THE MAN IN THE MOON

When my son, Bryan was young a question he had...concerned the moon up above and made him sad.

He wanted me not to think him dull...but he loved the moon when it was full

And though for years his problem went unspoken...one day he asked, “Why does the moon get broken?

“I’ve seen it,” he said, “many times at night...and noticed something is not quite right.

The moon starts out so round and gay...but then it slowly fades away.

At times I’d like to get some tape...and put the moon back into shape.

When the moon is gone, Dad can you explain...what makes it come back full again?”

“Don’t worry son,” I said, “don’t feel perplexed...this I know, the moon’s not hexed.

Yes, once a month the moon is full...and the world enjoys it’s brilliant glow.

Then gradually it becomes less round..because the moon’s battery is running down.

The man in the moon doesn’t mope or pout...he waits patiently till the moon’s light goes out.

Then he retrieves from his pants pocket...a large new bulb for the moon’s light socket.

He screws it in and there you are...the moon again is a shining star.”

Oh what a different tale I could have spun...of the changing positions of the Earth, moon and sun

I could have told him that the moon he sees...changes relative to his geometries.

But I knew at his age the best translation...was one spiced up with imagination

For I knew he would be growing up soon...so I told him the story of the man in the moon.

Now whenI look up at the moon a thought occurs... I wonder which description he prefers.

A CHILD'S BIRTHDAY PARTY

I love a child’s birthday party...the chaos, the gifts...the surprise

But most of all I like seeing our world through a child’s eyes.

At a child’s birthday party their life is full of adventure and filled with thrills

They don’t know in the near future they’ll have responsibilities and bills.

At a child’s birthday party they willingly wear the same hats

They don’t know nor do they care who’s a Republican or who’s a Democrat.

At a child’s birthday party they play together without shame

They don’t see, and haven’t been taught, how not everyone’s the same.

At a child’s birthday party their thinking cake and gifts and snacks

They don’t know of the troubles in Syria or Korea or Iraq.

At a child’s birthday party they celebrate the child and the season

They don’t know there are people out there who will harm them for no reason.

At a child’s birthday party they eat everything that’s on their tray

They don’t perceive there are people in the world who won’t eat at all today

If you think about it we only have a few child’s birthday parties to attend

For when they are no longer children this type of party comes to an end.

They outgrow the child’s birthday party and the angelic way they play

As the world, our world, encroaches and peels their innocence away.

Oh we wish it wouldn’t, we wish their lives could always be this innocent and hearty

As we wish their world would always be just like a child’s birthday party.

For a moment we’re transported back...to when everything was innocent and good

We realize those feelings are fleeting, and we would have kept them if we could.

But of course we can’t...to most of us this comes as no surprise

That’s why I love a child’s birthday party...seeing the world through a child’s eyes

And I wonder, as I think of my life and how my innocence has passed

If this is the part...and these are the children whose innocence will last...

Yes I love a child’s birthday party, it’s so fun and boisterous

For as I watch a new generation play together I think there’s hope for the rest of us.

I LOVE PASTA

A cooking class is a wonderful experience, one I highly recommend 

Deborah and I took a pasta making class this summer with Bryan and two friends

As the chef explained his technique of this wonderful way to dine

All around me people were emulating him while laughing and drinking wine

In the room was a wonderful mix of people...most I did not know

Who came together for one evening to laugh and play with dough.

I stopped a few times during the evening and did a double-take

Thinking, as people kept smiling for their cameras, “What a great commercial this would make.”

I thought if someone would only tape this night and put it on the air

It would appeal not only to Italian families but to families everywhere.

It never even occurred to me as we made pasta on that day

If anyone cooking and laughing in that room happened to be gay.

But if Guido Barilla had been filming as we made pasta on that day

He would have asked each gay person to raise their hand then kindly step away

“Not for lack of respect,” he’d say, no he wouldn’t want to condemn

“But ours is a classic family, and we don’t agree with them.”

Of course Barilla has apologized after the firestorm that ensued

Saying his message needed to be clarified, his words were misconstrued.

I’m sure in his mind Mr. Barilla did not mean to degrade or to enflame

He just didn’t realize today (or ever) no two families are the same

What Mr. Barilla and those who think like him unfortunately fail to see

Is that the wonder of the family, like pasta, lies in its variety

To me the main ingredient of family, to which Mr. Barilla seems unaware

Is not one person in particular but in the love we share.

What makes a family taste so good what makes it something we want to savor...

Is how each one, spiced uniquely, has it’s own distinctive flavor

I loved Barilla pasta their commercials emphasizing family were benign

Now I’m sad to learn their definition does not agree with mine.

And since from his commercials a group of humans he has banned

I’ll take up his suggestion and I’ll buy another brand.

A NEW ADVENTURE

The day has finally arrived for both Deborah and for me

Today we are retired and we wonder, how can that be?

I’ve been teaching for 39 years for Deborah it’s 35

Sure there were those days we wondered if we ever would survive.

But we made it through the ups and downs through the joy and through the woe

And today we are both wondering just where did the time go?

