Saturday Night

Piggy back rides
Squeals and screams
Playing games
Sharing dreams

Questions and mysteries
You’re locked in a room
The dark is barking
He wants to play too

Where’s dad?
He’s working the grill
It’s Saturday night
At the Graybill’s!

Self Reflection

The sun highlights the cracks in my skin
My double chin
I see the toll under my eyes
The width of my thighs 
The hair thin, as color fades
Replaced with gray
As I be peer inside the aging skin and inquire to my source within
When?
When have I loved that which was given to me?
When will I attain serenity?
The pleasure of joy and ease
The movement of morning breeze?
The quiet of cosmic planes spreading vastly…
Knowing me and all that I truly am
When?

Intrusion

Parsing through the pain
Viewing the intrusion
Of horrible manipulations
You, the perfect victim

You screech and curse
Then nuture on a turn
All in service of the game
Your lies are all the same

As you pretend to ponder on your luck or fate
Never opening to the possibility of responsibility
You ask, “What can you do for me?”
Then you take

and take
and take
and take

You rest in the ease
And do as you please
Never a thought or care
Your life is our dispair

Service

We falter
And we rise
Our truth
Our disguise

In service
To all that need
We give
And we grieve

That others do not see
Still we share
And spread
This is our creed

If not in our hearts
We will pretend
Your illusion
That we bend

But it’s a greater master we serve
That all who touch us
Do deserve a dignity, grace, and gratitude

A peace where the world sometimes crashes
and dashes
the hopes
in the smallest of ways

We give back to you
in service

Movement

I feel the pain and the anxiety
Of the position blessed
I pray and send my love
That you shall bring your lover forth to the light

 The city of dark, wet streets beckons
Its hearth is its openness
An otherwise squelched breath
Yet full of creativity, and life, and knowing

 The light of seeing and being
One’s true self
Flying in the face of tradition and stealth
No secrets here

 Only God’s openness
Only seeing and being and knowing what one needs to be
No judgment or limits
He is free

 To see
Cleary
And to be
His true self

Summer Hangin’

Hey Ollie

Yes Jack

I’m sitting in my chair.

Hey Jack

Yes Ollie

Are you comfy there?

Hey Ollie

Yes Jack

These monster chairs rock!

Hey Jack

Yes Ollie

We don’t got on socks!

Hey Ollie

Yes Jack

We’re wearin’ the same shorts.

Hey Jack

Yes Ollie

Do you think we should covort?

Hey Ollie

Yes Jack

I rather sit and drool…

Hey Jack

Yes Ollie

Hangin’ here is cool!

Pirate School

When I was three
I overheard
A discussion that seemed so absurd!
Go to a public or Pirate school
Learn ABCs
Or search for jewels
To me, it seemed the answer was clear
Get an eye patch and grow a beard!
Acquire a parrot
Learn to sail
Practice my ARGHHH
And follow the whales
Swordfighting, map skills, brawling and singing
Hoisting the sails and climbing the rigging
Now I may be young but I know what is right
Between public and Pirate there is no fight!
Pirate school is what it MUST be
And I know it all, because I am three

For little Miss M who inspires big smiles

Bearanoia

Unscented lotion must be rubbed
And all the dishes must be scrubbed
Never toss the water out
Or brush your teeth by the spout
Change the clothes you wore while cooking
For the bear is always looking
It is too much for the bruin
When in your tent you leave the food in
Never run or scream in fear
When confronted by the bear
Keep eye contact and back away
If attacked, cover your head and pray
The most important lesson of the bear
Keep it clean and stay aware!

Revolutionary Road

All their lives a great bit mess.
Hoped for more
Got something less.
Thought themselves to special be.
Trapped in mediocrity.

Pain of life too much to bear.
Perfect lipstick, perfect hair.
Numbing , coping, trying to breath.
Trapped in mediocrity.

Where does satisfaction lie
When all you want to do is die?
There are no more tears left to cry.
The life you lead, enormous lie.

Drained of any feelings dear.
No more to see, no more to hear.
Despiration, no pity.
Trapped in mediocrity.

Lilly

She’s lovely
There
Buried in the perceptions of second daughter
A joy and a Fury
Sometimes it’s harder
Not to be
Lost in the countenance of ME
The second
Not the first
Neither best, nor worst
But this one and ONLY spark
Fills the room with passion and heart
A quiet breath of pure beauty
An inspiration
That IS Lilly