Crabby Temperament

A harsh retort to a simple request,
a sudden slap across the face;
abuse by any standard, one that raises
the hackles along your neck,
but often times these outbursts
indicate a sublime pain
chronic and unrelenting
incurred when they were younger.

Even a docile pet will react aggressively
when a rotting tooth or cancer
develops internally. Sometimes
the cure is simple, take a nap,

get some privacy, go to the doctor

swallow a pill, talk about what hurts inside

instead of taking it out on everyone

around you. 

Joyful Journey

It is easy to hide away
closeted, refuse to play
caught-up in an insulated
mind, buried in pain,
distrusting those
who would hurt you,
seeking solace in a virtual world

escape through electronic
bytes to people far away
key strokes for communication,
posted pictures and tweets

to a world who has forgotten
how to socialize the old fashion way

or to commune with nature, instead

stooped over a keyboard and screen

with information at their fingertips
world views and world news,
keeps them busy with information
but in the scheme of things doesn’t matter

better to go outside and play
learn to celebrate each day
interact with all or life
letting laughter and love fill your heart
take the journey of a lifetime.

Reuniting in a Dream

I finally fell asleep
after 2:00 A.M. but then entered
a dream that brought me to a high school reunion.
I was young again and wore a red dress

with a long sash tied to the shoulder
my hair was up at the sides
but left to flow down my back
it was thick and wavy like I remember it.

I walked into a room to sit with women
I didn’t know so I kept looking around
for someone I recognized

I saw a principal who sat
on the panel that hired me
seems we were better friends then I recalled.

Conversation was cordial

we hurried to catch a monorail

that took us to the snow

we sped across the open terrain
admired cities along the mountain sides
talking about highlights after all these years.

Then we went our separate ways
a diamond bracelet covered my tattoo
I met you and we walked down the path
hand in hand, together again. 

Papal Selection

He is St. Peter here on earth,
the rock upon which Christ
built his church,
designed to withstand

the challenges of time:
persecution, conversion, inquisition,

a lust for power and rampant with scandals.

Two stories now buzzing in the news:
The first one is the current pope is gay,

notice his penchant for exquisite clothing,
a vestment horse by any standard,
who wants to avoid the shame

of child abuse and sexual impropriety.
Rumor has it a group of male prostitutes

want to cash in on the gold
and will reveal the truth unless
duly compensated.

Somewhere in the mess lies the truth
the faithful gather round in prayer,
some seeing the gossip as the work
of the devil, designed to confuse
and break bonds to the church.

So... whoever is selected
must have strong shoulders
and be able to put things back into order 

his integrity must be above reproach

his holiness more than an act:

prayer must be an open communication

to heaven, be able to guide his followers

to live better lives filled with good works

to encourage kindness towards each other. 

Faith

What brings the faithful
to a church with stained glass windows
in a big box where they pray
with others like themselves?

Seems a better place would be in an open field
where they can see the clouds and sky
hear the birds and see the flowers
to celebrate the god above and be grateful
for the many blessings.

Perhaps in the box it is easier for the rules 
to control the people, herded into a confined room
to hear the word of god, read from ancient
scripture, interpreted by a man upon a pedestal

because in the freedom of an open space
with plenty of sunlight and natural stimulation
each individual might get their own message
from the bounty of the lord they wish to celebrate.

Better to be controlled in an environment
with a crucified cross on the altar
to remind the congregation of the fierceness
of a god who would sacrifice his only son

and demand compensation from the sinful,
a blood offering for the willful disobedience
of their ancestors. 

If I am to call God my father
I look at my own Daddy
and know that he would never ask for my life
he would offer his own instead

protecting me from harm, doing whatever it took
and forgiving me for my trespasses
teaching me how love transcends sin

holding me in the safety of his loving arms. 

Path to the Oscars

For some, the path is short,
acknowledged at an early age
put upon the public stage and admired.

Too soon they fade from view
forgotten except as a tribute
on some misplaced list brought up
to be remembered in memorandum.

For others the path is clear
frequently nominated but never chosen
watching others walk away with the coveted

golden statue every year.

There are those whose work is profitable,
bankable figures on the silver screen,

liked by many except 
the esteemed members

of the academy.

Then there is Meryl Streep  
and Daniel Day Lewis, 
three time sweeps
taking home an Oscar 
almost every time they’re nominated.

For the majority the Academy is a chance
to get dressed up, walk the red carpet
attend the parties and more than likely

walk home without an Oscar. 

Fashion Flaws

She stands in place along the row
of tables to sew pre-cut patterns
for school uniforms

those tweed patterns of blue and green
jumpers for the little ones and skirts,
for the teenage girls

the rat-a-tat-tat of the sewing machines
create an identical look for the Catholic lasses
a perfect standardized look
designed to neutralize status

like bricks in the wall
little soldiers in the army of the lord
committed to doctrine, prayer and good works
a cut above the rest 

better than those in public schools.

but when she is out on her own
away from the tutelage of women in robes
free to wander the town 

she hikes the skirt
above her thighs, unrolls her socks
up to her knees and walks down the street
so wild and free, 

hungry for the wild sideof life, 
where the lights are bright
and boulevard cruised by unsavory types, 
mysterious and tattooed.

Quickly slipping back to the safety of home
loved by her mother and father
trusted by her sisters and brothers
to do the right thing and walk the narrow path
towards heaven’s gate 

leaving the gutters and grime
for the impoverished ones
standing in a row with others 
who must sew to make ends meet.