This day comes with mixed emotions although we are happy with the feat

I believe our feelings are best described as somewhat bittersweet.

We have been happy with our career choices and as retirement is nigh

We know a new adventure awaits us...but it’s still sad to say goodbye.

We’ve grown up on these jobs, you see, and neither of us would trade

The students that we’ve come to know or the many friends we’ve made.

We have been so lucky in our education, and consider this a plus

There were many days we forgot we were teaching them...as they were teaching us.

That is the beauty of teaching, that won’t show up on any quiz

You forget which one is learning or who the teacher is.

To the students we have taught, before we head out the door

Whatever you may have learned from us...know...you have taught us more!

And we’ll take the lessons we have learned as retirement is nigh

And see where this new adventure will take us...as it’s time to say goodbye.

A DROP IN THE BUCKET

As I worked with a student today one on one for the last time

I didn’t think about the end of my career, I thought about the climb.

I thought about this student and all the others who

Were wonderful to work with, but came with problems too.

Sometimes the problems seemed too severe, I was frustrated and appalled

For all my years of schooling it seemed I didn’t learn anything at all.

So I decided long ago before my own children were grown

That I would treat my students as if they were my own.

I tried to let my students know they mattered...and I cared

Even though so many came with problems that could never be repaired.

I wanted my children to be respected and happy at the end of the day

And so I tried to treat my students in exactly the same way.

I’ve seen families torn apart as hopes and dreams were shattered

So I wanted my students and their parents to know in my room they really mattered.

In somber moments sometimes I wonder sometimes I am afraid

For in the end I’m not quite sure how much of a difference I have made

Mother Theresa realized in the present or the past

That what we do is but a drop... in the ocean deep and vast.

She also realized in fact on this she would insist

If that drop were not in the ocean, then that drop would be missed.

So as I look back on my 39 years if only drops are what I see

And those drops made a difference then it’s good enough for me.

A MEMORY

Today I was driving home from work and in front of me an older man was driving slow

I was immediately transported back to when Bryan got his license, so many years ago.

I accompanied him to the bureau of motor vehicles and there we stood abreast

As Bryan was next in line to complete his vision test.

Before us stood an old man filled with confidence and pride

As his vision was being tested a younger man stood by his side.

The old man put his head into the machine to test his eyes

When asked to read the top line, “I can’t!” came his reply.

“Let me try again,” he said, “now which line did you say?”

The screener said, “The top line.” Then the old man stepped away.

He looked at the young man next to him, then looked back at the screen

“I’m not sure,” he said, “but I think there’s something wrong with this machine.

“Miss,” he asked the lady, “ who had just let out a yawn

This machine you’re using for the test, are you sure the damn thing’s on?

“I’m sure.” Came out her curt reply, “There will be no debating.

Please read the top line to me...there are many people waiting.”

The old man pushed his head into the machine until it shook momentarily

Trying harder to read the top line that he obviously couldn’t see.

“Are you sure this thing is working?” the old man asked once more

“Yes!” the screener said rolling her eyes as if she’d heard this all before.

She responded in an unkind tone, as if she’d been provoked

“If you cannot read the top line, sir, your license will be revoked.

The old man took a step back he had no more reply

He stood up tall and straightened his clothes as a tear fell from his eye.

“Don’t worry Pop,” the young man said this is a misfortune we will survive

After all the years you drove me around it’s now my turn to drive.

Come on I’ll drive you home,” he said, “as you drove me before

He put his arm around his dad then they walked slowly out the door

That day has always been special not because Bryan passed his test

But because we saw before us a father truly blessed.

RECIPE FOR WAR

This is a recipe for war.

You take two countries, maybe more.

Combine plenty of hate and abhorrence,

With a large amount of ignorance.

You will need missiles, perhaps some scuds

For this recipe has its share of blood.

Mix in guns to shoot and knives to slice

An unending supply of each should suffice.

Now add some tanks and boats and planes;

A dash of death and loads of pain.

Then take some bombs and let them fall

Blending together one and all.

Throw in babies and let them die

Moms and Dads and watch them cry.

Add terror with sorrow intervening

For without sorrow...can war have meaning?

Fold in people...then more people still

Keep adding until no one’s left to kill.

This recipe will serve, I’ve heard it said.

Everyone in the country...till they are dead.

This old recipe is filled with our past mistakes

But we haven’t learned from them as more wars we make.

Because just when you think you’ve had your fill of war

We’ll find two new countries, maybe more...

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL

I played a little in high school football and...as a sport I have nothing but praise

At least the way it was played in high school, you know...back in the good old days.

On or off the football field our coach had certain behaviors he’d expect

His main teaching no matter how we did was to treat everyone with respect.

If you knock them down you help them up, if they score, “Great Job” is what you say

Because we learned in football as in life there is a gracious way to play.

I never played past high school (I wasn’t the superstar I thought I would be)

But I still love watching the game today though I’m often appalled at what I see.

Yes, the game is still worth watching that’s a fact I cannot overstate

I do have a problem however with the ways some players celebrate.

