she is overprotective, pushing helicopter parenting craziness to the edge
she chaperones her daughters on dates, sitting in the middle of boy’s car
father is at the end of his patience, perched on a precarious parenting ledge
threatening to leave if her helicopter parenting goes much more far
The rig rolled through Laredo
On the road to San Antone,
Its eighteen wheels of commerce
Headed north from parts unknown.
The shipping costs all paid to
Their coyote chaperones.
The plan was clear in concept,
But the method imprecise.
If not the dehydration,
Suffocation would suffice;
The Black Hole of Calcutta
Brought to Texas for a price.
This third verse offers balance,
But provides no peace of mind,
To see these modern slavers
Treating people worse than swine.
And how cheaply they regard them
Once they've crossed the borderline.
Poetry in motion
Take me out … the ballgame
bats and balls a'soaring
Root, toot, toot … the home team
'round the bases scoring.
Poetry in motion
Daddy and daughter dance
…hard to give her away
Wedding music magic
Dad won’t stand in your way.
Poetry in motion
Maypole dance, oom pah pah
lads and lasses skip by
braiding designs so grand
as colored ribbons fly
Poetry in motion
At junior/senior proms.
guys and gals move in pairs
chaperones, keep on track -
moving round midst their cares.
April 5, 2022
A two-tone case of blue and white
to house euphonious delight
It graces still the table top
on which it played its first “Doo-wop”
I’m thinking of my younger days
and of a million record plays
Nostalgia grooves with every spin
to satisfy the mood I’m in
The Beatles, Kinks and Rolling Stones
“No satisfaction”, Jagger moans
And Disco lives yet with the sound
of Vicki’s ‘Turn the beat around”
For holidays and Christmas cheer
“It came upon the midnight clear”
Still resonates in lovely tones
and “Silent night” still chaperones
Although it’s aged along with me
there is no better company
For rainy days to disappear
my phonograph of old is here
Christmas meant a party
At the company club.
It was fun guessing whose dad
Would dress up as Santa Claus.
As we gathered, the carols played
And one by one, chaperones led
Unwilling boys to blushful girls
We had to dance, flushing with discomfort.
But oh! the food, was so good.
It was always pizzas, burgers and cole slaw
And Coke and ice creams too. In the
India of the eighties that was
Colonial Christmas fare.
Under the tree awaited our gifts.
I was thrilled with my double digest
murder mysteries. My best friend got
A set of badminton racquets.
Our memories replete with past
Christmas treats, the glow on our faces
The Holly and Mistletoe wreaths
Christmas was a day to treasure indeed
Even today recollections are a pleasure
That warm my heart with bliss.
Christmas meant a party
At the company club.
It was fun guessing whose dad
Would dress up as Santa Claus.
As we gathered, the carols played
And one by one, chaperones led
Unwilling boys to blushful girls
We had to dance, flushing with discomfort.
But oh! the food, was so good.
It was always pizzas, burgers and cole slaw
And Coke and ice creams too. In the
India of the eighties that was
Colonial Christmas fare.
Under the tree awaited our gifts.
I was thrilled with my double digest
murder mysteries. My best friend got
A set of badminton racquets.
Our memories replete with past
Christmas treats, the glow on our faces
The Holly and Mistletoe wreaths
Christmas was a day to treasure indeed
Even today recollections are a pleasure
That warm my heart with bliss.
It was a Friday,
and I was excited
about the High School Dance that night.
I wore a yellow chiffon dress up to my knees
with black Patton leather pumps.
Students stood, jumping, and dancing wall-to-wall.
Partners were no longer needed to join in the on the fun.
Teenage hearts entwined, ambushed with love,
some in the groove having a ball, found none left behind.
Chaperones watched, so we wouldn’t get out of hand.
Amazed feel atop, swirl around,
yearn the music not to stop.
A rotating disco mirror ball hung; reflecting light, a trance
on the gym floor added excitement to the dance.
The music played over the constant background chatter.
Jazz, blues and rock; there was nothing better.
All in excited wonder in the night’s thunder
just wanted a little bit more
to listen to the music score.
Swirled round and held hands
peek over towards the band stand.
Then, sent home to our parents.
Recapturing the past with friends, a long time ago.
3/7/2020 “Kim Rodrigues’ DWM Contest”
The Senior Prom was the social event of the school year!
I approached the occasion with great humility and fear.
Never knowing if I could get a date caused me apprehension,
But finding someone to go greatly eased my tension!
So many things for this momentous gala to prepare.
Rent a tuxedo and to the barber to clip my hair.
'Round the room with sister to practice the dance,
And brush up on the social skills my suavity to enhance!
As the great day neared I washed and waxed the car.
Everything must be perfect, nothing the affair to mar.
I shined my shoes and chose a corsage for a dollar;
Never mind that I didn't coordinate with her the color!
I donned my ill-fitting tux and reeked of Old Spice.
Her Mom greeted me saying, "My, you look nice!"
Swishing into the room perfectly coifed, in elegant gown,
Tottering on high heels, she tripped and nearly fell down!
At the banquet in the gym I tried to do my very best,
But despite it all, managed to slop sauce upon my vest!
Although there were chaperones and frustrations galore,
'Twas worth it all as she kissed me goodnight at her front door!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)