TeenAge: Disgruntled Again


Disgruntled youth once again

As I tell him the score

What’s in store?

You must do school work

I don’t want to says he

But you’re in school I chuckle silently


Anger and stomping reminiscent of two

Can I see this teacher?

Can I see that one?

Look, get settled into school work you see

Yes, that’s what she’ll do he says finally

He sits and is quiet


Could happen it’s true


Yet a young lady in the back

Thinks she’s the one to undo

No discipline for her

As she laments her state

Watching youtube

The volume up too


But an administrator comes

The door’s right behind

Not the cleverest mind

Privilege revoked

Books only now rule

That’s the way it is


ISS or not, it’s school







I called and a man’s voice answered

“Who is this clown? Is she living with someone”, I thought

Not sure I should leave too much information

Just in case I dialed it wrong

But I wanted to try again

How wonderful to get in touch

After all this time, too long

For best friends from school days

Let’s communicate so I called one more time

The same voice and recording

Something didn’t sit

No message this time I kept my silence

So is that it?


I can’t forget

Someone crosses my path on another day

What is it about her face?

As if we know each other

But we don’t, not yet

Her name is familiar from way back when

I asked and her reply took me some time to realize

And then I knew, from your son a dad now

One of five, the fourth, yes it was

All your kids still alive and I asked

Her grandma is you my friend from the past

Just like me with a grandchild

The stories to tell and conversation to be had

I couldn’t believe it so I asked about the voice for the message

The answering machine that no one has these days

Voicemail rules, not a tape to rewind

Reminisce, a remnant of older times

Saving the planet so sublime


Life has taken its toll my friend on you in the end

In a home with the elderly though it’s not your time yet

You reside

They’re crazy, you’re not and I excitedly asked

Were you caring for them as you heal your mind?

Too much revelry and drink has caused your undoing

Over all this time

You’d tried so hard in passed days, not that long ago

We’re young yet

I remember seeing you working though speaking took time

“It takes me a minute to think, to reply, but I want to do what you do”

So happy I gave some advice, my profession I knew

So happy for you and you looked good getting over those days

Our youth and mistakes, wrong decisions we were supposed to make

An inalienable right dare not take it away

You wanted to succeed and not imbibe anymore, close that door

No substances, you wouldn’t let them rule was in you to do

What has happened my friend?

My heart to you I send as if it were something that could mend

Any and all things

It could’ve been me too, not only you


Those days in time were a world in turmoil, a wrong way

But we didn’t know then

Go out and party innocent enough

But you didn’t give it up not exactly glory days

What did you live with at home, what happened

What did I never know?

Yet one man and five children later down the road

How beautiful they all were, they are even now

And their children, your grandchildren as beautiful as you

Strange turns life takes and decisions we make

We’re adults, we should know something is not always true

Life is learning

My heart aches at this news


They all love you always did and will forever

I remember from before and it hasn’t changed

You gave them the best of yourself and they passed it to theirs

What’s inside you is pure it’s the person I knew

I remember and I remember you

Sometimes the body doesn’t do what we say

It’s difficult to heal do you think

I must find you again

Do you recognize me or walk away

Maybe not want to know anymore who I am

A chance I’ll take and a quest I will make

I will find you my friend where you stay

If there’s good then it’s yours

I’m in for your cause so worthwhile you can depend

Let there be life again it is not yet the end

How many years fleeted will not take a toll

As the future unfolds you’ll see the many days it still holds


Teenage Days


He enters angry, his head down

No smile

Scowling frown

“Excuse me”, I say

“Is this your name?”

But he doesn’t speak

“Yoo-hoo, hello, I’d like to know

I’m the teacher you see

Whatever you did

Now your time’s with me

And your fellows beside”

He keeps his head down

He won’t reply

I chuckle deep

“Well, I guess this is you”

As I check his name

“You’re the one they called said

He’s coming, be prepared”

No reason to fear

Nor be scared


“Do you think it’s funny!”