It appears in the years since I played football some gamesmanship has passed away

And some of the players have forgotten there’s a respectful way to play.

Players mock and they ridicule and they try to humiliate and shame

It seems to me along the way they’ve forgotten it’s just a game. 

If a player makes a tackle it’s not enough that we applaud

He bursts out in the open and acts like he’s a God.

If another scores a touchdown he begins to pound his chest

He runs and jumps and flails and shouts just like a man possessed.

Since when does doing what’s expected cause you to flex, and shake and scream

You’d think they succeeded by themselves instead of as a team.

Certainly there’s a place for celebration in the game of football today

But if my high school coach was watching I know exactly what he’d say.

He’d say, “Players please remember that no matter what ensues

You must show as much dignity when you win as you show those times you lose.”

Football has a grace and beauty that will oftentimes amaze

But when it comes to sportsmanship and honor, I long for the good old days.

GIVING TO THE MAX

When he made the anonymous donation in commemoration of the 9/11 attacks

They didn’t know where he came from or that his name was Max.

He walked into the Greenfield, Wisconsin police station and laid his money down

Then just as quickly walked out before anyone could turn around.

Though his donation was made in silence with dignity and grace

The police wanted to thank him properly, and that means face to face.

So this being a police station they tracked down every clue

After all isn’t that part what we’ve empowered our police stations to do?

His name is Max Siepert and his story is now being told

He rode his bicycle to the station and he’s only 11 years old.

His 6th grade class was studying the 9/ll tragedy, and 39 years before

His grandfather died in the line of duty back in 1974.

So he saved his money religiously, his mission was intense

And his generosity was exhibited by his ten dollars and three cents.

Thank you Max for remembering those whom we should all acclaim

And for donating your money with honor and generously in their names.

It’s always a good feeling when we hear of something earned

That is given up with no expectation of anything in return.

And when it comes from one so young and innocent who is only starting now to live

It teaches us all the meaning of what it’s like to give.

So this morning on my walk with Deborah in Max’s name we will present

To our police department the amount of ten dollars and three cents.

If every person would do that on this I know Max would agree

In his words that would be awesome and what a great world this would be.

THE BEAUTY OF A SINGLE ROSE

(If a field of flowers is all the world knows

We may never realize the beauty of that single rose...)

Deborah and I, I must attest

With 4 wonderful grandchildren we have been blessed.

And it occurred to us some years ago

Although the 4 together set our world aglow

To enjoy each ones uniqueness, we both agree

We had to see them separately.

(If a forest is all our eyes do see

We may never know the beauty of that single tree.)

So once a year we take a grandchild away

To celebrate what we call their birthday day.

It’s a day without family or sibling tension

Where they can receive our full attention.

The plan is simple yet erudite

We pick one up and they spend the night.

We go out to dinner (that’s after much musing)

At a restaurant of the grandchild’s choosing.

(If only in the harmony of a choir we rejoice

We may never know the beauty of that single voice.)

And next day no matter what the weather

The 3 of us spend that day together.

Last night it was Ava’s turn, and looking back I daresay

We had just as much fun as she on her birthday day

In looking back over the years and the all the birthday days we’ve spent

It never seemed to matter what we did or where we went.

It appears when you spend time together no matter the milepost

What you do is secondary...It’s the time that matters most.

So with Ava sleeping soundly as now my whole world slows

I smile as I enjoy the beauty of that single rose...

THE DREAM

Perhaps Edgar Allan Poe was right...(I hold his poetry in high esteem)

When he said all we see or seem is but a dream within a dream?

Yesterday I wrote a poem as a few of you may recall

The essence of that little rhyme was simply about being bald.

Last night I had a crazy dream and this fact I do swear

In the dream I was eating sushi and had a full head of hair.

Why would a bald man dream of hair...it seems odd just to repeat it

And why would I be dining on sushi when I really hate to eat it?

This led me to wonder about dreams and just what in our sleep do we see

Perhaps while we dream we are seeing the world more as we’d like it to be.

What if a man who can’t see a thing while awake on this planet of ours

While dreaming sees the sunrise, or a rainbow or watches the moon and the stars.

What if a boy whose hearing is lost...in his sleep finds time to rejoice

Because there in his dream for the first time he hears his father’s or his mother’s voice?

What if a woman confined to a wheel chair, as for walking she hasn’t a chance

Finds in her dreams she can stand up, or walk on her own, even dance.

What if a woman in the throws of depression feeling sadness in its extremes

Finds happiness, joy and contentment while spending the night in her dreams.

What if a parent whose child is suffering with a handicap or a disease

Sees in their sleep their ultimate wish...a child with no agonies

If all we see or seem is but a dream within a dream then it’s comforting for me to see

While dreaming...not the real world... but the world as I’d like it to be.

I like to believe that while we’re asleep in a dream at the end of the day

Perhaps all the world is at peace and our troubles have faded away.

So when we awake to the reality of our world...whatever reality which we have to cope

We awake a little happier than when we fell asleep and are filled with a little more hope.

