Posts for June 4, 2026 (page 14)

Roll out the bed
Feet on the floor
Head to the grindstone
Hands on those knots

                I’m watching this early onset
                Beauty and her toddler son
                And her biker husband
                And her laser eyed mom
                post content on her demise

Third gear, pump and burn
standing jogs, up and up
a hill I made for myself, leg drive, B12
    My spin instructor yells 
    The hearst is undefeated, 
           but not today. 

                She’s laughing about losing
                words, no antibiotics, no tubes
                just comfort, just lip gloss
                Today I lost it, she said, laughing

Churning checkbook
Balancing beam
Steady and go over the top 
Hustling all the way 

                She looks for answers (from God?)
                How someone so young, so useful,
                so needed, someone still moving 
                be caught like this and brought down

By the same gravity
    that holds me here
    cussing at the lawn,
    pulling the cans in
    from the curb, crazed

Recent medical studies of dying patients report brain activity persists in bursts from minutes to hours after human hearts have stopped beating. Regions of the brain where these bursts occur suggest remembering to be the last thing we do.

the space between death
and the conclusion of life
what is to be seen

morning hubbub
cup of joe conversate and embryos
sit in caverns your eyes bore through

brunchcapades
no seatbelt nor switch signaling
first in line for nowhere in particular

early dinner
eyes settle on-screen apps instead of intimacy
and you never asked me if you were worth it to leave

When the mind no longer holds beliefs –
some other power moves it.
It’s called

LOVE

I never rest

An electric buzzing behind my eyes keeps me up

Nightmares rouse me from my sleep

And put burning in my sinuses

None of this feels real

What’s the point

Of reality

When my life is lived at zero or a hundreds

A light switch

On and off

Life then death

Higher than the mountaintops

Or in the deepest ocean trench

I can’t keep doing this

It’s scaring me

Tearing me limb from limb

All to pull me back together again

Tethered to the notion of normal

It’s always something with me

Until it’s not

A carousel

Starting

To stop

Just to start again

The cycle of life

Everything is so simple

And yet too complex to wrap my head around

Nothing will never end

Until it does

decisions are my least favorite
especially the bigs
today is a day for a big

stay, go, maintain, establish
the verbs are competing, a tournament fielded in my mind
I go through the steps, the conversations
family, trusted colleagues
the people who know and care
I ask God for signs, and he whispers he’s been sending them for a while
I smile as I recollect

I consider whether too much of this book has been devoted to an ending
is it time for an altogether new storyline
duty though, the struggle I cling to as if the world is mine to repair
it is not though, plain and simple

evidence reveals truth
the revelation, though intuitive is based upon facts
today will become another day in a year
as well as the day I decided

Were you trying to 

I stand up too fast.
My blood-starved brain floods
with panic until my heart
can catch back up.  But

the sensation doesn’t go away
after a few steps. I cling
to the nearest support, will
the floodwaters back for

twenty seconds, now thirty.
Each successive tick a
warning that something is 
really wrong. I think back

to my mother, who fell while
walking, and when checked found
a brain tumor hiding where
they couldn’t get to it.

Urgency for emergency, to
raise an alarm, until the
feeling finally subsides.
I test my two feet for walking,

find that they can and set off,
slowly forgetting I felt death
close in for a short time, then
walk away as if nothing had happened.