The year is almost over,
And another will soon start.
This year, however,
I’ll begin with a broken heart.

I’m missing my loved ones,
My friends who’ve recently passed.
I miss their sweet voices,
Their smiles and their laughs.

It was supposed to be a Merry Christmas!
Another photo in the album!
Then suddenly that changed,
to the first Christmas without ’em…

I screamed up at God,
“CAN YOU JUST TELL ME WHY?”
“ARE YOU EVEN UP THERE?!”
“AM I JUST YELLING AT THE SKY?!?!”

I fell to my knees,
and started punching at the ground.
When suddenly I realized…
My loved one’s are all around…

They’re right here with me,
Feeling all this pain.
Does that mean they feel the sunshine?
Does it mean they feel the rain?

Maybe they’re not as gone,
As the world seems to say.
Maybe they’re right beside me…
Every night and every day!

If they’re here with me,
Guiding my every move…
Then I know that I can make it!
Because there’s nothing they can’t do!

This poem is dedicated in loving memory to my friends Alex Wisniewski, Joe Ewer, and Tammy Pouliot, but it goes out to anyone who has lost a loved one.

You are not alone. ❤️❤️❤️

I love my dogs,
I really really do…
But there are some aspects,
like when you take a back-step,
and wind up stepping in pooh!

They chew, they bite,
they scratch, they knaw.
When you’re watching a movie,
they’re licking their paw!

You’re sitting at the table,
waiting for dinner to start,
when along comes your dog,
and lets out a fart!

You all start gagging,
and gasping for air.
His tail starts wagging,
He doesn’t even care!

When you meet new friends,
and go to their door.
Your dog walks in,
and pees on the floor!

They dig, they shed,
they claw, they shred.
They get in your laundry,
and make their bed!

With all that they break,
and all they destroy,
they’re still the best little girls,
and good little boys.

When you come home,
from a long hard day,
they’re always right there,
and ready to play.

They love us so good.
They love us so well.
Even when our world,
is going to hell.

When my heart is broken,
and the tears start to flow,
I run to your shoulder,
and let it all go.

You won’t be here forever,
so I try to make it the best.
I focus on the good things,
and forget about the rest.

Whenever our bond is broken,
I know it always will mend.
That’s why they call you,
“Man’s Best Friend”.

When the trees lose their leaves,
their vail falls away.
They stand before us, naked,
and the skies all turn gray.

Trees don’t go out looking,
for something to fill the space.
They wait through the winter,
wrapped in its cold embrace.

They don’t waste time worrying,
wishing that they were warm.
They know it’s just a season,
and soon new growth will form.

I’m sure they miss the foliage,
they had the year before.
But when God takes something away,
He always gives back more!

So when you face a loss,
that brings you to your knees,
know that it’s just a season.
Like when the trees lose their leaves.

Trotting along,
without a care.
My dearest friend,
My horse named Bear.

His hair so black,
It matches the night.
Standing so tall,
In all of his might.

If you listen real close,
You can hear him run.
His hooves strike the ground
Like the beat of a drum.

I could watch him all day,
I’d stand here and stare.
My dearest friend,
My horse named Bear.

I’ve been there for you,
that’s for certain.
But let’s take a look,
behind the curtain.

You were there for me,
After I lost my Dad.
You kept me happy,
When my world seemed sad.

All of my children
have rode on your saddle.
You helped me raise them,
and that was a battle.

Through all of the hard times,
You’ve always been there.
My dearest friend,
My horse named Bear.

It’s been so hard,
to see you in pain.
I’ve cried so much,
My tears are like rain.

I know in my heart,
What I have to do.
But how on Earth,
Do I say goodbye to you?

You’re more than an animal,
You’re more than a pet.
You’re a part of our family,
that we’ll never forget.

These years with you,
Have been so great!
But its time for you to go,
to an even better place.

And I know one day,
I’ll see you there.
My dearest friend,
My horse named Bear.

-Poem written for my mother-in-law, Susan, and her horse, Bear, for his day of passing.

To start at the top from the beginning
My plan was to drop myself from this living
Moving over to the left you’ll see
The pot I grew and smoked at need
Moving down will sum up the whole page
Cuz this life sux so I found rage
Up to the left is 3 empty bottles of Jack
And with one left to go you know trouble will attack
And if you drink all of this bourbon
A migraine I think is what you’ll be burning
Up in the corner with the Marlboro cigarettes
Is a tipped bottle of vodka I’ll never forget
Cuz every morning on the way to school
With coffee and vodka I’d try to be cool
Manson up there to sing about the drugs
With heroin to share my two-timed love
And a Zippo I always collected
To cook on a spoon what I injected
AC/DC is music to my ears
And Budweiser is the king of beers
And if these beers are in your fridge
Then there is a killer in the kitchen in which you live
The cigarette butt shows the most
Of how the cigarettes I smoke are gross
With Rolling Rock beer and kinky games to play
And a bottle of crown Royal I’m King of the day
The long line of beautiful Fame
Are women goddesses who make me want to change
The colorful square of cartoons down there
Is it made up fantasy so life ain’t so bear
The clown is me the poem is mine
Jail is my box and life is my time
And the poem says: “Clown in a box”
(This clown broke down cornered in his room
Inside he found no escape from his Doom
He loves his clown inside the box
Let’s shoved back down under pressure and a lock
Cuz he alone is much the same
In his empty home he goes insane
But what’s not the same as the Jack in the box
Is that he feels pain from life’s hard knocks
And we all know when life has him down
Because he won’t show the true face of a real clown
It’s no big deal because life is a joke
But his pain is real and his heart is broke
Now over time his tears are dry
Through all the years he’s had to cry
So no longer can this clown show any pain
From the box he has found only himself to blame.)
The Harley-Davidson will be my next bike
It’s been a dream my entire life
The beautiful cheeks you see from the back
Represents the only good crack
As I saw the beautiful ass
My jaw dropped down and unwinded fast
America is the land of the free
But sex drugs and rock and roll is what it is to me
When you enter the center I’m a monster inside
A suffering rebel poet freak with no place to hide
The Christmas holiday is my worst
And Pantera will always be first
The watch on the side is there to remind
It’s time to change and not rewind
And with an Irish blessing added to the list
Art doesn’t get any more modern than this.

