Fairies Angels Butterflies

Little fairies, little angels
little butterflies around us flit
stay oh so still
and watch them fly
right out of our very midst.

Babies to girls, girls to women
they'll soon be grown and gone
stay oh so still
and watch them fly
right out of our very midst.

This flower of our dreams...

This little one
who runs - who flies! -
who races the wind
will touch the sky
when we are slow
and old and gone.

But the light from our eyes
will shine in her sight
and our passion for life
will help lessen her strife
as she reaches for stars
forever.

Today I Woke...

I sleep on my side
fetal position
knees drawn tight
to my chest
taking the blows
on my back
protecting my innards

I sleep on my side
mummy in sarcophagus
arms crossed tight
across my chest
holding my shoulders
wrapped in the linen
of nightmares

I sleep on my side
head tucked in
chin drawn tight
to my chest
holding my lips
closed lest they
dare speak the pain

Today I woke
leg stretched out
arm flung upward
head thrown back
resting on the pillow
three quarter turned
smile with eyes closed
a great body shot

Today I Awoke...

Perhaps he would be nine now

nine in some cold uncaring orphanage

or nine in the luxury of some

ritzy suburb

nine years into life

cursing our anonymity

yet longing to know his past

nine now, and soon nineteen

to be parenting bastards of his own.

Would we have broken under

being parents at nineteen?

The real bastards - us.

Thoughts in vain

he didn't even live to see

the second trimester.

A mother - a writer once said to me Do what will endure because she was of love and of good humor because she was of joy and caring for un-met friends. I tried. Now I write and play with my child who knows not of dirty dishes in the sink, unmade beds, bathtub ring, of dust collecting on oak and maple, of records clothed in other jackets, but gives me of herself her toothless smile and sometimes of her oatmeal.

Untitiled

Writing and scribbling
hoarding my little words
a miser could not be greedier
with his gold.

Wild haired, wide eyed
crazy to the world
this is what keeps us safe
this is what keeps me sane.

When I Dream of My Son

I had dreams about my son

when he swam in my womb

i want to say contentedly

but no, he was full of energy

Then he was born

arriving at a later date

than he was due

but fast in his arrival

after weeks of making

his impending arrival known

my son was born

but not the one I had seen

It was many years

before he became

the son he had been

the one I had seen

He taught me chess

he was strict, I tried

he made me exercise

in Rehab, I cried

He writes short

tough love notes

"eat right, exercise

see a credentialed therapist"

you’re too young for this shit.

He let me play his drums

it made my anger at

his drumming father 

lessen just a little bit

I dream about my son

and every dream is

one less dream

of my father’s unseen hands

I dream about my son

and every dream is

one less dream
about his father

When I dream about my son

I wake up with a smile

that he exists, a man

and that I exist at all.