I'm wearing the old man's housecoat.
His lawn's not blue ribbon now,
And two rails of his fence are down.
It's blue and black checkered
Down to my ankles,
A long tie cord and massive pockets.
You've seen them in nursing homes,
The men shuffling in the wrong direction,
Looking for the familiar,
Two nails.

I'm wearing an old man's slippers,
Black leather with red in-steps
And leather fraying at the heels.
I bought these.

In the 2nd grade
a puppy love
crush on the
teacher steeped
deep in me

to my delight
her clear eyes
recognized the
promise of a
chubby boy
in all of his
quaint simplicity

her gentle
voice, friendly
and firm, filled
with caring instruction

the giddy class
attuned to her fresh
brunette bouffant, bunned
and perfectly coiffed,
speaking style and
youthful whimsy,
not a strand of hair
out of place

her svelte figure
flowed through
classroom isles
filling the space
with scented graces
of prescient carnations

that afternoon she
was abruptly called
from the class

when she returned
our beautiful princess
was sobbing

she concealed her face
then turned her back
on the class, crying
in a corner to dismayed
blushing blackboards

regaining composure
she turned
exposing her tear
stained cheeks
and dissheveled hair
to an unsettled class

“the President
hurt his back” she
announced.  “He’s
in the hospital.”

Whoa… I thought,
the President hurt
his back.  That's
terrible I surmised.

our beloved teacher
dismissed us
and resumed her
tearful grief

when I arrived home
my mother was
sitting on the bed
weeping.  “President
Kennedy is dead”
she blared.

my mother’s rumpled
housecoat and
tousled hair flattered
her flowing tears and
anguished sobs.

the tears of women
marked the end
of many puppy loves that day


Bob Marley & The Wailers
No Woman No Cry

Oakland
10/15/13
jbm

Two teenagers, unknown to each
Each wishing on a star
She, for eternal love
Him, a brand new car
They never knew their paths would cross
And their wishes they would get
She found her love, and him...a car
Don't leave...there's more here yet....

College years and future dreams
Still to come, with who?
Two teenagers growing up alone
I know what's next...do you?
He bought his car with money earned
From working hard at night
While she still waited for her love
Do you think they'll meet.....they might!!

When you wish upon a star
Remember which you picked
For now, you may get what you want
But, in the end....be tricked

Their paths did cross while he was out
He saw her walking in the rain
He couldn't stop to help her out
But he had to get her name
He did his run and went on back
Hoping she was still en route
She was soaked right through as he drove up
So, a dry ride home was moot

He took her home and she dried off
He sat waiting with a drink
She got all changed and then came out
He was not sure what to think
A t-shirt and her housecoat
Was all that she had on
She was sending him a message
He thought it time that he was gone

When you wish upon a star
Remember which you picked
For now, you may get what you want
But, in the end....be tricked

They dated from that night until
They decided they should wed
They were both near graduation
And they knew where they should head
They married and had children
They were perfect in every way
Imagine all this from a star
You wouldn't get all this today

As time went by, like it always does
They realized that their dreams
Were not the one's they used to share
They were ripping at the seams
The kids were always fighting
And I guess, they were too
Her dream of finding eternal love
I guess, had fallen through

When you wish upon a star
Remember which you picked
For now, you may get what you want
But, in the end....be tricked

They now slept in separate bedrooms
The kids were out and off to school
No matter what the weather
The house was always cool
They never spent a moment
Together anymore
The only ***, was a quick "*******"
As they passed on through the door

His car was dead and buried
With their marriage close behind
She'd wished upon a shooting star
And didn't like what she did find
Your dreams are what you make them
A star has a shelf life...don't forget
Before you wish upon one
Beware of what you'll get

When you wish upon a star
Remember which you picked
For now, you may get what you want
But, in the end....be tricked

I was scoped up.
Cradled in the palm of it. 
Wrapped in warming isolation.
Safe in a cozy cover of fear. 
Well today I hung up my housecoat for a moment.
And sought sunlight.
It was just as warm.
Jolting.
My housecoat hung upon a nail awaiting my return. 
I did as such. 
For a time.
Time passed as it's ought to. 
I retired my housecoat once more.
But to be worn again. 
This is a new dance to me.
An evolution upon a well worn frock. 
New golden satin with lace trim.
Worn proudly.
Hung proudly.
For both be
an opportunity of love.

It would be easy for me
To be a princess on Halloween;
I would don my housecoat and jewels,
Paint my face and pretend,
Twirling, through the night of dead wishes
And cling to the dear transience,
Dreaming that it could last.

Wafting through your home in a housecoat,
Ends trailing, you hold the railing.
Put cereal in your bowl, and eat it cold;
Thoughts dragged to dreams,
Your hands to your pen,
Putting words to emote the leaves
And they cling falteringly to starving trees
On the brink of release-
You sit back in your hard chair,
Almost not even there,
Gaze an empty stare,
You see beyond your caging walls,
Magic is alive! Songs in the skies and wind!
Who said crazy was a sin?
I'll say its amazing, go back to your dream
And draw it, paint it, write it again
See it, live it again.
And then, share some with me
So I, too can see.

she leans into the strain
forcing at the point

trying too hard painful
written all over her face

strives to be
the good (#2) wife

swears that she is
"a woman's woman"

but can't wait to stab
a sister in the back

wears her insecurities
like a gaudy housecoat

thinking unthinkingly
she has everyone fooled

professes love her mantra
while her eyes say bitter

maybe it's the palsy
bitterness of a crooked face

she's sure she can beguile
tilts her head a little too much

her up made pan cake face
creating powdered wrinkle rivers

keeps the leash short and tight
and thinks unthinkingly "he's mine"

she wound up tighter
than a dollar watch

he loose as a goose
has her well fooled

she winks as he slips the hood
one bad person de serves another

she believes he the perfect catch
I guess they are a perfect match


J.C.

skirts billowing in the cool wind,
the view of the town behind our backs.
her red nails clutching my rings,
desperately trying to find something tangible to hold onto.
pencilled in eyebrows in a permanent furrow.

we're planting him like a seed.
taking an object of permanence from the hearth at home,
from his slippers and his housecoat
and his comfortable bed
and lying him to rest on the hill.

she's standing by his side weeping.
it's like dragging an infant from its mother.
all she wants is to take him home,
dirt encrusted red nails
placing cold feet in warm slippers.

pulling a heart from its owner.

she's holding on harder than before,
pretending that my hands are his.

the grass blows like wispy tufts of his hair
and suddenly he is everywhere
and she is being ushered to the car
arms enclosed around her
white nails, pink nails, blue nails,
a manicured shawl of all the love we can give
to protect her from the pain of goodbyes.

skirts billowing in the wind,
turning back toward the town,
re-entering a world which he no longer inhabits.