Yes, Bedtime
Go to bed, go to bed
You’re up much too late
Oh, go to bed—
Or tomorrow you won’t feel so great
It’s time for dreams
Time to lay you down
Now don’t give me such a fuss
Now don’t bust me with that frown
Peter Pan, Whirling Dervish,
Horton with his Hoo
Roll over under your covers
You know what you have to do
Snuggle up to your pillow
You’ve said all your prayers
Sling away you fears
Drop away all those cares
Sandman says to breathe
As Momma strokes your brow
Might as well go to sleep
There’s nothing new brewing anyhow
Then in the fresh morning
Breakfast will be awaiting
With a new day to fly on high
Oh such adventures anticipating!
Sleep baby sleep
Dream sweetest dreams
Sleep baby sleep
All is as well as it seems
Fair Sky Warning
The sun set on down
And the sky went black
My heart broke in two
I’ll never get you back
The sun soared up
And the sky shined blue
I’ll remember those times
Giggling alone with you
A new noon jumped in
The temps broke so hot
Will 67 find a new love?
One never knows, like as not
The storms roared over the horizon
With a new day dawn undaunted
Who wants to dance with me—
Our spins, dips, and reels most flaunted
Pages of my blank open book flip and turn
Write your name down, maybe this time I’ll learn
Yours Truly, Until
So I just stood there
Stupid turned and one-half step taken
She sweet gave me her number
But all was already in vain and forsaken:
I had refused to hear—
Her heart busted to smithereens;
A lifelong love basely shattered
By passion thoughtless as it careens
Over such delicate mornings and deep nights
Which live in the gossamer hearts of our dreams;
And her I merely dare to take a turn
In her knight’s livery rent to it’s very seams.
Maybe I might could call?
Or even risk a texted message?
To her so lovely, lonely self
Of the yoga and the massage?
My hand paralyzed, quick stayed;
My breath caught in my chest;
Come we again to a path diverging:
Heed the call? Or, to demur is best?
Festivals beckon in Acadiana,
And I so wish with her to dance,
But I can’t see any clear path
Where I even stand a chance.
So, patiently one ought wait,
And hope quickly for the thaw,
When signals are made clear
That it could be okay to make a call.
So, presently sending fervent wishes
With love in neutral just over the hill,
But whatever future turns may come,
Signed: Yours truly, Until~
Beyond
We hie to meet on the crest
Of that far off north hill
Beyond the befogged dale
And hope to remember still
Old promises to share
And dreams to keep
Deep into a dark cold night—
Wherever lost is our chance to sleep.
Where has our 7-throned dragon flown?
Can the slaughter of Irpul be forgiven?
Where has conscience and care and mercy
And plain humanity been off driven?
But find me in the womb of the dale,
Mountain tops are for lords and masters;
My path leads to despair and slogged trial
Cleaning up after others’ so well-planned disasters.
The commander points us towards Kyiv—
The butcher bill is yet but half-paid.
The game goes on, we put in our ante,
All the corpses sweetly in tight alignment laid.
Moscow rest on a fresh sea bottom;
Would the Kremlin be chasing after
And I can return home to clean off
The cobwebs that enshroud the bare rafter?
Hah, how the yankees stand supporting Ukraini
Hiding behind those NATO euro-skirts!
But tis time to stand and march for hilltops,
No matter if back, soul, and eye hurts.
One day I hope to walk past that far crest…
Commander says Attack! I guess it’s for the best.
Fog and Fireflies
The fog rolled in
And left me insufficiently clear
The reason for the day
Was made overwhelmingly dear
13 crashed the truck
9 angels departed Midland
The Vladomyrrs remain stuck
With Ares flames fully fanned
Then the sun rearose
Warming our sad refrain
Hope akindles slowly
For our brothers in Ukraine
The fog rolled out
And we’re left with tears anyway
We wish you brighter hopes
On this too-dark St Patrick’s Day
Wait for the fireflies to wing you evensong cheer
Pray that soon all brothers can live in the clear
Clear as Night
In an ugly little room
By the side of the sea
The Sun still slow rises
For all, for you and for me.
With no gods, monsters, or ghosts;
We poor few make our own way
Thru the sadness of clashing agenda;
We’ve little room to have our say.
Yet so majestic the Sun claims honor-
Brooks no question, no how nor any why;
But once every twenty-eight days comes Luna
With the Full Moon to rule the sky.
All simple full answers do clever hide
To yield to the curious at the Hobnob.
Less surprised, we find, are all of us:
Of course you’re the one for the job!
A Far Off Chime
I heard the far-off chime of a church bell
I think it was Presbyterian
I was almost able to forget
What a terribly bad year we’re in
It pealed so sweet and so clear
Like winter’s first freshening breeze
But all memories and lingering hopes
Can give one such a sly slow tease
The leaves fall and muster at my door
I take my broom to give them a good sweep
They’ll all certainly return later in the day
Like some deathbed promise they must keep
Strewn across the darkening night sky
The stars twinkle thru the gathering cloud
Christmas carols float over across from the park
Brightening and cheering and not even quite half loud
Mantel clock chimes 10 o’clock, tis time to hit the hay
And yes I can truly say, it wasn’t all that bad a new day
Oh to be an Earthling
Oh to be an Earthling
They got golden sunrises and blood red sunsets
And they take their cats and dogs
and pigs and horsies and turn them all into pets
O to be an Earthling
With rain and sun and snow and humidity
But also smog and traffic with jams
And all sorts of songs reminding me of other stupidity
Oh to be Earthling
Hope Taylor Swift finds sleep some fine day
She seems to do her best fretting at four am
But after Red I’m sure we’ll all find a much better shiny way
Oh to be an Earthling
Football, marriages, first dates, birthing babies—
Which I don’t know nuthin about—
That glance from you while looking at me, all these maybes
Oh to be an Earthling
Christmas Day, El Eid, Chanukah, and Wesak
Glorious celebrations and the food
And the presents we never wanna ever give back
Oh to be an Earthling
The rivers and hills and dales and the coasts
All hidden behind borders and lines drawn in distant sand
All to support some tyrants tired mistaken stupid boasts
Oh to be Earthling
Who can learn and grow and extend hands in love
After posing, thinking, weighing, and looking for the high road
When all is so small beneath all those stars twinkling in a night sky above
Oh to be and Earthling
Music, books, movies, fudge, crawfish, gouda, and more
Champagne, merlot, chardonnay? The heck you say.
Such a plethora of plentitude with second helpings galore
Happy, healthy, safe and free
Won’t you be an Earthling with me?
A Golden Love
Found my own golden heart
Down around Craddock way
But the math was never right
And I let her sheen fade away.
As Fate would have it
Saw her again, so beautiful and free.
Frightened off by her smoke and kinder
I flaked off for a more southern honeybee.
Book of faces, and goodness, I can see her again.
The weighted years yet wall us off apart.
All is as it should be?
We were doomed from the start.
That’s not really true;
What would you do?
So young, so pretty, so innocent—
Was this really a love heaven sent?
This story now passes on:
A stilted speech now for a therapist calls.
Blind Passion has passed; all is well.
Love Never Dies, but sometimes aptly stalls.
Kitt
pueriles 