My soul sees and seers,
What I seldom do not want to hear;
She feels more than I ever I do,
Of all those moments,
Which I wish were untrue!
And even then she stands strong,
Without a tear,
For she knows;
Wet eyes and weak sighs,
Only makes paths -
Slippery and treacherous!
My soul strengthens the physical me;
In every prayer she weaves,
A new thread of belief,
A wrap for a lifetime;
Soon shall be stitched...
Keeping us and our faith warm,
Even beyond eternity!
My daughter came home sunday
And pronounced as loud as hell
I got married on vacation
And there's plenty here to tell
From now on it's a new thing
At Christmas, here's the test
Before we eat our dinner
By a rabbi, it is blessed
Her mother, not the sharpest
Thought a bit, and with a grin
Said, if we sit down with a rabbi
Would he truly , well...fit in?
My daughter said, well Mama
The man that I just wed
Is jewish so I'm changing
I felt a pounding in my head
From now on a menorah
Would be needed in the house
My wife said, no more pets here
Your brother has a mouse
My daughter said, no mama
It's a special, holy thing
Where you light up eight blessed candles
And enjoy the holiness they bring
My wife, said, Oh I knew that
I was testing, that was all
I'll put one on my shopping list
I'll go and buy one at the mall
My daughter then continued
there's other changes that will come
I just stood there, headache pounding
I was feeling deaf and dumb
The Christmas Tree will have to go
No turkey, kosher food
No crackers or old stockings
They may think of these as rude
At this point I exploded
No Christmas Tree, no way
Little girl, this is my house, my dear
Now, listen as I say
The tree will be as always
In the corner by the fire
the stocking hung with tender care
With nails and picture wire
The turkey will be 20 pounds
At least, stuffed full of bread
Kosher food, if served here
Will be only if I'm dead
Christmas is my holiday
It's in my house, where I am boss
And I say we have a turkey
And pray to Jesus on the Cross
A Kosher Kristmas in this house
May never come to pass
We can celebrate at your new home
Got it straight, my little lass
In my house I'm the ruler
So don't come in with something new
In my house we are Christian
And we celebrate a jew
We will welcome your new husband
To our home at Christmas time
But, while you're in this dwelling
The rules in force are mine
If you want a Kosher Kristmas
I think it is a good idea
If you celebrate together
But you do no do it here....
He found himself with painted walls, fish tanks, and a wiener dog. A place to sleep, a place to eat, a fine couch to rest his feet. A barbecue that was sturdy and new, a fridge of craft beer the finest of brew. But aside all the comforts and things on the walls the one thing that was most comforting of all, was a little blonde who would follow him around, who turned him rightside up when he was upside down. A girl who was worried about only him; and tryed everything to set him free. Free of a troubled mind that could not find the time for anyone but him. No matter her struggle, her talks, or her love, he would not cave to all the above. It came to the point where she had to go, she'd lost the person she loved the most. She left in a blink with her head in the fog, taking the pictures, fish tanks, and the weiner dog. The girl that knew him oh so well could not save him from an imprisoned hell. The self-inflected wound that would not mend; but conform as the standard of life he led. A blank canvas is all that he knew, no pictures on the walls, no new barbecue. No more snoring at night or meeting for fun, this fairy tale was finally done. It passed so fast and looking back was it worth it for where he's at? Is this the place where he should be, two job's, school, and a shattered dream. She was his love, his hope, his home, and now it's just him; all alone.- Tdragon
I, the bird, to this marine world
looked back up at the bastion of mine
from a new perspective.
The brass propellers,
the ‘streamlined’ shape of the beast,
seemed insignificant, to the beasts of God below.
I insignificant,
out of place,
in a way that awed a part of me
A vortex of swelling frigidity replaced the air of my world,
I spit out the tube
lurched back to my reality
My scape.
I saw the bright yellow
pale blue, above,
and a squadron of orange tipped tubes floating
about the rippling white capped sea.
The pearl again white, and pure.
The Voices fluttered about, and grins were sent our way.
I looked inside for my knot of fear,
it dissipated,
impossible to reassemble as dry sand.
water drained from my tube
outstanding figures below were gone.
All that was left was the shadow of the boat,
a couple dozen still to my rear approaching.
But the serenity and rush were gone.
The perception of the sea’s attitudes on my weak flesh,
the fear of the unknown,
vaporized like boiling ice.
The whole experience lost, and replaced.
Urgency lost, I floated about on the plane between two of God’s worlds.
Neither of which we truly understand.
......................................
Nordbert paid me
A visit today,
And it's something
Nordbert never does.
Perhaps Nordbert had
Something to say
In his oddly-oddish
Nordbert way.
Now, Nordbert usually
Keeps to himself,
We rarely ever
Heed his name,
He treasures his
Own privacy,
And believes that we
Ought do the same.
When Nordbert confessed
All his problems to me-
I dreaded each odd little a, b and c.
He told me his wife
Had abandoned her post,
But the one thing that
Irritated Nordbert the most
Was that she took every
Cooking mit in the house,
He called her a dribbit,
A goon, and a louse.
