I wrote this for my nephew/Godson who was hit by a drunk driver while riding his bike two days after his 15th birthday. He was brain dead at impact, which I didn’t know when the first responders called me by running down names in his cell phone trying to find someone to meet them at the hospital. I guess he had me listed as Aunt Kristin, so I was toward the top. They kept him on life support for about 6 hours to harvest his organs, something that does still bring us comfort. To be honest, he was a troubled young man, but had become an incredibly gifted drummer and was to attend a performing arts high school that September. He had played with several really famous bands. (I actually forget all of them but I know KISS sent a giant flower arrangement. I have pictures of him with the bands, but that’s not really the point.) Anyway, I don’t love the rhythm of this, but it’s an emotional subject for me. Any suggestions would be welcome.


On a hot, hazy, lazy summer day
You rode off, head back, laughing and went away
Your life, so fragile, had only just begun
But you, destined for stardom, rode straight into the sun

Our tears ran slowly from our aching eyes
You were far too young to leave our sides
We’re just mortals, frozen, standing on the ground
Mourning, Aching to feel your presence around

When the winds whip and the thunder roars
Is that you drumming with the angels for the Lord
Do your sticks still fly but now through heavenly air
So here on earth your music can be shared

Can you see us, out there, wherever you are
Is that you, shining bright, from that shooting star
Is it peaceful and happy far away from us there
Can you hear us, when we talk to you, in our prayers

Maybe you were just too good for this earth
Nothing can compare now to what you were worth
Left to rant and rave, its crazy but it’s true
I thought, somehow, the music would save you

When the winds whip and the thunder roars
Is that you drumming with the angels for the Lord
When the winds rest and the sun shines on for miles
We know you were sent as a gift for just a while
The music and memories you left here make us smile
We’ll see you in a while
Until then, we’ll think of you and smile
And see you in a while

I made this poem into a song, as well. People have said it’s sad, but I think it’s empowering. And I think, with music, it will be a damn good song. I think of it as a kind of #metoo song.

When the dreams come
Even during the day
Then it’s time to
Pack those memories away

Keep your back up
Like you can’t fall
If it’s you
Just go numb
Feel nothing at all

The pain , I know, is crippling
It’ll eat you up alive
Don’t you allow it
Listen to me now
I know you’ll survive

Don’t show emotion
Don’t even let them in
Never cry
Because that’s how they win

When the dreams come
In the dead of night
Just remind yourself
You put up one hell of a fight

They’ll point fingers
Don’t rub your wounds with their salt
They’ll try to place blame
But listen to me now
This was not your fault

The pain , I know, is crippling
It’ll eat you up alive
Don’t you allow it
Listen to me now
I know you’ll survive

I stand with you
I grieve with you
But most of all, know
I believe you

The pain, I know, is crippling
But you’ve already arrived
The tides of change are rippling
You’ve already survived

Listen to me now
Listen to me now
Listen
You don’t have to despair
That your soul won’t repair
Because you’re
You’re already there.

I turned this poem into a country song. My husband passed away and I moved back to New Jersey from Tennessee. (There are quite a few poems/songs about my husband, and that’s a long, sad story, but this is about my current life partner.) There’s no hidden meaning. It pretty much tells our story, except I never went to a fortune teller. That part is poetic justice. By the way, this wonderful man has asked me to marry him 3 times. I have two rings, which I wear. He didn’t bother buying a third. But the song made him cry. (In a good way.)

Those Tennessee skies looked mighty blue
I’m my rear view mirror that day
Over 900 miles of highway driving
To try to make my get-away

Fortune teller said I’d find my
True love in just a few
I laughed because I wasn’t looking
But somehow I saw you

I told my girlfriends not to bother
Trying to Set up a blind date
If some poor fellow was really that smitten
He’d be in for a mighty long wait

Didn’t want those dating apps
Or even a candlelight dinner for two
Just searching for some peace and quiet
But somehow I found you

You volunteered to paint my room
And help me to unpack
You even bought me dinner
But expected nothing back

Didn’t know that men existed
Who are gentle, caring and true
Alarming that there’s no Price Charming
But I found a prince in you

I still cant take that great big step
Not ready to say I do
But every time I lose my way
I turn around and there’s you

That Jersey sunshine speckles the ocean
Like stars twinkling on the blue
And I never thought I’d see such beauty
Then turn around and I see you

You took a broken, fragile heart
And nurtured it back to new
You said you knew it from the start
But I’m so, so grateful that I found you.

