"babysitters" poems
they emerge from the wooded neighborhood ridge and fringe at dusk
into breadth of lawn
& limb.
witchy chicks
casting banter n bitchcraft.
teenage dead end dreamers tipped in black magick lip gloss
& glitter, their
genderfluid familiars &/or wayward boyfriends apparate
in the street pink cloud spinning wheel,
& hawking bile.
****** stella smile.
swallow a hex, send a snap, tongue along his neck
promising to fold bodies before sunrise.
the effervescent gasp
of post-ritual clarity.
in the house,
is a kid.
a gig.
the devil with a younger grip.
& the kid thrills on a bit of the ol’
u l t r a v i o l e n c e.
****** videogames, ****** anime, ****** mayhem n melodic music.
he is a conduit of dark energy.
a pure blooded offering of the stone age/video age,
mind in a kind of kaleidoscopic way.
he is me.
bred on televised bucket slime ceremonials.
she checks her purse.
drugs & snacks & juul & a pretty dead bird.
a daughter of delphi watching your kid.
tending to him.
trending him.
popcorn smelling him, the texas chainsaw massacre on vhs just before bed.
palace of teeth n twigs.
just a short walk to the edge and then its bath time.
the demon version is grisly and cruel.
the angel version is starry-eyed and adventurous.
to conjure some
thing,
at the cliff jumping.
it was fun.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
I was never a simple person
but I craved simplicity like I craved my grandmother's strawberry jam
I loved school, whistling and everything taller than me
They reminded me of my father
I hated screen doors, cracks in pavement and goodbyes
When I was four he left me all those tainted things
but I loved him
Four years later
my mother asked me what I wanted for Christmas
I told her I needed a baby brother
I used to spend every night while he slept
at his feet
When I was eleven, my mother moved us to a new city
There were a million games of cops and robbers
and my first boyfriend, Spencer
He had blond hair and eyes so blue they put my brother's to shame
He told me he loved me under an oak tree
kissed my cheek and got so red in the face
I thought he was going to burst
My mother was in University
and had the softest piano hands
Her eyes were glossy from all her tears
I collected them in my jewellery box heart
There were rust on my edges
and hers
I was a rusty by product of drunk unintentions
A mathematic, scientific accident
Not a young mother with high hopes and goodluck
On Sunday afternoons I played hopscotch
on my babysitters driveway, I was nine
On Sunday evenings he brought me to his secret lair
He'd secretly touch me in all my secret places
I hated him
I think he hated me too
When I was six, I wanted to be a teacher
Ten years later, a man with a medical degree
told me I couldn't have babies
I couldn't look at another child, so I figured teaching wasn't my best option
Plus, I've never been a fan of teaching children not to make a mess
I spent my whole life making sure it wasn't messy
When I was fourteen, I wanted to run away
I wanted to go to Europe
with my best friend Oskari
he cut his arm and told me he couldn't really bleed
he didn't feel anything
I wanted to bless him
I wanted to read him Jane Austen in an open field
Under a single sycamore tree
We never made it
When I was seventeen, I ran away
I moved in with my father's mother
He has her eyes, just like me
That same year I met a boy
Who rode a stolen steed to my grandma's couch
Made love to me all night
took on me on walks and sent my heart off to the races
He made my life a little simpler
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
No regret, on the way I was raised.
Even if back in the day spanking was the thing.
It stopped me from trying to get my way.
My parents was firm.
My parents was stern.
And that discipline made me, who I am today.
Yes, I have no regrets to regret about my youth.
I did the usual stupid things that most kids still do today.
Except, we probably was more creative and imaginable then.
Especially when playing cowboys and Indians.
Just to hear one of your friends claim, they are Superman.
Which ruin everything.
Or tearing apart a good tricycle just to make your own go cart.
Or locating old doors to make your own tree house.
Computer games to us, was simply using your brain.
And having teachers really teach school skills to us.
Not giving you books and turning you on your own.
And not comprehending the subjects matter at hand.
In my youth, we mostly knew all the neighbors by name.
Even the mailman, as they was called then.
Even the neighborhood assigned police officer.
We knew not to create disturbance at school.
This was one of the vital parent's golden rule.
Then many parents was friends of the teachers.
And all they had to do was called.
Just maybe, this is what's so similar today?
Some kids, with modern parents still don't get their way.
Yes, no regret I have.
Respect and manners was, what you're judged by?
It simply was a representation of your parents too.
