POEM - I Couldn’t Resist

Twelve stories

Up

It is peaceful

Atop the tallest building

In this suburban town

I snuck in

Through an open gate

Midway up

A large zig-zag staircase

Who cares?

If I am not

Strictly speaking

Supposed to be

Here

I need this view

This juxtaposition

Almost floating

I leave

Down the elevator

The mystery

Evaporated

In the thinner air

And I am free

To ruminate

To flirt with danger

To ponder

To do nothing at all

POEM - Pooh and Me

Then I realized

As I sat

Watching the cartoon

That I had loved

Since my earliest childhood

That it had ruined me

That I had

In my subconscious

Been molded and shaped

Taught lessons about fitness

That while entertaining

Are not healthy

Curse you Winnie the Pooh!!!

“As I up down and touch the ground”

And then I know

No matter what

I will be hungry

Because exercise makes you hungry

And honey is a food group

And short and fat

Is a lifestyle

To be proud of

Because that silly old bear

Who had very little brain

Despite his rotund belly

Was nevertheless

Happy

POEM - Turkey Bowl

Really

I am glad

I was able

To get out there

Run with the young kids

Impress them

Push back the line

Display my dad strength

That strength

Fueled by

Showing off

Unrestricted

By good sense

That was this morning

But all good things end

I had to drive home

And things settled

Got a chance to rest

And realize exactly

How much damage was done

So this afternoon

I am thankful for

A warm home

Couches

Remote controls

Vacation days

Turkey dinner

And a family

Who didn’t play football

And can still reach my shoes

To unlace them

Now that I

Temporarily disabled

Can’t

POEM - West Coast Train

We left Oregon by train

My mom and my sister and I

But I was so young

I don’t remember the station

Or getting on the train

My memory starts

At seeing the ocean

As the morning grew

We sat and watched

In the dining car

I looked out the window

Fascinated by endless water

Filing in a dark blue line

Just above the blurring landscape

Close at hand

Just below

An endless light blue sky

Filling in the top half of the window

Then there was the stop

At a desert station

That looked like a movie set version of itself

I wondered why people would get off there

And where would anyone live

In a dusty, flat deserted wasteland

With nothing but this station in sight

We finally made Los Angeles

A country unto itself

Walked out

Through Union Station

To meet Grandpa and Grandma

The wonderful world of Olvera Street

A colorful gateway to the busy city

Later my father would join us

He had grown a beard

I barely recognized him

It put the idea

Somewhere in my head

That when dads are alone

Their beards grow faster

And when trains take you away

People change

POEM - If My Mother Knew

When I say it out loud

It sounds a lot worse

Like I might have been in danger

Preaching the word

On the mean streets

Of San Bernardino

But I tried

To keep my distance

Or I just got lucky

There was the time

We heard those gunshots

And peeped out the window

To see the gang bangers

Jumping up and firing randomly

At the apartment complex

Across the school yard

We went back to bed

Hoping and praying

They wouldn’t come our way

Remember when

I told you about that kid

The one across the street

Who was trying

To break a windshield

By bashing it

With his forehead

Repeatedly

Or the big guy by the Subway

Walking around

With a baseball bat

Yelling at the cars

And clobbering telephone poles

And post office boxes

And fire hydrants

Screaming all along

So caught up in his world

He barely noticed us

Though he feinted our way

Just a few times

My favorites was that one night

When I woke up

To spotlights in my window

All I could think of

Was “Close Encounters”

And I was sure they were coming for me

It was just a police helicopter

Looking for someone

On the run

From the law

But it wasn’t me, Ma

I was just watching

Seeing the crazy

From a good distance

It never really hit home

And it never seemed all that bad

But I know if you knew

You’d have been upset

So I’ve let the years come

And soften the blow

So you can read  it now

And roll your eyes

Catch your breath a little

Thank God I made it home

Maybe get mad I never mentioned it

And there’s more to tell

But I think

We might need

A few more years

Because some stories

Need to be told

All on their own

POEM - Let the Poem Write Itself, I’m Tired

I think I might

Take a nap while I write

It’s just so hard

To make up stuff

To throw into the void

And sleeping gets put off

And today I am sleepy

Ever since the breakfast potluck

With lead filled delights

That settled into my shoes

And made me all lethargic

So I’ve been fighting it

All day even

And if it’s alright with you

I’m gonna sit this one out

Let the poem write itself

I’m calling it in

I’d just get in the way

I hope it goes well

POEM - Peruvian Cuisine

The assignment

In my son’s Spanish class

Was to bring food

From a pertinent country

He picked Peru

I brightened up

I know some Peruvian food!

We have to make potato salad

Peruvian potato salad is the best!

