same as a guy

Pledging a Sorority.

It's true, I'm telling you

Like Dachshunds in heat,

We're a firm minority

And as paramour's we're beat,

Because we are expected

To work right along side,

Gorgeous, beautiful chicks

Who will be someone else's bride.

It's still going on

Oh yes, I can assure,

Promotion of the young

If they're sexy. and endure,

Sure, they have to be bright

As in, the preservation of the species,

And like the rest of us veterans

They just have to love, feces.

Because that is the origin

Of the Underside of nursing,

All that crap we put up with

In spite of our cursing,

Like it was previously laid out

Way back when, by this writer,

In nineteen-ninety two

When things lookied so much brighter.

That was 22 years ago

And this writer grew older,

Still expounding the same message

Albeit, a little bolder,

Because I'll be retiring

A couple of years down the line,

Younger guys, just like me

Must choose and assign.

Sure, this might sound sexist

But WE are the minority,

And those females will decide

Exactly, who is in the Sorority.

Fibril_late;

3/19/14