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until courtesy amazing grace interceded
in the doggone guise
of Canis lupus familiaris
unwittingly timely deliverance
videre licet as an unconditionally loving
emotional support animal.

Emotional and financial crucifixion
synonymous with being
figuratively nailed to the cross
or flayed into a bloody pulp,
which damning punishment
linkedin to joint checking account
being sucked dry as an arid desert
by a criminal hopefully
he/she gets their comeuppance
for usurper(s)
of our joint checking account funds

How dare you call me a rat with wings,
an attitude that truly stings.
I’ve never done you a jot of harm,
yet you ignore my every charm.

A male, I’ve a bib that does me proud.
It puts me at the top of the crowd.
Gets me the choicest feeding grounds
and females, striped with buffs and browns.

My kind’s the commonest bird you’ll hear
or see. We love to live quite near
your homes. We like to build our nests
on eaves, in holes in walls. But pests?

Not me! Won’t sneak inside your attic,
although my flights are acrobatic.

Qanday qilib kazinoni tanlaysiz?

Life span expires around 100
That final flash behind the brain dies fast —
If I could choose, I’d leave this fleeting land
Beside the man I love, my lifelong friend.

Yet fate is cruel; now I must live on,
As if the one I love has gone away,
Learning how to bear the restless storm,
From someone long lost in my heart’s sway.

I gambled all on love,
Poured my soul, loved so fiercely
Only to get back zero, not just a number,
But negative infinity, a reversed flow.

Like a mistletoe, I cling with no sure hold,

Day by day
My Father
You keep me alive
Day by day
Here on the planet earth
For 58 years
And I must tell you
That I Iove living
Here on earth
AIso I pray every night
For my Father
I never forget to pray for you
Father
Before you made the earth
You had made the sky
For the birds to fly
AIso you made the birds
With your holy hands
And I must say that the birds
Are beautiful
AIso it is wonderful
To see them flying in the sky
Day by day
When I woke up
This morning early
The sun was out
And it was not hot yet

We never saw the sky grow still,
no longer calling out our names.
The hopscotch squares have faded now,
the swings forgot their games.

We never heard the wind slow down,
no longer racing past our feet.
The summers now have schedules tight,
and magic took a seat.

We never guessed the stars would shrink,
just tiny dots against the night.
Bedtime lost its whispered tales,
and dreams stayed small, polite.

We never felt our hearts grow quiet,
a little lost but somehow bold—
until we turned, just once, to find

They carved me from the oldest wood,
A puppet bound in fate, not good.
Each twisted string, a silent plea,
Yet none would ever set me free.

A painted smile, a hollow chest,
They pulled my limbs, they did their best.
But hands that grip too tight, too strong,
Will never hear a broken song.

I danced upon the crimson stage,
A prisoner trapped in quiet rage.
The master laughed, the crowd adored,
While I remained—enslaved, ignored.

But puppets learn, with time and pain,
That strings can break, that masks can wane.

Damp shiver,
under wanton fog,
lone self plight,
as shrill cry,
swallowed by eerie phantoms,
of snow gust night’scape

In morning's gold and evening's glow,
The garden’s where my glad hands go—
To tend the green, to hum a tune,
And watch the sprouts reach for the moon.

The succulents in pots of clay,
Like sunny spots and hate the spray.
"Don’t drown me, please!" they seem to say,
"A drop or two will make my day!"

The ferns are fancy, lush and shy,
They thrive where shady breezes sigh.
"Keep me damp," their fronds will plead,
"A misty hug is all I need."

Cacti wear their spiky suits,
But deep inside, they’re mellow brutes.