Perhaps,I'm a maybe.

I may be one indeed.

Perhaps,I'm a somebody.

A somebody in need.

Perhaps,I'm nothing at all.

I have everything i need.

Perhaps,I'm never wrote these words.

Indeed,indeed.In deed.

Walking to the cemetry on an overcast day on Mother’s Day.

As I arrive,my memory suddenly goes blank.

Where is my moms headstone?

I know it’s close to the chain link fence.

perhaps five rows up.

I search and search,to no avail.

I think to myself,maybe someone is telling me,Im wasting my time and that she in no longer here.

Or perhaps,I‘m still in denial!

Maybe I don’t want to find my mothers headstone!

But why did my mind go blank?

I often think when love ones think of the ones they have lost.

Does the deceased know that?

Do memories fall into the ground with the deceased?

Are they buried forever With them?

when you think of your love ones,does that memory find its way to your love one who has departed?

Or when the departed thinks of you,it invokes a memory in you.

Like a long distance thought travelling on a current that connects their heart with yours.

Maybe why my mind went blank,was to put new thoughts in my head,that I wouldn’t have thought of,if I had of found my mothers grave.

perhaps our thoughts of old and new memories would have collided with each other,if we found each other.

Then a gentle storm that is proceeded by the stillness of past memories,would have left us with memories of the past.

Are the flowers I notice up against the fence,are they flowers thrown out of frustration from those who can’t find their family plots?

Or are they the flowers that loose their strength from holding the perfectly laid grave side offerings with their delicate fragrant fingers From the winds that dishevel the soil?

As Im leaving,I notice a lady,with a cloth,cleaning off a corner of a headstone.

And i’m thinking perhaps memories are being invoked in her ,when she wiped the corner of her mothers chin.

When her mother was to helpless to do it herself?

Does her mother feel that.knowing that she’s still alive in the memory of her daughters heart?

These are just a few things I thought of,on an overcast day,walking home from a cemetry on Mother’s Day.

One time when I use to look at myself in a mirror in the dark,there wasn't much difference than when I look at my self in a mirror in the light.

In the light,i knew i was standing there. In the dark,i didnt know where i was,but i knew why I was there!

Maybe now when I'm standing in the light,I'm really in the darkness,that's why I can hardly see myself.

Do i want to see myself in the light of the mirror or the darkness of the mirror?!

I have chosen the darkness of the mirror!

Because every time i leave the light of the mirror.

I return to the dark of the mirror!

And a part of me appears.

So, I will keep looking into the mirror in the light.

And keep returning to the mirror in the dark!

Til I fully see the image of me in the mirror in the dark!

Swallowing and choking on

bones, from a plant based silicone fish.

Swallowing and choking on

chips from a plant.Based in Silicon Valley.

Regurgitating fish and chips.

Recovering from swallowing and choking on

synthetic fish and chips from a silk plant,

based on scientific studies in Silicon Valley.

I often hear people say,when I die will you be there,when they lay me in the ground?

Will your tears nourish the soil for the tree that grows,and the birds of prayer will leave their nests and carry me home?

Or will i climb that tree to the top,and freefall to the ground?

I hope i see you before I crash into the dry soil into my resting place!?

five,five,five,five,five,

seven,seven,seven,sev,

en,five,five,five,five.

five fives in a row,

three sevens and part of a

seven with four fives?

Not sure where i was

going to with this haiku??????

I had a brain fart!

Swallowing bones from a plant based Silicone Fish.

Choking on chips from a plant based,in Silicon Valley.

Regurgitating fish and chips.

Recovering from swallowing,choking and regurgitating on synthetic fish and chips from a silk plant,based on scientific studies in Silicon Valley.

My fingers bleed from trying to pull the strings of your heart.

My hand aches from the words I write to you in song.

My lips freeze and go numb from useless words that you have heard before.

I find you sleeping,I hold out my aching hand,my wounded fingers touch your frozen lips.

I see you lay there helpless.A feeling I know.

I lay down behind you embracing your numbness that bleeds and aches from the broken strings of my heart.