But how I know that

Is even better

When my family moved to Tucson

When I was twelve

We were still mostly ignorant

Of Southwest culture

We’d lived in the Northwest

For long enough

To be considered from there

So when the nice family

Invited us over for dinner

We felt welcomed

When they said the menu

Corazon shish-kebobs

All we heard was kebobs

I know more now

After 30 years in Arizona

And every mariachi song ever

That Corazon means heart

What I knew that day

Was that the Gardners

Could cook good enough

That even after I knew

That it was beef heart

I finished off the rest and wished for more

What I learned after a few more times

Hanging with their kids

Was that their mom could really cook

That Peruvians make killer lasagna

And that potato salad

Could be spicy enough

To make you think twice

Before taking another bite

POEM - She Wants the Farm Life

The horse greeted us

As we drove through the fence

Of the house

Located at the dead end

The horse was only mildly interested

Then shook its main

And turned its head

To look at something

More interesting

Than our Volvo station wagon

My daughter reacted more

Was excited to see the horse

More excited

When we came around the next tree

To reveal all the other animals

Geese and chicken and ducks

As well as goats

Lots of goats

Including a pair of week old babies

Bleating and carrying on

Running around

Like they owned the place

My daughter was euphoric

Said she wanted her house

When she grew up

To look just like this

With animals everywhere

For her there could be nothing better

I was distracted

Speaking to the proprietor

Doing grown up things

While she never stopped playing

Throwing the ball to the dogs

Watching the geese warily

Petting the goats she could reach

Keep trying sweetie

I think you just might

Watch close

The big white geese

They’ll nip you

If they get a chance

POEM - In the Cards

The notes

I make to myself

To ensure things get done

I put

On the little cards

That measure

3 by 5

Stocked

In my shirt pocket

Manually modified

Singular hard copies

They stand

At the ready

Next to

The retractable-black-ink-pen

To jump into my hand

At night

They are withdrawn

Placed

Upon the table

Until I deal them out

Arrayed

In tarot form

Filled

With telling clues

But

These are better

They hold

What I want to hear

As chosen

By me

Each day

No stars or spirits required

Reliable

So

Feel happy

When we talk

If I reach

For my little cards

It means

You have impacted me

And when

My cards

Are dealt

We will meet again

Scribbled

In sweet memory

POEM - Love (ft. Waffles in the Shower)

It’s the kind of love

Where you don’t walk out on me

Just because I sit in the corner

Late at night

Wearing bunny ears

Writing poetry

Flatulating loudly

And giggling

Uncontrollably

Because I know

When to hold back

When to be quite

When you are nearly ready

To start throwing things

Sharp heavy things

In my general direction

Because I never

Want to give you

Any reason

To stop the little things

Like this morning

When time was short

And you knew

I had to shower

I had to eat

So you brought me a plate of waffles

To gobble down

While standing in the shower

Waiting for the water to warm

A moment of unique singularity

Unfettered by preconceptions of propriety

It’s that kind of love

POEM - Falling for Fall

This year

The leaves have changed

With a vengeance

As if trying

To make up

For the lousy fall

They called in

Last year

Admittedly

Summer didn’t help

That year

When it never rained

But this last summer

That just casually ended

Mellow and gently

Floating out

On the river of water

That never stopped

For three months straight

Left a rich reservoir

An endless palette

And as I looked out

From the second story

Of my office in the city

The trees are  overcome

In brilliant hues

Falling headlong into winter

Trailing autumnal splendor

In swirling shattered eddies

POEM - The Tower and the Ant

Standing at the bottom

Of two great towers

I know they hold grain

Silos of life

A sense of security

Resplendent in gleaming white

Distracted

I crouch down

In the dust

To examine the base

Of the two great towers

Because something

Caught my eye away

From its upward gaze

In the dust I search

For what diverted me

And find finally

A stark contrast

That makes me

Ponderous

            At the base

            Of two

            Great

White

Towers

Treading in the dust

            One

Small

Black

Ant

            Carries a single grain

And if he shares the news

As ants are known to do

Soon other ants

In droves

Will shuffle through the dust

And soon

Ever so silently

Ever so steadily

Ever so patiently

Empty

The great white

Towering silos

POEM - Happy Valley Dirt Jam

It was a dream

Ahead of its time

To skateboard

On gnarly dirt hills

Grabbing the old boards

Wheels removed

We sought some sick slopes

We found minor bumps

But undeterred we dropped in

Sliding and carving

For brief moments

We embodied a broader future

Of expanded board use

In an innocent attempt

To have fun

When there was no pavement

To still board

Where nary a board had been

The thrill was anticlimactic

There were rocks and stones

Instead of sandy dunes

In the deceptively named

Happy Valley where we camped

Soon after I saw my first snowboard

Thought we could have had something

If we’d thought a little harder

But why would Arizona SK8 Rats

Have ever thought

To put a board on snow?

Not long after I had moved on

And stopped skating altogether

Someone came out with dirt wheels

To put on a skateboard

Looked like a couple Tonka truck chassis

Bolted to a beefed up board

Brilliant! I thought

As I watched the commercial

Pondering the dirt path not taken

POEM - What?!?! It’s Just Water

When I flung it

The last drop of water

From the bottom of my cup

I was just playing

Fooling around

Having a good time

I didn’t expect

My aim

To be

So good

As the stream of clear water

Shot like a bullet

Straight

Into your right eye

As you squinted and gasped

In shock

And anger

I should have

If I was smarter

Known to run away

Because

You, my dear

Fight dirty

Only for the win

But I can’t resist

And since your left shoulder

Has that sore muscle right now

You can’t land half your punches

I go for the kill

A guarantee I will suffer

As I tickle your neck

Laugh manically

And duck your foot

But I give in

When the biting starts

Realize I have gone too far

Forced you into a corner

The step just before

Desperation

It is how I survive

Because you know where I sleep

And I go to bed first

So it wouldn’t be wise

Cuz mama bear don’t play

Even if it’s papa bear

Pushing the buttons

POEM - Just Missed the Pebble

It was one of those weeks

When every inch

Every challenge

Is a little harder

Just a little

Not something that anyone would notice

But I noticed

My game

Took a holiday

My mojo

A no go

My heart

Wasn’t

And I’m riding that edge

Almost not finishing

Stumbling at the line

Pushing everything to the last second

For no particular reason

Making problems

Where none exist

Because I’m blind

To the obvious clues

That normally would keep my mouth shut

Patience grasshopper

Just a little longer

This was not the week

You would snatch the pebble

From the master’s hand

But life is not over

Next week is another chance

And this week

It taught you

What not to do

And the lesson is beautiful

A pebble already in your hand