He'd unfriend her on Facebook
In less than a day
If she brought any more
Of her evil his way,
Such as hiding his
Butterbean marmalade toast,
Or stealing away
Nordberts treasured pet mouse.
Or tossing his popsicle pie
Out the door
When she did not understand
What he used the pie for.
And then Nordbert studied
The me that I am,
And seemed not at all
Pleased I was there.
He grumbled somewhat that
My name was just Sam,
And told me I needed
To color my hair
A green-blue, perhaps red,
Or maybe a brown.
And did I have any qualms
About painting it pink?
Oh, the neighbors will cheer
When they see you in town
Wearing a dabble
Of porcupine ink.
He told me I'm too short
And fat for my age,
And then laughed at
The way that I dress.
He told me the wisdom's
He'd learned from a Sage,
That I was a literal
Nincompoops mess.
He told me I needed
A shave and a shower,
That I was rather offensive,
Polluting his air.
And it took almost the whole
Belly lot of an hour
Before I had realized
He'd insulted me there.
He said that we ought
Have our dog put to sleep.
And he offered to
Help make it so.
He said every good dog
Has it's very dog day
And it was time
For our dog to go.
He told me my kids
Were annoying,
That they rackled
The bin of his brain.
He mentioned my wife
Was quite fetching
Except he thought she
Was insane.
He told me my lawn
Was an utter disgrace,
Then pointed out all the
Stress lines on my face.
He said our tap water
Is all full of lead,
And we're all gonna die.
At least that's what he said.
Nordbert told me my house
Needs a coat of new paint,
Something more homey,
And not at all quaint.
He explained how I'd brought
His fine neighborhood down,
To the grit and the gluster
Of the bad part of town.
And he patted my shoulder
And whispered, "But all's well.
If it gets any worse
We may all have to sell."
And he hobbled away
As he picked at his ear,
In the thick of the day,
With his neighborly cheer.
And I had to acknowledge,
Concede and admit
I did not like Nordbert,
Not one little bit.
Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler
.........................................................................
"A good neighbor is a fellow who smiles
at you over the back fence, but doesn't
climb over it."
~ Arthur Baer
..........................................................................
I adore women
I refuse to apologize for it
I like the way their voices squeak in the upper registers
I like the fashions
I like the makeup
I like the aromas
Not the silly runway catwalk biz that reduces them to awkward mannequins
adorns them in the impractical
and cloaks them in the absurd overreaching of the tired clamoring for something
new and unique
that which exploits their lithesome anorexic perplexing job requirement
I like the way they can shape shift, alter and assume new identities
I like the fact that some have mood swings and PMS
I marvel that they can give birth
I like being aware that their "water-weight" make's them grumpy
I'm astonished that they innately ovulate with the cycles of the moon
and that the Huntress Diana inherently acquired her namesake
Doesn't bother me a bit that "it's a lady's prerogative to be late"
or that opening a door for them is considered 'sexist'
I was raised with a sister and a mother
with lace and dainty frilly things
I caused them a lot of aggravation and consternation
I think they enjoyed it - nonetheless
somewhat
I refuse to apologize for it
he saw the cracks in her and he fell
in love with the cracks in her.
he nursed the cracks in her. he brushed them with
cool hands—he soothed them for a moment
but he made certain not to
mend the cracks in her.
he loved them, and they kept her close
in the pretty new summer, she started
to mend them herself
and as they faded, he tried not to believe
that what he loved of her was
a crafted story (his irresistible imagination)
a cracked story (she resisted)
a crack (she--)
on its way out
there are different (smaller, but
everpresent)
cracks in her, now, though in the
pretty new summer they are difficult
to find
“tell me you trust me”
And if you think all is lost,
look again.
Surround yourself with happiness,
with love, peace, and good friends.
And if anger overcomes you,
look around.
Don't give into temptations,
pick yourself up off the ground.
And if happiness is what you seek,
don't be afraid to venture on.
While the world may seem so bleak,
paint a new picture, write a new song.
And if love is something you fear,
carry on to find it.
Never let your hopes disappear,
never succumb to the silence.
XOXO
For Beverly and Telma
To listen to you talk
To drive, to take a walk.
Just us girls beneath the sun.
Where we laugh and sing a ton.
No one else like you,
Who loves life and all that's new.
Who turns the song up loud
And belts it strong and proud.
You turn the windows down,
We cruise around the town.
Then to the countryside,
Where streets are long and wide.
I could go with you til dawn
If the drive could just go on.
I love that fiery heart
That I'll miss when we're apart.
But sister, you should know,
To me, you shine, you glow.
So don't you ever change,
Or I'll live you just the same.
Tough talk,
if it hits the drain, bubbles just like gut rot.
Punk rock,
she was starved but survived when cut off.
Arrival of the fittest,
is that lion's growl or kitten's meow?
She of grace & grit, made a meal out of my nerve.
Said: "Goodbye's for other times,"
but I couldn't track the curve.