Many knew this as the God living truth.
Who doesn't remember saying your prayers on your knees as night?
You was taught God plays a very priority in your life.
No regret, I have.
If they was living today.
I still select to be raise that way.
Friends would do the same thing too.
Our parents was much respected by our friends.
Even if many was free babysitters.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 7:33 AM UTC
The sun kissed the horizon
The plump Russian babysitters have
Strolled away with their strollers
Long ago.
But I watched her make dinner
On the bark stove she carved into her mind.
She set the table with her fanciest china,
Tonight was a special occasion
I presumed.
She placed a heaping plate of potatoes
On the flower-splattered tablecloth,
Made to match the grass growing
Underneath her feet.
I could almost see the steam rising
From a distance
As she scooped each golden yellow tater
One by one into each dish:
First, second, third.
How sweet,
She’s preparing for our family dinner.
It will be as likely as the willow branches,
Serving as her ceiling,
Will protect her from lightning.
It starts to pour
I start to leave
The horizon has swallowed the sun whole.
I want to run back and tell her
That the willow will not be the only one
Weeping
some day.
The branches will curl onto themselves
And the stove will rust with age
Until it can no longer be used.
I turn
Behind her still thin lenses she peers at me
With twinkling eyes;
Penetrating my already thick ones.
Her head is like a protrusion of the tree.
I want to go back and tell her
To run away with me
Far away from the willow.
But all I can manage is
A heavy yawn
Ready to swallow
The glowing beacon hanging by a thread
In the sky.
How time has flown by
And how I wish,
My little darling,
That my memory of you
Stopped haunting my dreams.
She wanted to tell me
The willow is not as ***** as it seems.
But I’m not meant to make such predictions.
With a regretful tear I turn away
And run up the hill
To what I thought was higher ground.
Maybe one day
She will greet the journey with a smile.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 3:05 PM UTC
Trip Sitter Poem by Rob Sandman
We’ve all got a friend like this of course,
Istabraq, Seabiscuit the ould warhorse,
Snortin like a whale inhaling at the surface,
Smokes til just lookin’ at them makes your lungs hurt its-
Amazing grace while you’re off your face messed up,
They’re in the corner laughin' - not a hair mussed up,
**Not out of place in the place to be,
The opposite in fact a life saver to see,
Always at your back with a friendly shoulder,
A spliff, skins smokes-well timed glass of water**
Not immune or a ****** just seasoned,
When you’re lost-beyond all reason,
Lost the end of your sentence?-they’ve got it,
a well tuned part in the heart of the party chaotic,
The calm center of the whirlpool, Deadpool-
Quick with a line, not too cuttin’ but nobodies fool,
trip sitter, designated brain at the sesh,
A little OCD maybe, but nonetheless,
We’re all thankful with a full tankful
Its gas havin' a laugh knowin' you can bank full-
Confidence in your mates if you trip,
*But no mercy with the quips, quick! zip your lips
If you’re not in full control of the tongue,
They’ll be followin’ the slips and zip down your lungs
You’re a wounded gazelle on the plains and they’ll lunge,
Like a cheetah once you’ve taken the plunge*
I’m not talkin of only one person of course,
We all take turns as the tour de force-
goes round
**Like a Merry go round sound friends abound
While you’re bewildered the wildebeest takes the crown,
Don’t know about you, but I’m blessed with a few true-
Trip sitters babysitters life fitters diametrically opposed to bullshitters**
*Sideplitters with one liners that leave you gaspin’
For air beyond compare got the grasp and flavor
Best savour the moments-they’re all too few ,
Best friends are saviours who help you pull through,
So lets all give thanks to the big hitters,
Thanks lads and lasses I’m always grateful for me trip sitters!*
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 12:37 AM UTC
You know that saying that everything happens for a reason?
What’s the reason….
I was born a beautiful daughter
Not knowing each day alive would be another struggle
Left at a babysitters longer than expected
Little tiny baby no longer protected
Bounced around from town to town
Biological parents no where to be found?
Sick with illness, shadowed by fear
Why is this poor child destined to be here?
Skip ahead a few years
Baby is now a toddler
Pat and Lisa are mother and father
Growing everyday
Her faith getting a little stronger
Don’t be fooled
Her past did scar her
She’ll find this out later
From toddler to teen
Slipping deeper into trouble
Pre-K all the way up through
Smart as hell
Yet, fall behind
Defiant, rebellious, stubborn
Outsiders say oh she’s a typical teen
They don’t know she’s out of control
So lost, no where to go
Ups and downs
Can’t believe the little she’s told
She won’t reach out for a hand to hold
What’s ahead?