On earth, it seemed
But then, not so
For air and soil
Could not let go
And life, so weak
Can pull and strain
And master over
Strength and pain
So now, release
And soar with Love
And watch with care
From high above
For now, it seems
You’re truly free
No longer bound
To earth
Or me

I’ve learned how to drill holes in glass and ceramic (which is a long, difficult, tedious process), just as one example. I repurpose things that people are no longer using. I’ll take pictures of some of the things I’ve made (like bird baths out of old Italian dishes).
But now I’ve gotten into wind chimes. I’ve always loved the sounds. I have learned to cut pipes and drill holes in the metal and I use a variety of materials for the tops. Recently, I “rescues” a wicker chair that was waiting trash pickup, and took it apart and cut the pieces. These have been my tops lately. I’m going to attempt to show pics of 2 that were requests. One was for a NE Patriots fan and one was for an avid gardener who grows (among other things) milkweed for the migrating butterflies. Since it’s winter here still, it’s in her house, hanging on a grandfather clock, so it’s not as easy to see the details. My hands are gnarled from Lupus, so I can only do this on certain days, but I find it peaceful and fulfilling. Now I’m working on two others: One for a dragonfly lover, which is almost done, and one for a woman who trains therapy dogs (so it has stones with paw prints hanging from it).
I’m going to try to attach pictures as a comment. Hope it works! Any suggestions or feedback would be great. 🥰

Hours and hours pass on by
Infinity by seconds
The past is catching up to me
The future comes to reckon

My judgement wasn’t always clear
I didn’t take advice
I don’t believe it’s a mistake
Unless you make it twice

The clock ticks down the minutes
As the minutes turn to days
Eternity has always been
The temptress of our ways

The promise of eternal youth
The fountain of my vice
It’s not a sin to drink from it
Unless you drink it twice

Forgive me from
All that I’ve done
I didn’t do it twice

The time has come
To pay the price
I’ll have to pay it twice.

Colors change to dark from blue
As yellow cracks the blackened hue
Rain evaporates the sky
Another chance, another lie.

Electricity fills the air
Shockingly, I just don’t care
Before the first translucent drop
I realize I’m too deep to stop

Why is it so hard for you
To make a promise, see it through?
I told you when we tried again
I’ll see this to the bitter end

The thunder rolls, the wind it roars
On fate’s path to your front door
Drops connect as puddles form
This is not your average storm

The light of day’s turned dark as night
I’m blinded til one flash of light
Your eyes lock mine in deadly fright
We’ve past the line from wrong to right

Why is it so hard for you
To make a promise, see it through?
I told you when we tried again
I’ll see this to the bitter end

The pouring rain erased my tracks
And any sign of an attack
Sunshine came back to the skies
And shed the light on all their lies

People come to pray and mourn
They wonder if my heart is torn
I never give them a reply
Bad things come to those who lie.

You worship at the alter
Of some unholy creed
Your gospel is the scripture
Of want instead of need
You’re looking for salvation
At the bottom of a glass
You know it isn’t perfect
But it’s good enough to pass

Pass the bottle
Cure what ills you
Numb the pain
Before it kills you
Crush the powder
Choke the pills down
The pain of life
Might really drown you.

So worship in the darkness
Surround yourself with lies
Say a prayer to emptiness
And never say goodbyes
The gospel truth won’t own you
If it melts down with the ice
Your savior is another shot
Your God, another vice

Pass the bottle
Cure what ills you
Numb the pain
Before it kills you
Pass the plate
For all that’s right
Reality’s not worth the fight
Crush the powder
Down the pills
You might survive
Afraid you will

So Preach unto the choir
Of Never Never Land
The devil will spin stories
That you can understand
Then pray for your salvation
At the bottom of a glass
Drink away your memories
Amen that they don’t last

Pass the bottle
It’s easier that way

Numb your whole life
Erase another day

Pass the bottle
Cure what ills you
Numb the pain
Before it kills you
Crush the powder
Choke the pills down
The pain of life
Still somehow found you
Pass the bottle...

Thank you for my Valentine’s! I forgot my password and was ill so didn’t work on getting a new one until yesterday. (I still have been reading DU daily, though. 💕

Many people, especially men, cannot relate. Now I’ve tried Sept. 11th. Here, in the NJ, NY, PA tri-state area, this has had an impact. I’ve learned that the more you move away from this area, the less people were impacted directly and emotionally, so I’m not sure if this will universally work. Here’s what I’ve been saying:
“She can’t remember how she got home. Her friend doesn’t remember.”
“Do you remember Sept. 11th?”
“Of course. Every last detail. Like it was yesterday.”
“What did you do that Sept 10th?”
“I have no idea.”
“Right. Because that was a day like every other day. That was the party to her friend Leland.”
“What did you have for breakfast on the 11th?”
“I don’t know. It didn’t seem important.”
“That’s was Dr. Ford getting to the party. Since you forget the time surrounding the attacks on Sept 11th, should I assume that you’re making it up and it didn’t happen?”
I’ve tried it on Twitter. Crickets so far. In person, people open their mouths to argue, leave them open long enough to catch flies, and either walk away or mutter something. Nobody continues. There is no longer a debate.