Sometimes it takes a village to raise a child, often the television plays that important role...
MY FULL PIGGYBANK:
50 Lincolns, in you go
a nickel, clink.
10 dimes, plink, plink, plink.
6 quarters, ching, ching.
20 Georges, come on George
3 five dollar bills, Wow I’m rich
1 ten dollar bill, Wish I had two more
2 Jacksons, Good president
4 Franklins, Hey, he wasn’t a president
1 Hamilton, Ahh, my favorite
Wow,
Daddy sure had a lot of money in his wallet!
WHY A DIVORCE:
Parents are like countries
always fighting and splitting apart
They forget words, emotions, and commitments
that they made to one another
They only remember the hate, the bad
and the hurt that they did unto each other
Fortunately I’m not a parent
so why do I feel the pain.
MOMMIES:
Aren’t Mummies great?
Everyone should have at least one.
I CAN’T WAIT TO GROW UP:
When I grow up
I want to be big
as tall as a tree
and green as a twig
as strong as a baboon
and fat like the man on the moon
I want to grow and grow
fatter and fatter
taller and taller
stronger and stronger
just like Daddy
On second thought,
I don’t want to grow up
to look like Daddy.
THE DIRTY ROTTEN DIAPER:
Oh my can it be
Time again to change me
They run for cover and plug their nose
For fear of my dirty smelly toes
PUBERTY:
I forgot you
Yes I did
And I don’t know why
Nor do I want to
Though you have been erased from my mind
That I feel sure
I just can’t remember when it occurred
It happened not over night
This I am somewhat certain
But, in either case,
You are forgotten
And if by some fluke
I start to remember
I’ll remind myself to forget you again.
TEETHING PAINS:
Wango tango
it sure hurts
Please don’t give me Exlax
it gives me the squirts
The other end, if you don’t mind
It’s in my mouth, not in my behind
Changing my diaper just won’t do
I’ve got gums, but I can’t chew
Give me a pacifier,
Or a napkin,
Or even a shot of rum
and for God’s sake,
remove that thermometer from my bum!
GRANDMA:
My daddy says my Granny
Controls my mommy
And my mommy says his granddaddy
Controls him
I don’t care who controls who
I love them all
THE CHERRY MUD PUDDING CAKE:
Take 5 cups of mud
and 6 tablespoons of flour
toss it in the oven and turn on the power
Take 7 cherries and two frog legs
add 1 can of lard
and stir together till it’s nice and hard
Next comes the jelly and fish eggs
this gives it the consistency and the flavor
It melts in your mouth
and it is something to savor
LOOK MOM, PICASSO:
Till this day I will never understand
why mother took the whip to my little hand.
I did what she said
and showed my skill.
All on the wall, not a spill
First black and then some red
rolled it
mixed it
to create the head.
Picasso would have been ever so proud,
not too abstract and not to loud.
Next came the blue and white
and the orange, perhaps a bit too gaudy,
mixed it together to form the body.
At this stage I was interrupted.
My career as an artist abruptly cut short
by a whip or a stick of some sort.
A quick rap on my knuckles
delivered her message.
And I dropped
the brush
to later pick up the pen
and now write stores of life at age ten.
LADY BUG:
Ladybug, ladybug
all fickle in the head
open your eyes before you’re dead.
Seems a shoe
clouds your domain
and the souls of many
left its stain
Splat…Splotch.
Now you are dead
At last
it is I who am fickle in the head
THE STORY TELLER:
Tell me a story blind man for you are the Storyteller.
Tell me about the darkness
and how it sheltered you in its womb,
and pitied by all.
Tell me of the water.
What did you see?
Greed in the hands of power.
A glance the other way.
Did it hurt knowing the truth?
Perhaps that is why you are blind.
Tell me of the skies,
the beautiful charcoaled sunsets,
the hazy blanket of smog and the cold damp afternoons.
Were the toxins gentle on the animals?
Were you also blind to this?
From the holes of useless bile did remorse crave to see
that which I was forced to remember.
How can the Storyteller describe
the blistering flesh burnt onto the skulls.
The billions.
The stench.
The young spitting into my face as I ravaged their bodies.
Tell me.
Please tell me, Storyteller!
At your bedside I did read to you
whispered the tired old man.
Not a prouder father one could find.
Though blind to images of your world,
I saw with my hands and loved with my ears.
I tell you in honesty and in pain,
wept the old Storyteller.
What I did I did for you.
And to wear the crown of thorns
I would do all over again.
What I did I did from love,
I did for you.
FATHER AND SON:
To create a life, that I have done
and to bury a man who called me his son.
To have lived in fear and seen man split atoms
and to have sailed upon the great Mississippi
and almost drown in seven fathoms.
To leave my flesh and see apparitions
dance upon the shrine
and to know of dead bodies
Floating down the Rhine.
To have kissed the girls in numerous lands
and to some I loved, I did leave
deep wounds in their hands.
To have walked with Plato and trod on teak
that floated upon the Caspian Sea.
And to have touched the bark
and seen the life taken from the trees.
To have flown in the air in machines that rust
and to have turned green pastures into bowls of dust.
To lie to my wife and cheat in bed
and he who took vengeance and bore me
my first that was dead.
To this and more I regret as a man
for I never hugged my father
and I never held my son’s hand.
THE GOOD FATHER:
I’ve heard stories from those who knew him best
They spoke of him as the silent hero
A man of stature
A man of inner strength and pride
With love and tenderness he did rear me
A single parent widowed by painful fate
A drunk driver played the grim reaper
And stole a soul before its time.
