I didn't visit my mom

Watching Jeopardy with my dad and thinking about my mom. I usually visit her when I'm in town. I decided not to this time. Feeling a little guilty, but I'll be okay.

I didn't visit my mom on this trip,

I feel a little guilty about that,

but I shouldn't.

I can talk to her any time I want to

without having to drive to the graveyard

and kneel in the damp grass

at her gravestone.

I visit with her when I feel the need

to hear her voice.

Sometimes she reaches out to me

when I don't expect it.

So, no, brothers,

I didn't sit by her stone

on this trip.

Instead I sat nearby while her husband 

ate, watched tv, and napped.

I walked in the crisp fall weather

and visited with her

in my head

and heart.

I hope she understood.

She was all about family

so she would want me to

be with the living.

I think.

So far, she hasn't complained.

Wait a minute,

I think she's calling to me.

Ah, she says it's okay.

She'd rather I spend time with Dad

and get outside for fresh air,

staying inside isn't healthy for me,

but be sure I don't overdo it.

Yeah, I didn't go to her grave

but we still talked.

Love you, mom.

See you later.

 

The Last Time I

 I started this one as a song. I might be able to set it to music if I do some serious editing. Stay tuned.

The last time I saw you,

we barely talked.

You had somewhere you had to go,

I had somewhere else I wanted to be.

The last time I laughed

was yesterday.

I laugh a lot these days,

smiling comes easy now.

The last time I sang our song,

my voice was strong.

I can sing it without

wanting the words to be true.

The last time I had to explain 

or defend my actions

was so long ago

that it no longer matters.

The last time I said I love you

and didn't mean it

is no longer a memory.

I've forgotten the when, where, and why

The last time I,

I could go on and on,

but I don't need to

do that anymore.

I talk, laugh, sing, live

as loudly as I want to.

I dance with or without a partner,

when I want to.

The laugh lines on my face have grown

and I love that they are always there.

I don't play the last time game anymore,

instead, I focus on firsts and well earned encores.

 

AND HERE'S THE SONG, LAST TIMES.

 

 

Snowing in October

I was hoping to write a song but it came out like a poem.

Snowing in October,

is a trick not a treat! 

Just a dusting but

too early for me!

This morning I woke up to see

a dusting of snow in the shade,

wet like dew in the sun.

Orange, red, and yellow leaves

still waiting in the trees 

to join their friends on the ground.

The cooling summer wind has gone,

Replaced by a cold wind

that bites rather than refreshes.

I pull my fleece tighter,

wonder why I didn't think

to wear a hat.

Snowing in October,

is a trick not a treat! 

Just a dusting but

too early for me!

Midwest near a great lake,

The clouds linger,

drop rain, sleet, snow.

The clouds don't have a calendar.

They don't know it's too early

to think about winter.

 

 

Lost Words and Conversations

Lost Words and conversations

He doesn't say much on the phone,

Didn't say much when I lived at home.

Didn't use many words but when he did

I knew I should listen,

  but I was stubborn,

  so I didn't.

Now I think,

I should have listened better,

I should have noticed more than the lack of words,

I should have tried harder to understand,

I should have told him that when he didn't say enough,

  It hurt,

I should have admitted that I wasn't sure

  what I needed him to say,

  I just needed more than what he gave.

Now we sit in companionable silence.

There's something sweet

  about being in the same room,

And not feeling the need to clutter our space

  with words,

Spoken or not.

 

Striped Pants

 My weekly songwriting video. I started it on Sunday afternoon, recorded it on Monday morning, and then tweaked the last verse. I think it's done now and maybe I'll record another video that has the final lyrics. 

For now, here is "Striped Pants."

Balloon Animal CIrcus

I think the prompt from was actually Balloon Circus Animals, but once I had Balloon Animal Circus in my head, that was it.

Sad little man,

Bowler hat and glasses,

Plaid button up shirt,

Loudly telling another story,

Hoping for the validation

of another laugh.

It's a balloon animal circus.

Red, green, orange, and yellow.

A giraffe with three fat legs

and one droopy one,

An elephant with a deflated trunk,

bumping into people

as it is pulled

through the crowd.

It's a horror show

of

Bopping, popping, floating, dragging.

Children laughing, crying, talking, screaming.

Strings tied to wrists,

Strings trailing in the air,

Strings drifting amidst 

Popcorn, ice cream, slushies,

Blue, red, and purple painted lips and tongues.

A circus, 

intentional and not.

Sad little man,

With memories of trash cans and steel lockers,

Getting caught, fighting back.

Threats, fights, and fear.

Sad, scrappy little man,

Loud because he had to be.

Funny because he discovered jokes

could make him friends,

diffuse  situations,

maybe even win a girl.

Balloon animal circus.

Twisted shapes.

Adding color

to the day.

Before it's time to go.

Drift away,

Get thrown away.

Sad little man,

Walking with purpose 

Shuffling strides

Works a couple of odd jobs

to help the days go by.

His wife understands

or maybe she doesn’t.

Let’s him have his work and hobbies

without her having to be involved.

Balloon animal circus.

at the zoo.

Children getting louder,

I want a dog

There are no dogs at the zoo.

There were dogs at the circus

doing tricks,

parading with braided hair,

wearing jeweled collars and vests.

What color?

What size?

Blue

and Big.

Sad little man smiles.

That’s all he ever wanted,

To be big.

Too big to be dropped in a trash can 

the first day of high school

Big enough to be seen,

Big enough to play sports,

Big enough to be listened to without having to

tell a joke or shout.

Big and mostly happy

instead of little and mostly sad,

He smiles,

His laugh lines appear,

His eyes twinkle as skin crinkles.

For a moment,

he thinks about

who he is

and who he hoped to be.

He's no longer as sad as that high school freshman,

But he's still a storyteller,

For a laugh.

 

First Sunday

 

 I love Sunday brunch with live acoustic music. This week it's classical guitar.

First Sunday.

Classical guitar,

Soothing.

Amplified to overcome 

the usual brunch sounds,

  conversations, laughter,

  plates clattering,

Applause.

Caffeine, eggs, potatoes, 

Burritos, french toast,

Wine and beer.

An open door letting in fresh air.

Ah, what a delightful way 

to celebrate 

a new month.

 

 

The Upbeat Song

I've been writing some heavy stuff so decided I needed to write something upbeat. Go to 1:24 if you want to skip the long intro.

 

A Happy One

I've been trying to write a happy song so I brought my laptop to a bakery that had live music today. Instead of a song I wrote this poem, And then i started writing a song, but that is for another post.

"So, I'll sing you a happy one."

Playing his Guild guitar,

Tip basket is looking pretty full

for this early in the show.

Must be from the family and friends

gathered at the front, 

two tables pushed together,

sandwiches and chip bags 

amid the water and coffee cups.

Billy Joel covers on guitar are always interesting.

Especially when sung by a clean cut kid with

a silky sweet voice.

Mellow.

It's hard to hear the grit in the words.

A couple of John Hartford songs.

One well known, one not.

Gentle on my mind,

Good choice for his voice

and the audience.

I'm mellowing,

Marshmallow that I am,

can't stay cynical very long

anymore.

Life is too short.

As I typed that 

the sun broke through the clouds again.

Even the weather is happy

right now.

Give it a few minutes.

That could change.

:)