I found him lying on his bed,
hair tousled and with a sweet smile.
I realized that he was dead.
I knew this was no show of guile.
A lifeless shell fueled with faith
betrayed a muted mask of wraith.
Though none, I called Emergency.
They asked me blankly, “Are you sure?”
No breath, stiff limbs, lividity –
a terminal illness, no cure.
“I’m sure (as Hell!), yes positive!”,
assuming that, the causative.
All three came as well as ER,
coroner, sheriff, mortician.
One to play the body’s chauffer.
One to judge the man’s condition.
One to say there was no more breath.
One to announce the “formal” death.
A cold harshness to the moment,
finality so sure and straight.
No use to sit down and lament.
Too late to try to clear the slate.
It is what it is, as they say.
Nothing further to do but pray.
An homage of his joy and bliss;
his ardour for life and nature.
His pure love for God not remiss;
his place within Heaven secure.
A faith-based life and in the end
all he wanted was one true friend.
It is 1954, and the sun is shining brightly with feeling.
I am lying in my room, staring at the bland white ceiling.
Go out and do something! My mother urges me again.
There is nothing to do, without my friend, my twin.
A car comes screeching around the corner and Ms. Cat is here.
I run out there, as swiftly and happily as any being-chased deer.
She is the epitome of a good time, this hilarious feline pure.
She says “Hop in!” and I leap into her T-bird and yell “sure!”
When did you have it painted? I asked her. Yesterday it was red.
My daddy’s butlers turned it pink this morning, that cagy cat said.
She wanted it to match her scarf, and it was the perfect color pink.
The amount of money her daddy made the rest of us really think.
She let me drive her around, and I wore a smart black chauffer hat.
My friends laughed at this, but I did not care because of our great chat.
She told me how to make money, and I took her advice this day.
I now have two Thunderbirds, and others work while I play away
A journey
What a troubled ride
we will take.
When the chauffer is pride
… make no mistake.
B. J. “A” 2
October 28th, 2016
Inform the taxi driver
His tips an extra fiver
If he will chauffer you around
After dark
The seedy side of town
Where the windows glow red
Cost’s 10 dollars for head
And as the alleys crawl alive
And the junkies score
The police car’s drive
Past sin city
As under dark
It's not very pretty
More than just a mom, a friend, a superhero in disguise
Always there, always by your side
Never doubtful, tells us to shoot for our dreams
Strict when needed, but never mean
Someone to tell secrets, a shoulder to cry on
A person you can always rely on
A buddy, a chef, a wizard, a chauffer, so many words to describe her
A mentor, for sure
Need help? Go ask a mom
Preferably mine
She's the bomb!
A Mother, a nurturer, teacher, and wife
Peace keeper, housekeeper, chauffer and friend
She disciplined, listened, gave advice, praises, too
Encouraging her little ones to stand on their own
A multitasker, unselfishly, gave of her time
Seemingly, never wearied raising seven kids plus
A gentle spirit and a drill sargent as circumstance called
Her humor and wit made hardwork feel like the breeze
When death made its demands three times in her life
Taking first her son, then husband and daughter in tow
Through each incredible loss, her unshakened faith remained
Mama, Perfect woman of God, an example of endless love
~*~
Dad not all should be called by this name, for it is an honor and a duty. Some call us
father, some say daddy and some just call us pop...no matter how you say it? If you fail
to do any of these assignments, you failed not just your child, but everyone.
I'm a chef, a maid, a parent, a teacher, a lawyer, carpenter, Plummer, painter, doctor,
trash man, chauffer, guard, friend, enemy, Sheppard, defender and daddy. I get days off
sometime… but my real pay comes when I teach my children correctly, I work some nights
and sometimes even on my day off when needed or when called, I only get off
when sick but always still on guard...This is not a job but an assignment from God... and God
knows... that we all will suffer if I should fail any part of my assignment, but when I get it
right? Angels rejoice and God smiles!
Our white car’s a blur
Likes to hear her engine purr
My wife the chauffer
By Robb A. Kopp
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