My teacher took me aside
After class in eleventh grade
To reprimand sarcastic pride
For the foolish comments I made.
She told me that I would do well
To be a little more sincere,
Or something more than school I’d fail,
Since I’d never learn to endear
Others and would lose my few friends.
My mouth’d get me in trouble, too,
Before my life reached its sad ends.
It got me married. It was true.
O Honor, I knew thee ages past
And trusted in thy great constancy
And let thee influence all my acts.
But whatever has happened to me?
How could I forget thy great friendship,
Since it made a real man out of me,
Someone others and I could respect
For integrity and loyalty?
How is it that I could run thee through
In a cursed moment of thoughtless rage?
Thou hast gone on to join chivalry,
And I’m stuck in this accurséd age.
What’s fit for the birthday of the one
Who gave her own life to give me mine;
Who labored that I might see the world
And enjoy the kiss of the sunshine;
Who was my very first teacher,
Teaching me love through tender care,
By feeding me and changing diapers,
Putting me to sleep rubbing my hair;
Who strained her back to pick me up;
Who tickled my feet and rib cage;
Who gave me butterfly kisses;
Who wrote on my mind’s blank page
The impressions of ethics and morals
And the lessons none else could teach;
Who fostered my language and learning,
And taught me my goals were in reach;
Who cared for me more than herself,
And encouraged me to be the best;
Who was my emotional pillar;
Whose genes gave me strength and zest;
Who loved me when unlovable,
And was my friend continuously;
Whose greatest possible happiness
Was to find me fully happy;
Who tended me when I was sick
And healed my wounds with her kiss;
Who worked hard to provide shelter,
Clothing, food, and the whole list
Of basic needs; Who took the time
To scare monsters and demons away;
Who answered my questions faithfully
And taught me how to pray;
Who’ll never give up on me,
Despite my worst attitude?
Is there a gift that I can give
To express a lifetime of gratitude?
Shall I buy her a Wal-Mart gift card?
Will a trinket or bauble suffice?
How about cheap perfume located
Near thoughtless gift sets of Old Spice?
Maybe she’d like some plastic flowers
Or a cheap cubic zirconia ring?
Even if I spent a million dollars,
I’d miss the most important thing:
She doesn’t care what gifts I buy,
Though the thought will make her smile,
Instead she only wants to know
My life is heading somewhere worthwhile.
She wants to know that I’m progressing,
Building self-confidence and esteem,
For the greatest gift to give a mother
Is knowing her child’s reached his dream.
I grew up in other eras
That had ended centuries past,
In the days of jealous Heras
And castles that were stoned, not glassed.
All the honor I’ve ever had
Came from King Arthur and his knights.
Without my books, the world was bad—
It’s advertised by neon lights.
Contemporary music aged
For a decade before I heard it;
And most of the new books I read
Weren’t so eloquently worded.
I grew up chasing Robin Hood
That I could be a Merry Man.
I knew why Ivanhoe would brood.
Oh, how I loved Maid Marian!
And life’s unbathed simplicity
Known and loved from such older times
Has made me useless completely,
In this world full of many crimes.
Hello again, another year’s gone,
But my love for you has remained true.
Though time, winds, and rain can etch out stone,
They can’t fade my memories of you.
The adventures we shared when we were young,
The follies of our innocent days,
All of the meaningless words we once sung,
Maturing together our own ways,
The problems that loomed above like clouds
Which we faced calling them funny shapes,
Our friendship’s warmth found amidst cold crowds,
The relief of our narrow escapes,
Departure’s cruel sting burning our eyes
With all the salt from the ocean’s deep
As we were dispersed like a dream flies
Quickly from the mind wakened from sleep,
And all of the sacred times we’ve known
Have given my life deeper meaning.
As years vanish more friends come along,
But on your shoulders I’m still leaning.
Though there may one day be a sad price
Paid in tears should one day our paths part,
You’ve taught me it’s worth the sacrifice,
For friendship never dies in the heart.
I may be far away from home now,
But you have remained a part of me.
My unfailing good luck charm, my Tao,
Is the worth of your friendship to me.
In the thoughts that strengthen me each day,
Gladdening my heart when I despair,
Your friendship will remain young always
Since to time and space love’s unaware.
How I hope we can have the chance to
Share more memories in coming weeks.
But if this wish is not to come true,
Then know what my heart sincerely seeks:
May you be blessed the entire year through,
Prospered, protected, and full of cheer.
Know that I dearly love and miss you.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
The sand dunes in the sunset hues
Are discolored and interspersed
By wild oat grasses and bushes
Who’ve come to quench a salty thirst
And sun tan in the ocean breeze,
Called by the same force as I
To gaze off a green forever
Where the Sargasso meets the sky.
And in the sliver of horizon,
Which proves to man the earth is round,
Is seen the truth man won’t accept:
It’s only now that life is found.
So what am I doing right now
To make use of my only one?
I’m standing on these sand dunes
Creating unique sand art with my son.
The flows are marking silica
Where I teach him to write his name.
He’s too young to know better,
And I am dispossessed of shame.
The sea gulls stare at our shadows
Stretching out like tentacles behind.
The crabs welcome the distraction,
And Mother Nature does not mind.
And when he’s old and full of years
And his beard’s gray, and I am gone,
He’ll think of making sand art here
And will fill young and not alone.
The oaks and pines are all around.
There’s humus carpeting the ground.
An autumn breeze blows on the dusk
Where serenity has been found.
The last calls of departing birds
Bid adieu to the cricket strings.
A tiny one is flying now
Without using feathery wings.
She burbles, tiny hand in mine,
Warm and full of innocent life.
Her other hand is held fast in
The petite grasp of my sweet wife.
She is a marvel like a seed,
So small, yet what will her impact be?
She’s the glue our marriage did need.
She loves unconditionally.
She looks up like stargazers do
Awed to see heaven watching them.
She tells me, “Daddy, I love you,”
And my spirit can’t help but grin.
She’s caught up in a whirlwind hug,
And she giggles while I squeeze.
My eyes bid her while she’s held snug,
“Stay this precious forever, please.”
Her pure soul senses what I seek;
Her eternity understands.
She reassures me as my cheek
Is caressed by angelic hands.
Such tiny hands, and yet they bless,
Wielding a power more profound
Than weapons forged in man’s darkness,
For in them all my hope is found.
A slight breeze on a warm spring day
Seeing several paths and going any way
Happiness and smiles across your face
To go and do most any place
My wrists and ankles are still sore
From the shackles that ate my flesh,
But I’m not tortured anymore,
I’m not caged in wire and mesh.
I’ve run so far to chase this dream,
And should I die wearily here,
Emancipated like this stream,
The last moments would be so dear,
Healing all tragedies since birth,
All bludgeonings and knavery.
A drop of water free’s worth
All the dippers full in slav’ry.
The torrents have left their mark here,
As mud puddles and ditches show.
The oils slip by past battered grass;
Debris’s amazed how fast it flows.
I walk along admiring floods
Like others seek out Christmas lights,
Enthralled to see creeks overflow
In nature’s primordial rites.
When not splashing, I walk on curbs
As if I could relive childhood
By trying not to fall off now,
Walking whithersoe’er I would.
This past spring the pollen’s gold dust
Dyed the rushing flood waters green,
Restoring natural colours
Back to afflicted living things.
But now ’tis fall and the brown grass
Is littered with wet clumps of snow
Where cotton’s escaped from the trucks,
Littering the roadsides below.
Midnight Musings from Melancholy Muses 