Yet, not a word did he mention of his loss
Not an open bed did he take for comfort
Nor the hands of pity did he accept
Though thrown into his new responsibilities
He took to them as if it were fate.
And complaints, I had none
He frolicked in my youth
And shared in my pain
He taught me in a world of hate
That in darkness there is strength
That goodness hides behind fear
And to understand this emotion,
One must see the child in the most evil
And befriend his pain.
All this time, not a tear did he drop
Not the breath of remorse reached my ears
I could not and did not see his pain
For he showed none.
If his eyes were two way mirrors,
They reflected nothing but content
And pain was but a brick wall on the other side
With no means of escape or relief.
And then one night he took his life.
With a click of the trigger a silent hero
Kissed the wings of immortality forever.
And, for the first time I realized
That is wall of pain was the only
Legacy passed onto me.
And, as fate would have it,
I built it twice as high for my wife and kid.
LIVER AT NINE:
A clank of the dinner bell sealed my fate
As evil stepmother dumped a slab of liver upon my plate
Fried 5 hours pass its time
In the pan at 4:00 and out at nine
I looked in horror and in distain
This glob of glitch should be flushed down the drain.
No, not the drain, that would not do
It would clog the pipes as quick as crazy glue.
And to my surprise I began to believe
This burnt slab of snot actually laughed at me.
It jerked and twitched and sang an evil ballad
As it cowered for shelter beneath my dinner salad.
This was a shock, I must declare
But what came next cannot compare.
The limas and the beets out of the blue
Leap frogged the asparagus and crashed into the tomato stew.
Without remorse and to no debate
I opened my napkin and cleared my plate.
Unfortunately for me, my luck ran short
Evil stepmother growled and gave a bellowing snort.
“I see you crave liver as do I”
“And for desert, I cooked your favorite…Brussel Sprout Pie!”
SKELETONS IN MY CLOSET:
What’s all this hush
about bones and secrets?
None in my closet
that’s for sure
I would know
I hide in there
And if I see
a bony cadaver
Out he goes
into the cold world
No secretes in my closet,
that’s for sure!
BURNING LETTERS IN THE SKY:
Kiss my puppy love notes goodbye
Up, up to the sky
Flames dance into the night
Carrying words, thoughts out of sight.
Goodbye puppy love….
Hello true love.
THE FIRST KISS:
I kissed Sally today
I know not why
Perhaps with this kiss I just might die
It was wet and yet dry
It was just a peck goodbye!
Perhaps that is why she started to cry?
BATH TIME:
Splish splash
I don’t want a bath.
Swoosh swamp
I don’t need a bath
Dirty is good
Clean is bad
Splash splish
I’m not a silly fish!
DOES MY FATHER SNORE?
My mother said it once
And she’ll say it no more
“Your Dad does not snore”
a puff and a hoot
perhaps an occasional toot
“But your father does not snore”
sometimes at night a quibble in the dark
a moan from under the pillow deep from the heart
soft rumbles echo from his plump tummy
gas and air mix and make it sound funny,
“But no, thank God, you Dad does not snore”
THE WOOGLE DOOGLE MONSTER:
He’s mean and crude
Not my most favorite dude.
His teeth are yellow and green with slime
He walks like an ape
And is never on time
His arms are big and hairy
And at first glance, rather scary.
With a snort of is snoot
And a twitch of his chin
He passes gas at the drop of a pin
He’s kind of crude and a bit mean
Awfully fat and definitely not clean
But as monsters go
I must say
My Woogle Doogle Monster is a OK.
TO GRAMPS:
To my oldest and best friend
a friend in need is there till the end
I’ll stand by your side and touch your hand
buy you flowers and dream of you in a distant land.
And when I get old and gray
by your grave I will pass away
When I wake and get judged by the Man
I hope you will stand by me and hold my hand.
For a true friend is there in the beginning
In the middle, and in the end.
PAIN IN THE BUTT:
Ooooh what is that pain?
It starts in my back
And spreads throughout my little frame.
I yell, plead, and cry
Stop, stop, before I die!!
They may be smarter, but next time they’ll look
Dead pop hurt his hand spanking my book.
In my pants it will stay
It should come in handy for another naughty day!!
PASS THE SALT :
Salt my fries and my fish
Add more…
Add more to this dish.
A dash here
A pinch there.
Fill the plate
I do not care.
Open wide down the trap
Here comes that tasty sodium crap.
A PEANUT BUTTER FROG SANDWICH:
Froggy, froggy, you look so glum
With crunchy peanut butter on your bum
Hidden inside two pieces of bread
Grape jelly dripping down your head
Not so good, not so fun
Quick, jump out before you’re done!!
DOING TIME AT THE ZOO:
I sit in my cage
and eat raw flesh from metallic bowls
twice a day
I return to the open holes.
You pass the meat
and expect me to be happy
caged in an iron coffin
yet convicted of no crime
You pass my cage
as I do the time.
He throws me a peanut
She tosses me a candy bar
It waves and taunts me
shouts and vents
disrespects my existence
and expects me to be content.
We are the one who watch you go by
We are the ones who wait to die
We are the ones who hate you so
We are the ones who truly know
that you are the beast
trapped in your own mortality
begging forgiveness from some soiled priest.
They come in droves
They drive their cars
They walk by our cages
Throwing us pieces of genetically altered food
and throwing our minds into horrific rages.
Who is the animal
that traps my kind
Slaves to your world
filled with hate
filled with utter fear
passing my prison but shedding not a tear
to walk the corridors of iron that rust
and show sympathy and empathy,
Ironic gestures of trust!
You enlightened creature
who fear my kind instinct
It is you who have been fleeced
It is you who are the true beast.