He snaps, grrr, grr

“What happened to you?


But I didn’t do it

You did something

That sent you my way

All I do is make comfortable your stay

Though inconvenient it be


I’m laid back you see”

He softens some

Reason is sound

An administrator comes

He loses his ground


His calm is gone

He makes a demand

To call his father

“I want my Dad!”

“OK, come on

To the office

We’re gone”

She takes him away

Backpack and all

Never to return

So sad, so true

Hope his weekend pans out

As we left the room early

For better things to do

At the close of day

And went our separate ways


Bless accursed teenage

You never know

How reaction will go

When it puts on its show


Hips, Haws, And Harrumphs


The hips and haws signal

Summer’s gone

Fall and early winter are in play

We sleep now


As Persephone returns to the Underworld

Prepare yourself

Take heart

Soon enough it’s spring

Life returns

It never leaves


What the cycle brings



Cozy by the hearth

Bundle up stay warm

Watch safe from a window

Should winter early storm

Enjoy one final harvest

Welcome early frost

There’s warmth underneath

Where foliage sleeps

The heart it has no bounds

Listen to the silent snow

Watch flakes swirl around


“The prompt this week is:


… the hips and haws signal …”






The Waterfall



It was actually a reservoir and we weren’t supposed to be there. The water ran over an extended ledge down a rock-worn slide becoming a trout stream. Everyone swam there though. There were flat grassy places surrounding that some nights became as populated as a drive-in. Of course you didn’t know how populated until the police car came driving up shining its floodlight rousting everyone out. If you were in a more secluded spot you could hide until they left. Then it was back to the blanket, wine, pot and sex. I can still feel the dry soreness from never getting enough on those sweet, sweet summer nights.


There had been rain, so much rain the reservoir was overfull and the waterfall could have been Niagara Falls from the way it looked. We’d gone up for a swim in broad daylight the first sunny day, pulling into our favorite secret place to park the car and following one of the many paths made by man that led to hidden spots for swimming the police couldn’t easily get to, besides, there was no law against picnics and barbecues. There was just no swimming. We’d swum, fed our heads and finally decided to head back for sustenance. Instead of going around like we usually did we set out across the ledge, not the smartest move with the current as strong as it was, but the worst of it wouldn’t be until the edges that curved downhill with the waters spilling over at their strongest. You know what it’s like when you pour liquid out of a pail. The water in the center is evenly smooth but at the sides is that convergence. There was a small enough gap where the ledge ended lined with rocks under any other circumstance easy enough to cross over to the grass, but it was a giant step to get over rushing white water. We should have taken the long way around.


We’d made it from one end to the other, where we began not being as threatening as where we were headed. All that was left was crossing that one last place and not losing our footing. Fred walked ahead of me not holding my hand. It took all his effort to keep his balance. The game plan had unfolded so far so good that he’d step and I’d step behind where his foot sort of blocked the current without calculating in where Mother Nature might throw in a monkey wrench. That’s about how it happened. “You’re not as bad as you think,” she said as Fred lost his footing and the current knocked me off the ledge. Down the not-as-smooth-as-I-would’ve-liked-it-to-be water slide I went. He wasn’t about to dive in behind me but that didn’t matter. Down he went like it or not. I spun around 3 or 4 times on the way checking to see if he was still behind me aiding cuts and scrapes to my thighs and backside. We finally made it to the wide part of the river that flowed into the trout stream. I was exhausted. Looking around to get my bearings I spotted some flower children on the shore running in my direction. They had seen us. I called for help and one of them tried to reach for me but the current was swiftly carrying me along. I mustered up what strength I had left aiming toward the shore where another one was holding out a tree branch that I grabbed onto. I was pulled out and somehow Fred got out, I don’t remember exactly, but I think he had tried to swim it on the way down and made it to the shoreline where he was helped. If they hadn’t grabbed me I imagine I’d have come to a halt as river narrowed to trout stream most likely annoying fishermen from becoming entangled in their lines, adding to the pain I wasn’t feeling just yet, unless, they saw me coming and got them out of the way.


