It is quite common to kiss injuries on those wee.
At three, my son asked to have bath autonomy.
I tossed a washcloth, then stood where he could not see.
Soon, he called out words that amusingly shook me,
"Mom, it washed sore, come kiss ouchy on my pee-pee."
Shopping, strolling him down the grocery store aisle
where female hygiene products are sorted in piles,
my son, age four, earnestly said, "When I'm grown, I'll
buy all these things with flowers on them for my wife."
His words styled a smile in me that would last for life.
I used mild-applied wooden spoons for mood anchors.
This set me up for disgust from food cart flankers
when my son yelled, "Look Mom, a hole bag of spankers."
My child, four, eyed that, not the shelved Power Rangers?
I hoped no one would report child welfare dangers.
Once, when a minister summed up his sermon's span
asking "Who's the greatest force in the universe?",
my son, at five, stood up with some dramatic plan.
Lifting his toy hero as high as small ones can,
he enthusiastically declared, "Batman!"
Thoughts of vacation, developed my fav word pearl,
"How many times do I wake up before Disney World?"
We used to like Yoda
we used to like Gandalf
we used to like The Power Rangers
but now we just like Golf
remember days with Pog cards
they were flipping bad
mornings with your rock hard
and now we're going mad
Back when we were young
all was an unknown
soon we will be done
where did the time go
Puberty's a crisis
midlife is a crisis
wondering if Christ is
and if so why is ISIS
After good comes
a mental stain
flaccid wood flung
florescent stain
We used to dream and wonder
now we sleep and slumber
the old just seem to wonder,
life to six foot under
we used to like Gandalf
now we like Golf
we used to like Yoda
soon it's all over
On Christmas Eve I was trapped in snow,
my house resembled the ingloo of an Eskimo:
presents in silver boxes just laid there,
twelve Power Rangers,
eleven hair-curlers,
ten brown teddy bears,
nine Purina cans,
eight diet biscuit bags,
seven pairs of gloves,
six votive candles for my favorite Saint Anthonyyyy,
five boxes of crayons,
four make-up kits,
three large chocolate bars,
two pairs of wool gloves,
and one beard trimmer for a Santa that wasn't meeee!
Entered in Poet Destroyer's contest,
" Twelve Days of Christmas "
Written by Andrew Crisci
Costumed creatures of the night,
Cinderellas and Snow Whites,
Power Rangers and Superman,
Pumpkins, pirates, Peter Pan.
Off they go in pure delight,
With watchful parents still in sight.
"Trick or treat!" the children sing,
In anticipation of sweet offerings.
Candy, gum and other treasures,
Guaranteed to bring them pleasure,
Fill their bags up as they go.
Door by door their booty grows.
Halloween brings back fond memories,
Of childhood fun with friends and family.
Dressing up and making believe,
Are what I like best about All Hallow's Eve.
Kim Merryman 9/25/11
for Russell Sivey's Halloween contest
Funny Henry was
a magician children trusted;
he carried a large bag,
and the sly tricks he would do
to entertain them, seemed real.
He asked every boy,
" What would you like to see, boys?"
They shouted, " Power Rangers! "
" And you young girls...what's your wish? "
They hollered, " Wonder Woman!"
Entered in Linda-Marie's contest,
" Bag Of Tricks "
Written by Andrew Crisci
The anger overcomes me, I am all alone.
I cannot keep it inside any longer.
This feeling makes me weak and shakes my bones.
I need some time to sit, think, and ponder.
Why do things always pan out the way they do?
This is too much to handle, and I can't,
Not anymore, I will not, I am over you.
The world will never understand my rants.
The hurt I feel is not worth explaining.
You have done far too much to keep me close.
I have told you before how much I'm aching
Whatever happened to power rangers and super heroes?
Life without stress never any worrying
The sun was shining everything was glowing.
Bloods, Crips, Kings
Brothers by oppression
yet the sight of colors
can bring on war
While blasting angry
voices through stereos
KILL
KILL
KILL
Beautiful women
Innocent children
lose Father, Sons, Brothers
Future teachers and coaches
of our community under
mind control
These young kamikazes
used to be power rangers
lovers
Now they hold techs
without fear
Batman was their hero
Now the almighty dolla
has them blind
Bloods, Crips, Kings
Brothers by oppression
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