little pink pj's
filled with wiggles
oodles of sunshine
tickles and giggles

impromtu stories
of schoolyard foes
grippingly told over
cereal bowls

slippers and sandals
squeak 'cross the floor
"linolium" sounds funny
to a kid of just four

saturday loose, quick,
grab a camera
dad's dancing in pajamas
too good to lose

as mom sits back
siping through smiles
moments like these
are gathered and filed

I'm looking for a metaphor
I left it in my top desk drawer
where I store all my fancier garble
under lock and key in a little box
behind a blank folder decored with
plastic color tabs

It was to remain in hiding
until the proper timing
t'was too good to squander on
lowly prose

it's been so long since
the light of day has squinted
past the lid, darkness had become
its preferred environ
like a once beautiful woman
hiding her decrepitation
under veils and seclusion

the old cat wanders in from the cold
and dullness of winter
his thoughts are unaffected
they are stable

I am an old man,
also, stable in my thought
nothing new to speak of
and I am comfortable with that

I, like most people,
am not special

only the cat thinks otherwise

that's nice

if one is looked upon as special,
and obviously is,
that is just observation

but to be looked upon as special
when one is not,
now, that is special;

bendy buses
squiggle through
swarms of
yellow honks
and packaged pedestrians
amidst
grills and grates
belching steam
and screeches
beneath a fleet
of frozen feet

till

anesthetizing snow

suddenly
silence
stillness
a city succombs

briefly

tacit
relief
from the constant cacophony

untill

(wait for it)

the whirl and whine
from snowbound blowhards
start reving up their complaints
in frighteous indignation

I'm a spendthrift
and a hack
and I don't need you
to contradict me on that.

I remember when Self Esteem
was so important to me.

But now the door closes
and I shut it all out,
because if I don't
I'll drive myself mad.

And man, I wish I was mad.

And I wish it would all go away.
I can trace my failures all the way back
to every bad decision, choice, and failure I remember.

Home from work and at the day's end
Coming home to a smiling face
My little fur-balls wagging their tails
I've come home to my happy place

The stress of the day, all goes away
The kids want hugs and kisses
My little fur-balls jumping and barking
I just need to hold the Mrs.

They each need attention, want some of me
I just don't know how to do it
So much excitement and so much love
Each wanting me to prove it

I've learned at this point
that everything's a pipe dream,
for me at least.
Oh...
woe is me.
Everything's a pipe dream.

There's no up,
or even side to side.
There is only down,
where there is no bottom,
because my old bottom
has shown me
that any barrier,
any boundary
no matter how low
can be crashed through.

Breathing is a pipe dream
and everything I've learned,
or thought I had learned
I've had to rethink.
Woe,
woe is me.

The most important people are
my family and friends, they are my life
I try so hard to be positive around them
but I'm feeling weird, something isn't right

I'm OK sometimes, but mostly....
There are times when I get a good start
I get things done
Then it's right back to feeling unsure
not knowing what to do

I am so proud of my kids, I love them
They seem proud of me too, but I'm not sure
I think about what I should have done
differently....

The voice of Christmas Past
keeps whispering in my ear
I don't want to go with him
I'm pulling back in fear

“Come on, he says, for a while
I won't hurt you much”
I just want to show you
you need a Christmas touch”

“Bah, Humbug, leave me be
you're a bit of moldy bread
Just a dream I'm having
I shouldn't eat, then go to bed”

His touch is cold, ice in my heart
hand held in frozen fingers
“See, the school you used to go to
there is a memory that lingers”

There is a howl in the wind
it touches on my ear
I listen oh so closely
It is Brother Wolf, I hear

He speaks of love and life
things he's been and done
The battles that he's fought
the ones he's lost and won

I've followed in his tracks
across the snowy plain
I was glad for his company
on the days of rain

We had many things in common
our love for things of old
Steel autos, dogs and people
thoughts considered bold