I suddenly became aware of pain.


Everyone stood around staring at my shredded bikini hip-hugger shorts as one of the girls was telling me about my saved million-dollar life and bruises they all could see on my buttocks that weren’t the only things on display. I put some ointment they’d brought on the worst of it and eventually hobbled away in what was now a frayed micro-mini skirt.


All I wanted to do was go home.


It was a buzz-kill to say the least but for the flower children left behind it was a time to set back, take a hit of sinsemilla (maybe 2 if anyone could remember) and speak telepathically about rocks, reservoirs, waterfalls and vaginas that reminded them of Mick Jagger.


Finding My Zing


OK inspiration, I dare you to find me.

Just 4:30 a.m. and I’m sitting on the patio in the dark yet hoping this change of scenery zings me into something spectacular to say. So far one car sped by. On a Saturday night into Sunday morning it can’t be a medical person heading out for their shift 2 hours early, or can it? Most likely it’s an all-night partier finding the way home – glad I wasn’t walking. This kind of person could wind up on the sidewalk car and all. Otherwise some cicadas are creaking, other bugs are squeaking, and I can hear the highway off in the distance that has traffic, a surprising amount, and am staring at a streetlight across the way above a “no parking” sign. I’d like to say, “shut up you fools” and render it all dead silence so no matter how hard I listen, the silence would be deafening. I’ve heard deafening silence before.


Way back, let’s say 40 years ago, I was somewhere Vermont at an abandoned summer camp a friend was caretaker of. My boyfriend was off doing something and I’d decided to take a walk. It was beautiful, so peaceful, and as I practiced walking silent through the leaves Indian-style it occurred to me I couldn’t hear a thing, not a sound, no car, no bustle, not a squirrel, nothing. I listened hard, “so this is the silence is deafening”. It almost clogs your ears but it doesn’t. There’s just nothing to listen to, but that’s good. It amazed me. When I walked back the friend could tell from my face I’d experienced something. I was filled with such peace. I forget what he said to me, I do remember his smile. After that we drove to a very sleepy town that had music playing in the street, McCartney’s “Listen To What The Man Said”, to get pizza. (I think its origin was the pizzeria.) I remember him dancing across the street showing us the way.


I heard thunder just now and checked back with my weather widget but there’s a big sun with no indication of rain. The guy behind us just came out carrying a cooler. “How are you!” Well, I guess I’m fine, “Just fine! And you!” He’s back to get something else scuffing along in his Nike flip-flops. He likes my daughter. Wonder if he’s given up yet. Well, there he goes out to his truck again.


I see the Sunday paper under an entrance light by a tree. Must’ve been delivered by one of those cars driving by that didn’t bother slowing down. That’s having your technique down to a science. Hang on… there. It’s that Kansas City Star I’d told you about some posts back that showed up in the yard a couple of months ago that belongs to no one. We’ve adopted it for the sake of the coupons otherwise Monday through Saturday is recycled. Any local sales are too far away to drive to, but we do try to keep the place looking nice.


It just occurred to me that no one in “High Society” with Bing Crosby, Grace Kelly, Frank Sinatra, and Celeste Holmes smokes a cigarette. Not once does anyone light up and that includes Louis Armstrong or his band – they’re too busy playing music. Huh. Bing must’ve gotten wind it was bad for you.


There goes that thunder again. My toes are feeling chilly anyway. Going inside.



Spell check

Word count

Resist reading again

Save it

I want to go to sleep

Wash my face

Brush my teeth

Bends and stretches

It’s a wrap

Muse thanks for stopping

I love it when you call

But if I don’t close my eyes

I’ll never make it in to work

I’ll get no sleep at all