When I see you,
I forget those bad moments;
When I love you,
Light comes from darkness.
Oh, God! Is that heaven
Where I wish to die?
Is that heaven where I want to lie?
Little high, little shy
Oh, Love! Say 'Good bye'!
When you come to me,
Heartbeats like to play within;
When you look at me,
My world looks for nothing.
Oh, Eyes! Are that you
Made me to cry?
Are your eyes where I want to lie?
Little high, little shy
Oh, Love! Say 'Good bye'!
When you promise me:
'I shall wait for you ever!'
When you trust upon me,
I can bide your each tremor.
Oh, Trust! Is that you
Led her to defy?
Is that hype where I wished to die?
Little high, little shy
Oh, Love! Say 'Good bye'!
Old Boy
In the valley
Of my soul
Lives a boy
Who never grows old
The kid’s a keeper
Of my regrets
He holds the key
To all my secrets
He opens the book
Of shame and self doubt
Turning pages
To purge it all out
Chapters need reading
And read with a shout
Ones like
The Boy And The Older Adults
Deep inside
The young man resides
Living with scars
His needs unrealized
Gifts from within
Came with no guide
Art, words and music
So little applied
Outside now
He runs a lame man
Running as fast
As doubting feet can
Keeping his friends
At bay with his plans
Rarely giving them
All that he can
Same with music
And all his art
Never near finished
But boy what a start
Always the actor
Doing his part
Playing for laughter
With a sad heart
Bill MacEachern September 2016
I see the fingernails of a nine-year-old boy
at the end of my hands
They make me laugh.
How did he get them away from me?
And how did he reattach them?
She loved her forty-two year old boy, so completely,
He was her obedient little guy,
His actions never made her sigh or cry.
She was glad to fold his laundry ever so neatly.
The arrangement was not one hundred percent sweetly,
As his dad was not totally on board.
Tried to move junior out, on his own accord.
To a studio apartment over in Wheatley.
Mama thought she could keep her baby rather neatly,
But he ran off with a bossy looking dame.
Who was soon wearing the family’s good name.
Now they’re living with Mom, in her basement, discreetly.
My toes are filthy, soiled from yesterday.
I needed a bath all day
But I played instead.
And then the lights went out.
No lights.
No bath.
My eyes keep looking at my dirty toes.
They are caked and soiled.
Possibly have bugs in them.
I went to bed like this?
Am I crazy? Big smile now.
I know a bath would feel good,
But it takes time, right?
How much time do I have left?
Do I want to spend it bathing?
The 9-year-old boy in me laughs.
I am totally invisible to you.
You have no idea who I am.
Because I'm wearing an old woman body,
but it's a joke because
I'm a 9-year-old-boy.
My husband knows me better than anyone.
Did you use your inhaler?
Uh-huh.
You did not!
Yes, I did! Tongue's out now.
I KNOW YOU're Lying!
Did you use your breathing machine?
Forgot I had one.
Did you remember to take your pill?
I lie. "yes."
"You're lying!"
I may be a 9-year-old-boy, but I'm in cognito.
We're the only two who know.
Except the grandchildren, and
hundreds of children I've taught in class.
And anyone who ever returned my first "hi".
Because once I know you, I love you and I
start giving you my 9-year-old-boy puppy love.
But we are the only ones who know.
Men who like men join a gentleman's club
Hen-pecked husbands play rub-a-dub-dub
Men who like food go straight to the grub
So all the rest of us head for the pub
All Blacks enjoy squeezing pigskin
Yanks love their beer, the British their gin
The ladies prefer champagne Micky Finn
Sipped under a table at Peckers Inn
The morning after should never exist
But good times are rare and not to be missed
I seem to recall a kiss and a tryst
But all said and done, DAMN! Was I pissed!
FRENCH GIRLS
in the eyes of an
innocent
15 yr American old boy
My son
Sweet naive
Raised in China
Where MTV and YOUTUBE are banned
Where no girl kisses
Until her university days end.
Raised in China
Where knees are covered--
Lips are sealed--
Where boys
Only dream
Of the wonders of Red sex.
My son
Said he loved Paris
For the Eiffel
For the Louvre
For the Seine
For the wine.
But I knew
He loved Paris
For the
Blackest panties
Barely hiding
Knowing smiles
Of
Short tight skirts.