As we go through our lives experiencing the ups and the downs and some of us even much more

Perhaps having hair and eating sushi is precisely what our dreams are for.

(I still don’t know how to explain the sushi, I’m sure it’s a dreamers mistake.

‘Cause I wouldn’t be caught dead eating sushi...at least not while I am awake.)

IT'S ONLY HAIR

When I was born, so I’ve been told, my parents were enthralled

You see they thought I was beautiful even though I was quite bald.

Of course they didn’t worry for they were perfectly aware

That it wouldn’t be long until I was sporting a healthy head of hair.

When I entered high school I rebelled a little, wearing pants with a little fringe

I even had a mop-top hairdo which made my father cringe.

I attended college during the 60’s where rules and regulations we did lack

On my own with no restrictions my hair grew down my back.

But it didn’t take long for me to notice pieces of my wonderful flowing mane

After every shower were slowly flowing down and clogging up the drain.

Yes in the shower it was apparent and in the mirror I was appalled

For at an early age it became quite obvious...I was going bald.

The 60’s came and went and though it’s hard for me to declare

With the loss of my tie dyed shirts and fringe pants ...I also lost my hair.

But now that I am older with baldness I feel more at home

For I don’t have to pay for haircuts and I never need a comb.

Now when I take a shower a short time does it take

I can wash my head and dry it with a wiggle and a shake.

And I have on some occasions been in awe and thunderstruck

When an older woman rubs my head to bring her some good luck.

Yes my head can shine like a light bulb in the sunlight of the day

But the wind does not affect me and I need not worry ‘bout turning gray.

It doesn’t matter where or when I can always wear a hat

Without worrying if when I take it off my hair will look too flat.

Yes being bald has it’s advantages...this I do declare

When you think about it after all is said and done, you know it’s only hair.

If my parents were alive today I’m sure they’d be enthralled

For they would think I’m beautiful even though I am quite bald.

COOKING TIPS

Who says men don’t know how to cook?  Who says the kitchen is a woman’s place?

This is a myth I’d like to expunge, a fantasy I’d like to erase.

I’ve done my share of cooking over the years although Deborah has done the most

And I can hold my own in the kitchen if you’ll permit me this one little boast.

I may not be the best cook but there’s one thing for which I do strive

My goal beside a creating a good meal is simply to get out alive.

For cooking has its share of pitfalls, any good cook knows this is true.

With this in mind from my years of experience I offer some tips now to you.

When cooking in the kitchen there are two things you must learn

The first is make sure you turn on the oven...and the second is not to get burned.

Wait...before you ridicule or dismiss this little gem, before you belittle or scoff

I failed to mention if you turn on the oven...don’t forget to turn it back off. 

I learned early on it’s OK to make a mess on the counters the floor and the walls

But I also learned from experience that too much flour on the floor makes you fall.

Knives are sharp and if you’re not careful can cut you so in my kitchen I have found

It’s a good idea not to watch TV while you cut...and to keep a box of bandaids around.

Oh yea and no matter what you are cutting think safety first wether together or alone

And never give the smallest grandchild in the house the biggest knife that you own.

And no matter how creative a cook you might be, no matter how sly or how cunning

It’s not a good idea to put your hand inside while the darn disposal is still running.

If you put water on to boil then leave the kitchen and become preoccupied 

When you smell the burn and see the smoke...chances are your pan will be fried.

Did you know if you open the freezer, and this is a pain I’ve more than once felt

If you forget to close it and leave it open overnight everything inside it will melt?

Speaking of refrigerators here’s a great tip from me that you may now glean

Never cook with anything from the crisper if it’s moving or fuzzy or green.

And finally if you’re storing your bread in the oven perhaps then 911 you may require

Because if you preheat the oven without looking chances are good you’ll be starting a fire.

Yes if you follow these simple and easy steps I guarantee as a cook you will thrive

Your food may taste horrible but remember the key to cooking is to get out alive.

SO LONG SALUSTIANO

Salustiano Sanchez-Blazquez died this week and tho I can’t say I was a fan

What made this story significant...he was the world’s oldest man.

He was born in 1901...the mathematics you may forego 

According to my calculations, that’s 112 years ago.

When someone asked Salustiano how he kept his death at bay

He said, “I took 6 Anacin tablets and ate a banana every day.”

We live in an odd yet wonderful world...you know I speak the truth

When I say here in America we celebrate our youth.

We want to look and feel younger that’s very plain to see

Just flip through any magazine or turn on your TV.

If you don’t think the desire to look young runs rampant through the human race

Then why do people take a bacteria and inject it in their face?

If you don’t think that old age is something many fear

Then why were 15 million plastic surgeries completed just last year?

In many ways if you think about it a youthful bill of good we’re being sold

Because from the minute of our conception...we all are getting old.

I have no problem with people changing or any procedure they go through

If trying to look younger makes them feel better too.

But I believe we should be encouraged from the moment be begin

To embrace each moment of our life no matter what age we’re in.

