To Salinas we had come,
Over a hundred miles from home,
The smell of turned earth and crops in the fields.
To the wedding of my cousin two days hence,
She was a lovely girl and I was very fond of her.
She was Mom’s oldest brothers’ only daughter.
All Mom’s family had come to attend the event.

Sleeping at an Uncles house,
Loud angry voices awakened us.
At only age seven, still a sound sleeper,
The voices actually frightened me awake,
Like a nightmare dream gone wrong.

Cursed shouting and some pushing,
Adults in night dress, robes and slippers.
The brothers and Dad still fully dressed.
In the middle of all that turmoil was my father,
Surrounded by Mom’s three larger brothers.
Dad was not a drinker,
But the Uncles had taken him out,
And drinking was not something new to them.  
One of them was nearly a professional at it.
Some years later he even died of it's effects.
The brothers were not normally mean spirited,
Yet always very protective of their little sister.
Perhaps they thought that,
No man, not even my Father,
Was good enough for their only sister.
A mistaken belief, that lasted for years.

A silly dispute had ensued,
My father’s pride was hurt,
A punch or two was thrown,
Landing where I do not know.  
Now, at two in the morning,
My Dad was ready to go home,
Nothing would stop him doing so.
Had any one tried further,
Someone was bound to get hurt.

My Mother intervened,
The car was hastily loaded,
As Dad sat behind the wheel.

My older brother and I still in our PJs,
Huddled in the back seat of the car,
Our eyes big and scared appearing,
For these were not normal events in our lives,
Before that night or since.

Mom desiring to be calm,
Attempting to reason with her husband,
A man having had too much to drink and
Suffering a bad case of wounded manly pride.
They were not two people used to conflict,
With each other, or anyone else.

The car was going far too fast,
This back in the days before seatbelts,
The fences and power poles were,
Speeding by in a blur of indistinct shapes,
Acted to further the unreality of that night,
Deepening my childish fright.

Suddenly the car swerved to the left,
And Mother screamed something,
The left front wheel struck an immovable object,
Our Chevy bounced into the air,
And my head smacked the ceiling.
The Rear wheel then hit and mounted,
The same hard object and once again,
For a moment I and my brother were in the air.

Our car was brought to a sudden stop half on,
Half off a concrete Traffic Lane Divider,
With three of us in that car, all crying.

I shall never forget the look
On my Father’s face,
As he peered into the back seat,
A truly remarkable expression,
Fear mixed with utter disgrace,
He stared at us for a moment,
Then turned his head forward.

In the rear view mirror,
I could see his eyes,
I watched them, as they turned to liquid.

My mother checked her sons quickly,
And then slid over to my Dad,
She whispered something,
I could not hear.
They sat there silent for a while,
My Father’s head lowered,
My Mom’s arm around his shoulder.

After a few minutes,
Dad opened his door and got out.
Mom leaned over the seat and comforted us.
Then got behind the wheel,
She almost never drove,
But backed the car off the concrete island,
Drove the three of us back to her Brother’s home.
My Dad swallowed up by the blackness of the night.

A few day later we returned to our home,
My Father was there waiting for us.
For the second and only other time in his life,
I saw my Father weep,
As on his knees he held us all tight to him,
He pleaded remorse and for our forgiveness.

I never saw my Father intoxicated again.
And of course we all forgave him.
I had learned something new that day,
My Father was not truly made of steel.  
As no mortal man ever is.

alcohol gives
short periods
of drunkenness
followed by long
periods of contrast,
but in that drunkenness
god whispers
insanity in
your ear
and you
smile

Birds singing
in the dark
—Rainy dawn.