Nobody knows
Teen to adult
Avoiding the cult
Will she make it?
What about her past
How will she take it?
Can she bury it fast?
Might the truth
Ultimately scar her?
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 1:45 AM UTC
okay this isn't a poem but i babysit a little girl named Catherine and every time she comes to my house she has been ***** her diaper is always full of *** and sometimes **** from the day before, she never has been given a bath from what ive seen, and she is just now walking since i started babysitting she walks talks and asks for stuff but with her mom her clothes are ***** don't fit right and she is 18 months and still on a bottle? is this right i would love your opinion and any suggestions she also has 5 little teeth and she sometimes calls me mama. I bath her every day, i take her for a walk every day and she is a happy baby when she is with me at 18 months with 5 teeth is it time to change her routine? a sippycup and some solid food? she walks with shoes now and can walk on her own for 2 minutes at a time she is great with dogs and her mother wants her no where near animals at all
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 12:56 PM UTC
But “where are you going? Daddy.”
The words repeating under her breathe…
Mommy called.
Babysitters coming,
She’ll bring a pizza, and play a game.
Grandma. “why is she here.”
Whispers are exchanged outside, little ears don’t need to hear such
Business
Grandma. Leaves.
Mommy doesn’t come home till,
Later than usual.
With grandma.
We gather around the table.
Something is to be said.
…
“wheres daddy?’
Agenda:
Item #1: Padres Presence.
Guys… papas… gone.
Tears, like the murderous blow to a jugular, flows from my eyes.
It was merely those words that brought forth her reaction.
Not the actually death. How are you supposed to respond… to that? Those words?
She was only 15, adults can take it with dignity, but she just a babe.
Faces, they just saw, her.
They just, couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t know how to act.
Item #2: profanity.
The cause of a life to pass on,
“please, why couldn’t it have been sickness, car crash, ******
Just not that. Anything but
…please.
I awoke, in a tent, the fresh summer grass, its Wednesday.
Its also Wednesday, every drop of blood, only to cope with the hole in her childish heart
Endorphins they say: makes her heart beat.
…Now she hurts on the outside too.
Year later, as the heart beats, the pain is back, like an ol war wound.
The memories fade, the pain grows strong.
I hereby commit my life to saving those who struggle with depression, and helping the families of those who couldn’t get help.
I know how you feel, I love you.
Aug 14, 2011
Aug 14, 2011 at 10:24 PM UTC
My sister said I didn't raise myself
And maybe, in some ways I didn't.
But she doesn't understand
Just because we had babysitters
And that people were around
Doesn't mean that they raised me.
All my life I have been taking care of the people I love.
My friends
My family
Making sure if someone got hurt,
It was me.
My sister said that she grew up fast
But I grew up faster.
If I was to be loved then I had to be old,
I had to be an adult.
I'm not saying my life was always hell.
But if it was, then my family were demons
And I was the queen.
I protected my people
From a throne made of broken dreams
And a lost childhood.
The black on my soul will not
Wash off. But I was just protecting them.
I was their savior
But they didn't know it
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
When does life get fair?
How long does it take to dare
To wake each day and take the chance
That today is the day, life will become the Dance
We're born into a chaotic world
To parents that know not what to do
They do thier best to raise us up right
But this world sure gives them a fight
We grow so fast, our parents can hardly keep up
First an infant, then a toddler, soon a child, growth like a pup
We begin school, elementary to start
Twelve years go by like the beat of a heart
Teenage years start and pass as our parents continue to try
To catch the years that pass by them at the speed of light
Next thing you know, we Graduate from high school , move out, and start our own plight
Our parents watch us as we grow from infant to adult
And they marvel at the people we have become
Remembering the days we played horseyback on the floor
Next thing they know, we're out the door
We find that special someone, get married or not
Have children of our own, the cycle begins again on the spot
We remember what we've put our parents through, then
We're always on the phone asking for advise about when
Our children will follow the milestones we did
We depend on our parents as babysitters to our kids
They're our advise givers and our best friends and they forgive
Grandparents they become after a full life lived
Our children grow as fast as we did
We try so hard to keep them as a kid
Maybe, someday, Grandparents we will be, early or not
Only time will tell, time is what we got
Life as we know it has changed once again
The time has come for our parents time to end
We spend as much time as possible before the end of thiers
Knowing in our heart of hearts, They'll soon see those glorious stairs
They will rise from this chaotic world
Up to Heaven and join God's fold
Relief from pain and peacefulness awaits them on the other side
We watch them go, only along for the ride
Someday peace comes to us all
Family gone before us standing tall
Within the Pearly Gates we will be
Our Savior Lord Jesus Christ with thee
And someday walk hand in hand from this chaotic world
To the best place we could ever be
No more pain, no more grief, no more chaos, we are free
The Golden Gates of Heaven we see
We leave behind a precious few, Knowing that someday, they will be with us too
Oct 7, 2024
Oct 7, 2024 at 7:44 PM UTC
that crick in your neck when you're looking at books
sometimes violets pop up early
there is always chocolate
it's fun to get letters in the mail
things are going to be ok.