My Old Boy
I’ve written about a little dog that I had
But little Maggie was really bad
I had to return her, she was to much for me
All over the house she would poop and pee
So again it was just my old Bandit and me
His health getting worse even just to see
After I lost my wife
He helped me go on with my life
Then I had to face that tearful day
To put him down was so hard to say
I still look for him in his usual place
The rooms are empty I don’t see his face
More pain and more tears
It hasn’t stopped these past years
He gave me loyalty and love
Now he’s also in heaven above
Azure winds picks desert puffs off the canyon crests.
Corliss trots the edge of the plateau, shimmering red rock.
Over yonder the village hangs a sign, "No Good Corliss: Shoot On Sight."
When the years stretch on like an aching Texas sun,
Bad man Corliss will lay down his arms, his anger, even his grit.
Only the boy who rode the small calf will be left to pump the blood from his old heart.
Yard sales a hundred years later will sell 19th century memorabilia:
"I got this from my great-grandpa, said he got it from an old outlaw."
"Shoot, you don't say? Looks like the mark of a real cowboy."
Mom, today we studied simile
What is simile?
A sentence that uses like or as to compare two things
Like a green car riding on the road is like a running vine?
Or A red car riding on the road is like a running red rose?
Yeah mom just like that!! woohoo!
Love them forever (no matter what)
Take time off when they are teenagers not infants (you'll need it)
Guide them to find the right path (other than a girl’s house)
Use laughter whenever possible (it’s better than crying)
Use the strength god gave you (not to kill them)
Teach them right from wrong (and they will teach you words you wish you did not know)
When they call you for money let them earn it (Then hide your wallet until they are 18)
You will meet all their friends "IDUNO", "WASNTME", and "JUSTCAUSE" (Good Kids but they
hang around to much)
Love them forever (no matter what)
He left home when he was barely thirteen,
Said he got tired of getting beat, by an old man that was down right mean.
Said it might have been different, had he done something wrong,
He said shoot I ain’t perfect, but I know when I don’t belong.
He said momma left when I was just nine,
She said she couldn’t live with a man who wouldn’t choose her over moonshine.
And after that it was hell to pay,
Cause he’d get drunk dang near every day.
So I kind of figured I’d get out while I could,
Cause the life at home sure weren’t no good.
It’s been pretty rough out here, but I’m finally learning my way,
Picking up cans and bottles pretty much makes up my day.
Well I’ve been on my own for a little over three years now,
Don’t know what happened to my old man, don’t really care anyhow.
Went by the house once and it was all boarded up and had police tape draped cross the door,
You can bet I wasn’t going back in there that’s for sure.
Shoot I appreciate the money, what’d ya call this an interview,
Shoot mister there’s a lot of kids out here like me, and this was the only thing they
could do too.
Sparkling dust to salt the air
as leaves of mint are creeping bare
along the cobbles, creek and mire
where burns the latent, smoking fire
Shadows dance and sneak a bite
off sunbeams blinding, stiff and white
along the meadows, fields and glen
where boys pretend they've become men
Silver stars float past the moon
while children's songs expire soon
along the days, the weeks, the years
where dreams of flying slip to fears
Sparkling dust to sweet the air
as wisps of wild, thinning hair
along the scalps of aging minds
where the clock reversed, forever winds
Shadows dance and eyes grow dim
and laughter sneaks out on a whim
along the lips once bitter, tight
where scowls settled for the night
Silver stars float past the heart
of crinkled years, dissolved apart
Along comes wind to stoke the fire
and what was latent, becomes desire...
There was derelict old Steam engine,
I played on when I was ten,
I'd hear that lonesome whistle blow,
and the old west would live again,
I rode with Billy Miner's gang,
To rob The CPR,
Climbed onboard that rusty engine,
hollering "Shorty, check the baggage car!"
I wonder if the ghost of ol' Bill Miner,
ever watched us at our play,
Small boys re-enacting ,
a near forgotten day.
Forty years and more have passed...
I still hear that lonesome whistle blow
My pony snorts impatiently ,
She knows it's time to go.
"Pull up your masks and draw your pistols!"
We come around the engine at a run,
Three riders on fast horses,
flashing hooves and blazing gun.
That very same old engine,
I played on as a child,
Now hauls tourists back in time,
to when the West was wild.
Old railroad men and cowboys ,
re-enact a bygone day,
While the grinning ghost of Billy Miner,
watches us at play.
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