To me life is a miracle...a wonder to behold

When we are babies, teens, or middle aged...yes even when we’re old.

So, so long Saluistiano as from this life you have withdrawn

May we celebrate the life you lived not just the fact you’re gone.

And as for me, at 60, getting older has really been a treat

Now if you will excuse I need to take some Anacin and I’ve got a banana to eat.

THAT OLD TABLE

Last night Deborah and I we were treated to dinner it was a wonderful night I must assert.

We sat at a table (actually 2) one for dinner and one for dessert!

When we returned home, happy and full, Deborah tossed her purse on the table with ease

After locking the door and hanging up my jacket, I tossed on my wallet and keys.

As I stopped for a moment and looked at our old table I was overcome with tears

For I realized how important that table has been to our family down through the years. 

This is the table where our children grew up, it’s seen their laughter, their tears, felt their screams

It’s not only where we tossed our purse and our keys it’s where we piled our hopes and our dreams.

If I look hard enough I see children doing homework, coloring, or playing a game

Soaked into that table are memories of who they were, and the knowledge of who they became.

If I look again I see grandchildren and hear joy and laughter overhead

Only the voices don’t say Mom and Dad anymore they say Nana and PopPop instead.

It seems this table has been a confluence where our family has sat, laughed and dined

Once we leave we take a little bit of each other with us and leave a little of us behind.

Most days now at our table it’s just Deborah and me, now that our children are grown

But we both know when you eat at the table of memories...you never eat alone.

Then I realized everyone has tables where they’ve piled things over the years

Where they’ve shared dinners and parties and laughter and love and blood and sweat and tears.

Yes we often take them for granted, it may take us a lifetime to see

That it’s not just a table we’re sitting at...it’s part of our family.

So the next time you’re looking at photos, before your looking is through

Look closely and you’ll find a table, chances are it is smiling too.

ADJOINING ROOMS IN PARADISE

When Grandpa died we tried to explain 

That he’d never be back with us again

We talked of God and paradise

How his life with us was too concise.

It was a battle with cancer...cancer won

We searched for a good explanation but there wasn’t one.

And so I wondered with his life coming to an end,

How much did my son perceive...how much did he comprehend?

Until a few months later when Grandma’s life expired.

(She couldn’t live without Grandpa; she was too old...too tired.)

My son awoke late, I think around eleven

And asked if Grandma’s room was net to Grandpa’s in heaven.

At last I knew he understood and his reasoning will suffice 

For it’s lovely to think of Mom and Dad with adjoining rooms in paradise.

WHERE WE DRAW THE LINE

Does anyone else find it appalling as the years have tumbled by

That we’ve become accustomed to watching people die.

Anywhere we look, on the Internet or on TV

Death, destruction and civil wars make up most of what we see.

We like to think we have evolved we pride ourselves on that

We don’t see ourselves as animals...no, now we’re bureaucrats!

Which makes it kind of absurd that with all the killing going on 

We’ve decided chemical weapons is to be our rubicon.

You may kill your people with guns and knives, and tanks are not bizarre 

But pull out your chemical weapons and now you’ve gone too far.

Blow this city to pieces then blow up 20 more

But bring out a chemical weapon and this we can’t ignore.

Shoot rockets at each other, line your streets with shells and mines

But use a chemical weapon and you’ve overstepped the line

Since when did HOW people kill each other cause us outrage...and appall

Shouldn’t we be more horrified that people kill at all?

If the world would come together and the world would make a stand

Then we wouldn’t have to draw an arbitrary line upon the sand.

When we draw the line at killing and as a world community unite

Then and only then do we have a chance to win this fight.

Until the world is as dismayed with the killing be it chemical or not

Then this same world will never learn the lesson to be taught.

That every life is precious and if all our Gods are willing

We must, it is imperative, stop every kind of killing.

Sure I hate chemical weapons...any killing weapon yet devised

Is there anyone whose seen them who has not agonized?

But more than that I hate the fact that the rest of the world stands still

While acknowledging, hypocritically, there are acceptable ways to kill.

Yes, we kill each other like animals, and we watch while others maul 

It makes you wonder, doesn’t it, if we’ve evolved at all?

THE DAY OUR WORLD CHANGED OVERNIGHT

12 years ago terrorists commandeered 4 domestic flights

And suddenly our world changed overnight.

Today people wore red, white and blue as a way

Of commemorating what our country went through that day.

For on that day with our world careening

Those three colors took on a different meaning.

Red represented all the blood that was lost

And that freedom can come at an extremely high cost.

White was the color on our faces that day

As we knelt down together with our families to pray

And blue was the color in our hearts and souls

We were country of people who could not be consoled.

For on the day of that brutal attack

The terrorists stole our innocence...which we’ll never get back.

Yes 12 years ago our world changed overnight

But 12 years later we can see daylight.

For though our colors may have faded... that didn’t last long

Yes the red, white and blue have come back strong.

Our country endured difficult conditions and all those dead

We were courageous in the face of danger-the epitome of red.