rainbows happen (or you can just draw some)
there are babysitters getting bored of peek-a-boo
drinking really cold water when you just finished exercising
again, chocolate
i know this looks like
nothing more than a list
but, it's a new year and
for some reason
in the middle of
silly traditions
we can get a little
booster of hope.
things are going to be ok.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 9:39 PM UTC
Maria Messier, a registered nurse turned entrepreneur based in Clifton Park, said she has “created a solution to a “growing” problem.”
Though she has been a nurse for 15 years, Messier said she has always had “an entrepreneurial mind.” After having four children and experiencing the discomforts of pregnancy during harsh northeastern winters, Messier decided to come up with her own solution to a problem pregnant women have been dealing with for ages — how to make your winter coat fit as you grow through your pregnancy, without buying a huge coat you won’t ever wear again.
She realizes maternity coats are nice, but noted not everyone can afford to buy a new coat for their pregnancy. “They are expensive and are used for such a short time,” she said.
She calls it the Extendher and it can be used during pregnancies and after for holding your baby hands-free. It is an extending panel which clips onto outerwear with a zipper. According to their website, the product has adjustable pull toggles to ensure a great fit throughout each stage of pregnancy.
Having experienced the frustrations of coats that refused to zip first-hand, Messier began to wonder why something like the Extendher did not already exist. She shared the idea with her aunt, Joanne Frank of Schenectady, at a family gathering. Frank, who worked as a fashion designer for 40 years, told her niece, “You are on to something,” and agreed to create the first prototype.
“After many tweaks and changes, our final extendher was born,” said Messier.
She said the best part is that you can still use the product after having a baby by using it as a baby carrier. The Extendher is not only for expectant mothers, but can also be worn by fathers, grandparents and babysitters. Messier said “Babywearing is huge right now, so customers really love this option.” The Extendher comes in a variety of colors. Heavyweight and lightweight options are available for different seasons.
The business, Extendher LLC, became official in 2015. Messier said their product has been featured on Elaine Houston’s “Today’s Women” on News Channel 13, WNYT.
“Most importantly,” said Messier, “we are 100 percent made in the USA, manufactured in upstate NY.” The Extendhers are being manufactured in Little Falls, New York.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 2:16 AM UTC
Raised by my father
I was knee high to a grasshopper
My brothers and sister and I had
Many Nannies and Babysitters
When I turned sixteen
I applied for my drivers permit
The paperwork returned
Wrong date of birth
It had to be a mistake
Crazy right everyone knows
their own birthdate
I Requested my birth certificate
Come to find out
My birthday is 13 days later
I felt lost in the shuffle
Forgotten hurt
Of course leave it to
One brother to call every year
On my fake birthday
Laughing
happy fake birthday
the irony I was my father’s favorite
Charmin Carmen
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 5:20 AM UTC
called
******* three AM
fast asleep I didn't answer
that is when the earth shook
the 747 crashed and two people
aboard survived
and the survivors appeared on CNN thanking God
I was having a dream about
babysitters I think or
raw bare muffs
muffins getting stuffed
i forget
anyways
I appeared in my dream all staring
back inside me laughing
you are an imbecile
my me said coarse
harsh
I then awoke
I ain't gonna take **** from my **** self
tried to call me out
fight like a man
you imbecile
I had divided thoughts
I and me presumed
and doubts along a thin line
left or right
and in between
as fisticuffs met jaws and legs tangled up
noses bent but
most of the damage went to
knuckles aching again
that night
God's office
didn't call
I don't
know why
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 6:50 AM UTC