Bi-Polar Man

In the darkest evening hours,
arose a man with special powers.
Stop a fast moving car,
uproot the biggest tree,
float like a butterfly,
sting like a bee.
Climb the highest mountain,
swim the deepest sea,
Drinks from the youth fountain,
the luxury of being free.
Take advantage, it only lasts a few days,
in walks depression, and its wicked ways.
No fun to crash and burn,
not knowing which way to turn.
Sleep all day, awake crying all night,
battle the struggle, with all your might.
Afraid to leave your own house,
too lazy to catch a pestering mouse.
Then the powers suddenly come back,
now it's time for the returning attack.
Playing Frogger on a busy street,
for the high score, you compete.
Jump the tallest building,
faster than a private jet,
dreams and goals, you're fulfilling,
spending money, bills you forget.
Once again, you start to crash,
head you begin to bash.
You are bi-polar man,
never was part of the plan.
One day happy, next day sad,
Now you're laughing, then you're mad.
Mood changes on the drop of a dime,
no perception of day or time.
On a schedule of pill taking,
these habits, no chance of breaking.
I happen to be a bi-polar man,
just doing whatever I can.

She is ours, part of the family to be loved and cherished and later to play with, my connected love, now we were two cuties, my sister and me, you always had time for me, explaining, sharing, helping and learning, what discussions we had! Stories related, retold time and time again.
Little man off to school, you and the babies close behind, be brave, through the tears I played shop, I smelled old milk and cheesy feet, lots of  kindness and felt understanding, but I had to go again!
Music and drama, fainting and headache more like, fresh air and playing seemed like the answer, big gates, streams of parents and kids all in my way, wait at the crossing, mad rush to get across.
Home with Jacques Cousteau and underwater swimming, the reading adventure began, to swim like a fish with just the bubbles for company amongst the depths was my daydream, Tea time already, how time flies in dreamland, everyone’s there except dad, easy time!
Bath time for me imagination overdrives submarines and divers, how long can I hold my breath? Dark outside, my siblings breathing and the background hum of the downstairs TV is all I hear. lights off, time to find the torch and read under the covers, a few pages before the creak on the stairs.
Torch off, pretend to be asleep as the door opens and dad checks we are all “dead to the world”, sometimes I manage to stay awake and find my place, often I wake up, rub my eye, its  daytime already!
My brothers and I shared a room, bunk beds for them near the window, me opposite the door. Little privacy, but fun nevertheless, occasionally difficult sometimes interesting, but mostly annoying.
A largish family sharing a small space, the art of compromise often stretched to breaking point, We children grew, vying for position and fighting for existence and recognition such is our roles.
Protected me from harm, allowed me to grow even when I was being stifled by others, convinced me that Policemen were there to help and not there to be afraid of, but respected, understood my concerns and provided solutions to my childish concerns and worries.
Stroked my fevered brow and rubbed tired muscles, supported me through conflict and disappointment, you taught me to understand both sides of the argument; you taught me empathy and compassion.
You taught me to stand my ground when threatened, to show strength in the face of adversity, how intelligence is a path to knowledge, that intelligence wasn’t everything, but learning is!
People are human whatever the colour of their skin, or their religious beliefs, fairness ruled, whenever I needed you, you were/are always there for me, always ready to provide a shoulder to cry on, some advice for me to consider, away from all the madness, a sanctuary from the world.
All this you do for me because I am your son, your blood, the product of biological creation of you, I  give you worry and concern, interspersed with pride of an achievement at some splendid thing.
Oh mother of mine, understand my sadness and my darkness even, the light is still burning deep within  my soul,  however small, the flame still smoulders, awaiting the breath that fans it to burn brightly again.
My quietness may seem austere, but I mean no malice, it’s my way to deal with the disappointment. never forget, my love for you is deep, adorned with gratitude and respect for all that you give me.

Inside the back of a cigarette pack where a picture card sat I read about Mafeking and Cathay,
I saw 'Grace' with his bat and 'Miranda's fruit hat,steam ships and trains, which monarchs reigned,butterflies and stars,the age of the cars,airplanes and costumes,fruits and legumes,flowers and trees,birds of paradise which pleased me,pictures which teased me,
and all of this sat in the back of a pack
of cigarettes.