I saw Pope Ratzinger on TV the other day.
Now, here’s a guy who used to drive around in a
Chevy and now everyone wants to kiss his big
toe. Don’t you think it’s kind of bizarre how
A man stands at window, watches a tree
thrusting its outline in the sunbeams
The sunrays roll down the leaves,
in all splendour.
These days I am off and on haunted
By some thoughts that keep me daunted,
And make me sad. Often do I wonder,
Will that drive us asunder,
Before dementia, with its cruel mercy
freed her from those golden bonds
His mind like a deciduous forest
has shed all its leaves
in the blighting autumnal blast.
It is bare - dismally barren
I'm sorry to hear about your dementia plight
But it is okay if poems you can still write
It is only serious when you rave and rant
Or you go out shopping not wearing your pants
Now what did I come upstairs for?
Of course I haven’t forgotten your name,
young lady, it’s just that I can’t remember it
Love dies not
Breathe stops not
And life continues
Till death follows
On one of my visits to the hospital
with locked iron-grille gates,
I walked upstairs to the balcony,
with tables and chairs, to the lounge,
now that we're getting well on in years,
there's a pox which to some brings tears.
it's several conditions, all called dementia.
and i say this to it: 'who the hell sent ya?