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Thursday, June 30, 2011

June dribbles - 30

Maybe too tired to think;
Could go into the kitchen; drink
All bitter dark
Deep-scented coffee brewing;
Burbling sound
Evoking stomach gurgle. Blink…
Renewing secret longing, tells
Of warming chocolate smell
Smooth-flowing silver round the tongue;
Silkily melts;
Well-harbored scent belongs
To sleep,
Sweet-dreaming deep
And dark
Like coffee.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

June dribbles - 29

Your eyes
Have watched, reminding me
There was a time
I thought I’d never need your
Shining eyes
There watching me.

Your eyes
Measured my weakest glance
This happenstance
Makes you seem ever-wise
Wiser than me
There watching me.

Your eyes
I cannot see through mine
So I wear these.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

June dribbles - 28

“Are you sure you’ll manage?” she asks.

I’m not exactly helpless. “I think I’ll cope.”

She heads out the door. By the time she’s home I’ve shut the kids in their rooms, thrown toys across the floor, and broken the phone. She didn’t answer!

“Couldn’t hear you in the store.”

June dribbles - 27

D’you remember going on roller-coasters with me?
‘Member holding my hand?
‘Member holding me tight?
D’you remember pretending your shirt wasn’t damp with my tears?
D’you remember it Dad?
D’you remember it right,
‘Cause you made me believe I was brave all those long years ago?
I’m grateful, dear Dad.

June dribbles - 26

Last time they played, Dave threw his cards across the room and walked out. Jess cried. The time before, Alex complained Dad only cared about winning. “Well, it’s a game; you’re meant to want to win.” But this time… “Hey guys; why you ganging up on me?”

“It’s teamwork, Dad.”

June dribbles - 25

Jen went donkey-riding. Mums and Dads laid towels on muddy beach to wait. Baby-Ann thought lumps of brown were peanuts; wanted to share. Mum said no. Tom wanted to marry Jen one day. “Not today.” It rained. Donkeys didn’t care. Tom found a diamond in the sand. Ten years later…

June dribbles - 24

He comes home from work, so tired, can’t play.
He’s fixing the yard, still can’t play.
He’s counting finances, so tired, can’t play.
He’s busy. There’s no time today.

He comes home from school, so tired, can’t talk,
From work, from his kids, from a walk;
No time Dad today.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

June dribbles - 23

“Fathers’ Day,” said one.
“Yup,” said the other.
“You got kids?”
“See them?”
“Want to see them?”
“Wouldn’t want them to see me like this.”

“Fathers’ Day,” said the assistant. “Happy Fathers’ Day to any dads out there.”
They took their soup and rolls, saying, “Thank you, Son.”

June dribbles - 22

When it was mothers’ day Dad sent him out to pick flowers. He brought her a bunch of dandelions, some bright like suns, some fluffy with white bobble-hats.
When it was fathers’ day Mom send him out to pick flowers. But he brought back beetles, spiders, snails and a worm.

June dribbles - 21

There’s a store in town prides itself on healthy, local, natural, what you really want to eat. They wanted gluten-free, lactose-free, vegetarian and not too spicy for Fathers’ Day. Amazingly enough they had plenty to choose from; mother and son now value this store as helpful, imaginative, interesting and delicious.

June dribbles - 20

Beer, check; fresh-baked bread, check; French cheese, check; Danish pastries, check; Black Forest ham,; hummus, tapenade, green salad with strawberries; fresh-squeezed orange; fresh-whipped cream; fresh and delicious, she checks the items one by one from her list. Paper and pens and bright colored ink; “Let’s make a Fathers’ Day card.”

June dribbles - 19

The old man lay in bed, young man by his side. “What you done with my wife?”
“Nothing Grandpa. I came to see you for Father’s Day.”
“Whose father? What you done with my son?”
“Nothing Grandpa. I came to say hi.”
“How high?”
“High as heaven and loving you.”

June dribbles - 18

The old man sat by the phone, tea-cup in saucer, dregs in cup, crumbs neatly gathered next to a drip on the plate. He sat with his eyes turned far away and listened to the sound of surf, of sand, of moving tanks, of war. Son doesn’t phone him anymore.

Friday, June 17, 2011

June dribbles - 17

He phoned his wife from the airport. “I’m on my way home.”
“See you tomorrow,” she said.
His day was her night, his flight a whole life; then his phone beeped the magical words—Baby’s arrived!
He phoned his wife when he landed, then rushed to see mother and child.

June dribbles - 16

Mothers get breakfast in bed. Fathers get socks.
Mothers get bunches of flowers. Fathers get ties.
Mothers get boxes of chocolates. Fathers get socks.
Mothers get beautiful scarves. Fathers get ties.
Mothers get washing and cleaning. Fathers get socks.
Mothers get cooking the dinner. Fathers get ties.
Parents get love.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

June dribbles - 15

Stand still. He’s like a doll with painted smile and hair just so.
Stand still. Ready for school, socks sliding down, aching to grow.
Stand still. He spreads his wings and flies.
Stand still. He graduates and smiles.
Stand still. Son grown to father tells his own child wait awhile.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

June dribbles - 14

We’ve sailed the whole world over, haven’t found the rainbow’s end. We’ve ridden floods and tides and dreams. “My rainbow,” says God. “My sign.” It seems He loves us after all, calls us His children.

I don’t know how you rebuild a world after flood but I know God does.

Monday, June 13, 2011

June dribbles - 13

Mothers cried while children played and fathers killed the meat for sacrifice. Grandfather prayed. Saved, that’s what he said. Saved from wind, rain and flood. Saved from sinners who wouldn’t obey. Saved from… but saved for what? Mothers cried, wondering how to rebuild their lives. Fathers whispered, “We’ll be okay.”