We tried to retain our purity and do what’s right

And began a new innocence- the essence of white.

We are vigilant, we persevere and seek justice too

Are all represented by the color blue.

So we proudly wear the colors for these colors shout

America may have been down...but we were never out.

THE POET IN US ALL

People ask me why am I attempting to write a poem a day

Am I getting old and crazy, do I have things I want to say?

In truth a poem is very simple, you think and in no time

You’re putting thoughts  together in words that somehow rhyme.

But a poem is more than rhyming...you must let your thoughts run free.

And suddenly the words you think..turn into poetry.

Anyone can do it...no matter how big or small

For hiding inside our heart and soul...is the poet in us all.

How quickly will your thoughts take hold and often make you sigh

For you could be creating the next great lullaby.

You’ll find your words give meaning to your trouble and your strife

And the poet in you just may make a difference in your life.

So people grab your pencils and some paper off the shelf

As you find the poet within you...you may surprise yourself.

The question shouldn’t be why am I attempting to write a poem or two

When you really stop to think about it...the question’s why aren’t you?

ONE MAN AND HIS GUITAR

When I was in college friends would sit around and it wouldn’t take us very long

Before someone brought out a guitar, started singing then we all sang along.

Once out of college I attended concerts in stadiums and enormous ball fields

Where the music was loud, the crowd immense and everyone vociferously squealed.

We didn’t care if it was raining or in humid 100 degree heat

We sang, we danced, we screamed and no one stayed in their seats.

It’s been years since I attended a concert and I guess it’s time to confess

That as I grow older although I don’t mind big crowds I find I seek them out less.

Saturday Deborah and I attended a house concert-we’d never been before

Truth be told we had no idea what to expect when we walked through the door.

A small group of people, many whom we didn’t know, I think around 49

Were gathered round in small groups eating and drinking wine.

Shortly we all squeezed into the living room-we didn’t have to travel far

We sat down...waited and soon...in walked one man and his guitar.

He was tall and thin and wore a straw hat and it didn’t take him very long

To look over the crowd and smile then tell a story and sing a song.

It’s funny how sometimes life comes full circle because at the evening’s end

It seemed less like attending a concert and more like with my old college friends.

He transported us back to simpler times and it didn’t take him very long

Before this one man with and guitar had the rest of us singing along.

His name is Jonathan Byrd--in folksinging circles I’m sure he is a star

But for 2 hours in our friends house he was just one man and his guitar.

You can have your gigantic concerts with your pop divas and rock and roll stars

As for me give me a house filled with friends, a sip of wine and one man and his guitar.

OH MY GOD

You may think me different or perhaps a little odd

For I am not religious...but I do believe in God.

“Why that can’t be.” You tell yourself. He is a little odd.

For he has to be religious if he believes in God.

I am not a theologian nor have I been formally trained

But I can think and I can feel...for God has given me a brain.

And my brain tells me my feelings are not at all absurd

For the line between the God I know and religion has been blurred.

Blurred by man who takes Gods words and in his name creates

A religion he thinks absolute...and thus discriminates.

Then other men create more religions and here’s where thing get odd

Soon we have a world of religions and just as many Gods.

Until the world is segregated and often times bereaved

By religions and the different Gods in which we all believe.

No matter what name religion gives their God I’m sure he or she’s dismayed

As she watches man explain her words in so many different ways.

What we have now is a world that, to me, seems a little odd

When so many people hate each other...all in the name of God.

Now I certainly don’t have all the answers and in many ways I’m flawed.

But let me introduce to you my non-religious God.

My God sits not upon a mountain top or on a throne high in the sky

And he does not wait to judge me the moment that I die.

My God resides within my heart and he helps to calm my soul

He befriends me on my journey but let’s me be in control.

My God advises and supports and helps guide me down my path

I certainly stand in awe of him but I do not fear his wrath.

My God believes in faith but his prophecies aren’t grim.

Because he has as much faith in me as I have faith in him.

My God believes in hope. He is not the voice of doom

For is it not hope in the seedling that allows the rose to bloom?

My God believes in charity, he knows the key for us to live

Is not how much we take in life...but how much we give.

Most of all my God believes in love. He knows it shall light the way

And he cares not if I am straight, or Bi, or lesbian or gay.

My God does not discriminate by the color of my skin.

And he cares not if I am young or old or overweight or thin.

My God does not see differences in man or womankind.

He loves each person equally...I think my God is blind.

(As I look out on the Earth today, on the world man has designed

Perhaps it would be easier if we were all a little blind!)

My God does not choose vengeance he has no capacity to hate

It is man, through his religion, who will judge and desecrate.

My God’s heart is filled with sorrow, his soul is filled with shame

When people maim and murder...and do so in his name.

My God feels only agony and oh how he abhors

When people use Him as a reason to fight a holy war.

For my God knows no war is holy and he wishes they would cease

He prays for man to use His name and live in holy peace.

No matter what people call their God I know He or She is sad

When they praise Her for the good in life or blame Him for the bad.

