Life, Really?

LIFE DOES END
by R. Grieves

Life, they say, is for the living,
but it's such an illusive thing.
They say that life's is ever giving,
With the daily "presents" it does bring.

I will not argue that it's not true,
But what of the future and the past
And why must death be our just due?
If life's so great, why can't it last?

Do I sound bitter? Well I am sad.
From seeing loved ones gone.
For most, their ends were very bad
A most unpleasant moving on.

No matter how long since they've been dead
I miss them everyday.
And there are some, I know, will dread
The day death ends my stay.

Could I choose, I would not go.
For loved ones and work, I'd stay,
But the poor, unhappy plan,
Has taken my choice away.  

Night Life

Night Life, by Janet Muirhead Hill

A whole nother life, I live you see
When I am sleeping peacefully
A life of which I've not control
And yet I live there, heart and soul.

I immerse myself in what's going on
Until I wake, and then it's gone.
A dream journal, I do not keep
I just enjoy the life I have in sleep,

Adventures of all kinds and places
Known only in dreams: great open spaces
Houses with a million rooms
Nooks and crannies the size of tombs.

Sometimes I'm driving in a car
Or walking naked on a lonely bar.
Horses, birds and mythical creatures
Talk to me; become my teachers

I enjoy the life I live at night
Which slowly fades with the morning light.
For it takes some time when I awake
To determine which life is mine to make.

Resolutions

New Years Resolutions, by R. Grieves

New Year's resolutions?
Not making them this year,
For in mere months, sometimes days
I break them, that is clear.

Instead I'm setting goals
That are possible to achieve.
Things I want that I can control,
If only I believe.

I'm shunning rules full of don'ts
or promises I cannot keep
Like don't eat that, you will get fat.
Work harder; get more sleep.

Clean your houses and organize,
Be careful what you eat.
Instead I set this goal for me:
Be kind to everyone I meet.

And when it comes daily tasks
I'll give my very best
But will not flagellate myself
 If it seems I failed the test.

Sure, my days are numbered.
That's how it's always been
But I am here, and this is now
I'll live the day I'm in.

Life's Choices, a poem by Janet Muirhead Hill and the Rimers

I'm thankful for the inner muse I call my "rimers" whose voices I hear in rhyming rhythm when I'm not too busy to listen.
Here is a scribbled poem from an old notebook. 

Over, under, around and through
direction in life is up to you.
Circumnavigate the globe
or sit at home and pull your lobe.

Meet the challenges head on straight
or crawl beneath the bed and wait.
How you react to circumstances
depends on readiness to take chances.

Listening to inner or outside voices
will influence the way you make your choices.
Whatever they be, you'll keep being taught
by the consequences of the choices you've bought.

Through time and trial and introspection
life will teach you truth detection
until you learn the best thing to do
is to your own soul be ever true.
                                                                                                                                                                             

Death and Dead Emotions

Having lost my dear sister and best friend last year, I'm at a loss of how to feel as I see another best friend, my editor, and mentor for more than fifteen years approach the end of life and enter hospice care. I wrote this poem in an attempt to express my reaction to this news.

Grief?

Sorrow sits upon the shelf
High above my head.
Unwilling to look inside myself,
I avoid what I most dread.

And so I find I do not feel,
My mind and body, numb.
The source of pain seems so unreal
That tears refuse to come.

For facing another loss to death
Is much too hard to do.
And so I find I hold my breath
And wish more life for you.

Dearest friend, I love you so
I'm loathe to say goodbye
But I see that you will sometime go,
And in time, I know I'll cry.
 

Insomnia

What keeps you awake at night? Most often when I can't sleep, it's because I am unhappy with myself. It's lying there wishing I'd said or done something other than what I did in a particular situation. And replaying the danged scenario over and over in a million different ways, imagining a better outcome. All for naught, of course, except to keep me awake all night. I'm thankful that these sleepless nights are far less frequent than they used to be. Maybe I'm learning to count blessings instead.


INSOMNIA
by Janet Muirhead Hill

Sometimes when we cannot sleep

We lie there counting silly sheep

But usually we’re counting should’ves,

What-if-I-hads, and wish-I-would’ves.

Words we’ve spoken and those not said

Ruefully, we replay in our head.

Hindsight gives us such clear vision

That in our thoughts, we seek revision.

Yet life has no button to re-record

And deeds once done have their reward.

For better or worse when a thing is done

It can’t be rewritten for anyone.

The best we can do as we count regrets

Is to learn a lesson and pay our debts.

Another poem slipped out of my mind onto paper. It's about writer's block. Nothing fancy or profound. Just fun rhyming.

Writer's blocks do happen,
at least they do to me.
Yet when they do, I don't know why,
It is a mystery.

I wonder why I cannot make
myself sit down and write.
What is the thing that stops my mind
and holds the block so tight?

And then a day will come along,
just as mysteriously
when I can sit and write and write,
words flowing fast through me.

I don't know what the reasons are.
There is no common thread
I only know I love the days
when stories fill my head

and I am teleported
to a land of make believe
as I pen upon the page
the words that I receive.