June dribbles - 12

Granddad keeps sending birds out—hunting for dry ground he says—but everywhere’s sea. My uncle says there’s some land over there. Mom says it’s got to be the top of a mountain after all this rain. There’s dead animals in the water—dinner maybe? Granddad says God says no.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

June dribbles - 11

Didn’t know in the end if it was wind, rain, or floods blew everything away. Friends, neighbors, crops and animals; all of it under the waves. Rolling clouds and sea like the world’s gone crazy, like God’s gonna blow us all away. Dad leads us in prayers, says we’re saved.

Friday, June 10, 2011

June dribbles - 10

The river’s trickle looked more like a torrent this morning. Still too hot, crops burning, neighbors gathering water. Thick black clouds rolling to the west of us, like midnight. Wonder what’s coming. Shem’s Dad’s got this boat-thing in his yard, piling animals in, and seeds. Says we should come too.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

June dribbles - 9

Great-grandpa Methuselah was getting old—over a hundred; over a thousand I’m sure. Uncle Ham was seriously worried about the farm and the way it never rained; how it got so hot. The river was dry. We need some snowmelt from the mountains, said Granddad, then he built an ark.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

June dribbles - 8

It was dry when she sat there, green with spring’s promise, and he promised a picnic if she’d just wait for him. Just dashing to the car. And then it rained. She rather thinks he’s in the dry wondering why she doesn’t hurry to join him but water’s like crying.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

June dribbles - 7

“Come back.”
He slipped away from me
Small pest
While others stood to be
In photos
Somehow always he
An arm
A leg perhaps must be
In every photograph.

My brother
Getting married then
My son
Laughing escaped again
The bride
Welcomed her tiny friend
But please…
In every photograph?

June dribbles - 6

Keeping open wary eyes to
Watch the children’s next surprise you
Find that sleep has conquered night’s few
Moments and you dreamed you’d
Share them with the one beside you
But he’s dreaming too.

Closing now those wary eyes you
Dream the same as he and smile to
Touch him.

June dribbles - 5

My brother bought the records. Dad had the record-player. I wandered round the house trying not to be seen while I danced to the beat, feather duster in hand (I was helping Mum), and imagining… the handsome man, the music and the dream…
“Who?” asked Mum.
“Beetles. Bugs. Junebugs.”

June dribbles - 4

Parking-lot’s full of trucks. Cycle-rack’s full of bikes. Bar’s full of real men drinking real beer and telling real tales of real war.
The old man nods his head, heart filled with memories of friends long gone—the sea reminds him how they died.
Small girl says, “Come home Grandpa.”

June dribbles - 3

“Daddy, I’m bored,” said the boy on the train. His father told him “Be quiet.”
“Daddy, I’m bored,” said another boy. His father said “Read a book.”
“Daddy, I’m bored,” said a third boy on the train.
Putting his smart phone back in its case, this father said, “Let’s play.”

June dribbles - 2

Father, tired from work, came home seeking the paper or TV away from others’ wants and needs; mother, weary from the day, kept kids out of his way, washed, played, fed, sent to bed, while words unsaid still festered in her head; till Dad came home and Mom was gone.

Monday, June 6, 2011

June dribbles - 1

Where is
Where am
Where will be
My fractured mind
The plan
And time
The future.
I real
Or still
Or will
I lose
The way
I sought
To choose.
I feel
And plan
To see
To find
Where minds
And thoughts
Can’t hide.

Friday, June 3, 2011

May dribbles - 31

Hungry after the long cold winter, tired after sleep, and weary with the sodden leaves of fall still round his feet, he strolled into town.
Panicked by the sight of him in the school-yard they called the police.
Worried by their dart-guns he climbed a tree.
Black bear in Portland.

Based on a recent news story in the Oregonian.

May dribbles - 30

Grandpop wore his Burberry coat. He told the children to be careful. “It’s my best coat, is this.”
“But why’s it got bear berries on?” asked Sam.
“What’s bear berries?”
“Like when rabbits leave berries in the grass.”
Grandpop took his Burberry coat off before any harm could be done.

May dribbles - 29

Monday’s bear is soft and sweet
Tuesday’s bear is tall and neat
Wednesday’s bear likes honey to eat
Thursday’s bear thinks chocolate’s a treat
Friday’s bear is loving and giving
Saturday’s bear plays games for a living
And Sunday’s bear, white-dressed and bright
Was baptized with baby, a heavenly sight.

May dribbles - 28

She sat and muttered to herself on the shelf herself as others went by, bearing lives denied to her. Was she too old, too gray, too short, too fat? Were her eyes too bright?

The seamstress sewed her hand to her mates and sold them as a pair—wedding-day bears.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

May dribbles - 27

Her cousin was dressed in communion-day white. Uncle wore Sunday best. Neighbors gathered to celebrate, sang prayers for the happy sight.

Rumbling truck-wheels startled her. Squealing tires; rattling gun-fire; uncle fell in pool of flowing blood. She grabbed her cousin, white dress staining, strained to comfort her, offered a bear.

May dribbles - 26

The ship was steely hope as soldiers boarded. “No more. No more,” officers ordered. “Hold firm. We’ll be back for sure.”

War’s angry shots devoured; ship’s black hull blazed, blackened and sank. No more. Soldiers to prisoners to graves till only one remained, clutched ragged clothing like a teddy bear.

May dribbles - 25

Ground shook as bombs rained down around. Fathers guarded the shelter door. Mothers hugged babies. Children struggled with homework by candle-light. At the all-clear they staggered out. Night shaded with smoke. Houses fallen. Flames and ash.
A teddy-bear lay on the grass. Small child picked him up as she passed.