I wrote this at Correctional Treatment Facility in the year 2000, Toledo Ohio

Drawing on top done by: Julia Speedy
http://www.julialovestomakeart.com

Do you think that it’s possible
for someone to be so good,
that God calls them home
before you think He should?

We say it all the time,
“God must have needed him.”
but a lot of those times,
they didn’t even believe in Him.

There’s no other reason
that you would call Brad home,
and his beautiful fiancé
would be left all alone.

Now our whole family
is questioning your plan.
Why, God, why
would you take this young man?

You’ve broken the heart
of a father and a mother.
And let’s not even mention
what you did to his little brother.

The ripples flow further,
they hit my wife too.
Her mother is his aunt
now SHE is mad at you.

Granny holds it together,
sewing like a thread.
Even though she’s strong,
she wishes it were her instead.

This is so unfair,
and all a bit unusual.
But what do you expect,
when a wedding becomes a funeral?

We see you moving.
Guiding us through.
In all of this darkness,
we’re all seeking you.

So God, move in,
wrap your arms around this family.
You say you’ll work this for good,
even though it’s a tragedy.

Although we’re all grieving,
one thing is for sure.
It is only by your grace,
that we shall endure.

I know Bradley is with you
up there in Heaven.
And I know that he sees
all the love that’s been given.

Please give him a hug
from all of us here.
Tell him we miss him,
and we’ll hold him so dear.

Thank you for what we still have,
and remind us each day
that this life is a gift,
so live it the Bradley way!

~Amen~

RIP Bradley Davis. Forever 23.

I don’t know where
my sunglasses are…
Perhaps I left them
in the car?

Or maybe they are
beside my bed?
I usually keep them
on top of my head.

Did I put them
in a drawer?
I hope I don’t find them
on the floor!

When did they
even go missin?
Maybe I left them
in the kitchen?

I know I had them
when we crossed the bridge.
Did I put them
in the fridge?!?

I’ve looked here,
I’ve looked there.
I cannot find them
anywhere!

Well, I guess they’re gone
for the rest of my life…
Nevermind! I found them!
… I asked my wife.

My poem has read, last in line…
“I have no worth in mine own eye”.
Weather burned me-early age to start,
Cannot I see the lie of this part?
…And even think to give love a try
Before bitter I sink to death and die?
For if I have not to respect myself,
How can I ever comfort anyone else?
No matter the cause-No matter the reason
I need not to know-Just believe new season!
Have not I to grow 45 years old?
For that is what turned me 2 days ago…
If 40 years old I was at age 12,
Then where now alive am I on the shelf?
Need not to know that either-Rather good to exist…
Regardless of child-hood lost and missed.
Feelings of mine-I think matter not,
When I can still find a caring/sharing spot.
Nor how, I don’t know-But feel love in the air,
Though I’ll not steal it-belonging to someone fair.
For if this gift I ever can find,
I’ll no longer be pissed-When good is mine!
Forgetting the past-a job easily not done
When 40 years masked-this hatred was dumb!
Good people say I matter, every life there is
Can no longer get sadder-Because Optimism lives!
Many lessons learned, to build my neighbor up,
As when I care for mine own self…
Love overflows-and clean is the cup!

Thank You The Unsealed!!!

9-4-24

If “Love is patient”
and “Love is kind”,
then why do I feel
like I’m losing my mind?

It’s not easy to be patient,
when your family is all around.
It’s also hard to be kind,
Or, at least, that’s what I have found.

My mother’s mind wanders,
she never stays on task.
When it comes to what she’s doing,
I always have to ask!

“Where are you going now?”
“How long will it take?”
“Do you have to do that right away?”
“You’re going to make us late!”

Granny’s got a mouth,
and she runs it every day.
When it comes to me and Mom,
she’s always got something to say!

“Go brush your hair,
it looks like a wig!”
“Oh, you’re getting seconds?
Your belly’s getting big!”

Snapping back is in my nature,
sometimes I want to fight!
But I love them both so much,
so, on my tongue, I bite.

I give myself some time,
to process what I heard.
I remember who I’m talking to,
before I speak a word.

Mom might drive me crazy,
but she brought me in this world.
I know I gave her a hard time,
when I was just a girl.

Granny doesn’t mean to hurt us,
when her words come out so sharp.
She just doesn’t have a filter,
but she does have a heart.

We’re all a little crazy,
we’re each a little nuts.
But at the end of the day,
that’s what makes us “US”!

So it may not be easy
to be patient and kind,
but I’ll put in the extra work
for this family of mine.

-Caitlin Jablonsky

“I wrote this poem from my wife’s perspective about her relationship with her mother and grandmother.”
-Matty Jablonsky