You see, My God is often times confused and certainly perplexed

When people think he controls what happens in this world or the next.

My God knows good and bad are part of life...I think this makes him wise

He knows everyone can find happiness and he knows everybody dies.

My God’s given me the ability to decide what’s right from wrong

Yet he accepts I’ll make mistakes for he knows my journey’s long.

So all He asks of me is kindness and to treat everyone the same

That when I die people will smile at the mere mention of my name.

For nothing in this world would bring a broader smile to My God’s face

Than knowing everyone created would leave this world a better place.

If we wish for this world to be different...then we all have to be a little odd

Perhaps we all should be less religious...and have more faith in God.

A LIFE SHARED

In elementary school my grades were adequate although I much preferred to play

Who knew concepts learned so long ago would be applicable today.

For instance here’s a simple thought of which I am exceedingly aware

Life is much more effortless when it’s a life we share.

The more people who share our sorrow, who help and reassure

The easier it is to handle and the longer we endure.

While when we are happy and share that joy with family and friends

Like ripples on the water, that feeling never ends.

I have often wondered about it...why does this phenomenon exists

Is there something in the universe, some teaching I have missed?

How can two opposing feelings, which can never be compared

Have similar consequences when individually shared?

I believe the solution is simple which now I shall provide

The sadness gets divided while the joy gets multiplied.

Imagine that! The answer lies in basic math--all those years ago conveyed

Perhaps if I paid more attention, I’d have earned a better grade.

And it wouldn’t have taken me this long to become exceedingly aware

That Life is much more effortless when it’s a life we share.

GRANDPARENTS DAY

Being a grandparent in so many ways is a real plus.

Did you know there’s a holiday dedicated just to us?

35 years ago Marian McQuade decided to create

Grandparents Day, (which congress recognized in 1978).

26 years later a singer/songwriter came along

And wrote the lyrics and the music to the Grandparents Day song.

We even have our own flower, the forget-me-not, on which we can rely

I think that’s a dig on grandparents...but I can’t remember why.

At any rate this morning Aden and Ava’s elementary school

To celebrate Grandparents Day did something really cool.

They set aside some time for us to be together..and I must say.

It was a wonderful way to start any day.

On the tables in their cafeteria they provided books to read

And we dined on bagels, O.J. and lemon muffins with poppy seeds.

While Deborah and I sat there basking in our grandparental glow

Aden and Ava’s other grandparents soon began to show.

Then Ava and Aden’s cousins joined our growing little crew

(We love that both of them usually call us Nana and Pop Pop too)

Before we knew it we had 4 grandchildren and 6 grandparents in that room

That’s alot of love to go around...and alot of muffins to consume.

As we sent the grandkids off to class and were walking to our cars

We, the grandparents, realized just how lucky we all are.

And as we smiled and hugged and bid each other adieu

I realized our grandchildren are pretty lucky too.

For they’ll have so many grandparents however old they grow

To help them celebrate each and every day wherever they may go.

I hope every grandparent out there had a Grandparent’s Day as great

But I have to wonder...what did grandparents do before 1978?

Another smile crossed my face as Deborah and I drove away 

You see Deborah only took the morning off... I took the entire day.

LET THE TEACHERS TEACH

Speaking as a teacher, with retirement just days away 

Here’s my opinion on the state of education in America today.

I’ve observed many great teachers and there’s a pattern to their speech

For they believe the problem is...they’re not allowed to teach.

The system commandeered their imagination and has hidden their creativity away.

Some, if you can believe it, are being told exactly what to say.

Teachers have much to offer but all the time they have invested

Is being wasted as their students now are extremely over-tested.

These test I believe are certainly a part of educations sad demise

For they do not test students capacity to think only their ability to memorize.

In fact I’ve seen many great teachers who taught a few years then withdrew

Because of all the rules and regulations on what they can and cannot do.

Somewhere along the way, and I’m not sure who’s to blame

We’ve forgotten that every student will and cannot learn the same.

The solution is a simple one just ask any teacher...for they know

Its nothing new or earth shattering..in fact it was proven long ago.

Teachers are trained to do their job, their students...they know how to reach

So keep their class sizes low, the discipline consistent and simply let them teach.

When you allow teachers the freedom, to use their imagination, creativity, and heart

They not only transmit knowledge...but it’s wisdom they impart.

Give teachers more creative freedom and they will find the link

They’ll stop teaching kids to memorize and teach them how to think.

For the key to success in education...if we want our students to evolve

We need to teach them not to memorize but how to problem solve.

My teacher friends hope (and I imagine teachers around the country feel the same)

That their students will leave them more well-rounded and wiser than they came

So if you want education to improve then this one lesson I beseech

Stop the incessant testing and let your teachers teach.

(And one more thing to think about so more teachers don’t walk out the door

If you want the best trained teachers...you might have to pay them a little more.)

BRING THEM HOME

I’m a teacher not a politician.  I have never been to war

And I can’t imagine the atrocities occurring in countries far from America’s shore.

But I’m tired of American soldiers being sent by boat and plane

To fight for causes our own politicians find difficult to explain.

I’m tired of the bloodshed and resources this country expends

When it causes our soldiers, our children, to die far from their family and friends.

(I’ve often wondered if only the leaders children were the ones to fight a war

Perhaps they’d solve their differences without fighting anymore.)

And I can’t help but wonder about the millions of dollars we spend every day

To assist in bettering countries where people hate us anyway.

And how can we find horrors in one country, that justify a war

While similar horrors in another country we totally ignore?

When I was growing up I stood proud with my parents to see our flag unfurled

We believed at that time the United States should help police the world.

But the world has changed in spite of us and it makes me kind of sad

For now it’s much more difficult to tell the good guys from the bad.

So we have to stop sending our armies in places they don’t belong

To me, that doesn’t make us weak...it shows that we are strong.

Strong enough to fight our own battles and try hard to defeat

The poverty and violence that occur on our own streets.

Strong enough to take that money and spend it now, forsooth

On the health and education of our children and our youth.

Strong enough to help our people so that when they fall sick or ill

They won’t lose their house or pension to pay their medical bills.

I’m not sure how we can ever combat the evils man creates

But I don’t think America anymore should be the one who mediates...

I think it’s time we look at the places where our soldiers and power roam

And I think it’s time we say, “Fix Yourselves!” and bring our children home.

I do not take this fighting lightly I pray that someday it will cease

And I pray the world would spend less time waging war and more time waging peace.

HOSPITAL DRIVE THRU

Yesterday I heard on the news a story quite bizarre 

It seems a girl was shot in the head and her boyfriend put her in the car

Only he didn’t drive to the hospital, perhaps he was under too much strain

No, he ended up at a fast food restaurant...yep, in the Checkers drive thru lane

It was there he called the hospital and the story found it’s resolution

But it occurred to me perhaps by accident he hit on a health care plan solution.

What if all our hospitals from California to Vermont

Were not isolated buildings but connected to fast food restaurants?

Is there anyone who hasn’t lingered in a hospital emergency room?

Wouldn’t the wait go better with some fast food to consume?

Just think of the incentives...Our hospital offers you a deal

If you visit us for any ailment...you get a Happy Meal.

She’s having trouble breathing, there’s something leaking from her eyes

And while we’re waiting how about a double burger and an order of large fries.

I’ve been shot, I’m bleeding, and my chest and shoulder ache

But I could sure could go for a McFlurry and a double chocolate shake.

Ever since I woke up all I do is cough and sneeze

Am I still in time to order two breakfast biscuits one with chicken, one with cheese?

I need some Botox added to my lips and some fat drained from my thighs.

Yes I’ll have a number 6 and can you make that super size!

You don’t have to worry about paying us now, just come on in and get your fill

We’ll add the price of your treatment to the total on your bill.

When we order that big bacon cheeseburger with fries on our birthday

Wouldn’t it be nice to know, after we eat it, we’ll have a place to stay.

Because, if you think about it so many people in this country eat fast food every day

That sooner or later they’re going to end up in the hospital anyway.

With our arteries being clogged up from these fast food dinners and snacks

It’s pretty apparent most of us will die from a stroke or heart attack.

3500 people die in hospitals each day- and the way we eat that numbers bound to grow

But if your hospital carried fast food...what a wonderful way to go!

HGTV

There’s a staggering statistic...I’m sure you’ve heard of it, of course

That nearly half of every married couple will end up in divorce.

I have a theory and no, it’s not the changing ethos that we see

I believe the answer can be found on your HGTV.

For years men were content with their lot..to fix things with duct tape

Until HGTV came along we never heard the word roomscape. 

If you ask most husbands to make house changes they’d rather sell ‘em first

(Yes we’re the men who wear the same pants twice...hey at least we smell ‘em first!)

There’s nothing scarier than watching football in my comfy little space

When Deborah enters with that strange HGTV look upon her face.

“Honey, you know what will make this room look better...it needs a different paint.”

You, of course, think the room looks fine..so you try to show restraint.

“I like this color you say before she sends you off to Sears

It’s cozy and it’s comfortable, and it’s lasted 20 years.”

Then her look intensifies and she wonders aloud why you can’t be

As handsome and as handy as those men on HGTV.

So to save your marriage you head off to Sears or Home Depot or Lowe’s

All the while cursing HGTV for adding to your woes.

But that is not the end...your troubles are only about to begin

When she says, “Did you know Lowe’s will match any paint color we bring in?”

So the rest of your married life (if you stay married) you lament

When she turns off the TV and says, “Did you know we can also paint cement?”

Or after you’ve spent the weekend on a ladder or hands and knees

She looks around and announces, “This color is darker than I thought it’d be.”

Or you sit down after painting and all your light fixtures are reattached

And she says, “You know with this new paint now our furniture doesn’t match.”

So husbands a little advice..to your marriage add some fun...

The next time your wife says the kitchen or bathroom needs redone

I suggest you take that duct tape and yes you know what to do...

By the way did you know duct tape comes in different colors too?