Summer heat fades away.
The crisp nip of an Autumn breeze
brings in skeletal trees without leaves.
Soon comes the icy winter night;
the gnawing frostbite.
Spring provides a moment of warm peace
until grey skies bring storms of grief.
Summer is the true season of release.
I pray for a sunny day.
I long to bask in humid July air,
listening to Cicadas sing,
staying up long past dark,
and shooting fireworks in the park.
We dress in our nation’s color schemes
fishing in lakes and swimming through streams.
Vacation is all that we need.
In July I will never run out of things to do.
Backflip on some rickety trampolines
or bike ride to Timbuktu.
Try thousands of cuisines.
Find new animals at the zoo.
Relax and fly the banners of red white and blue,
because July waits for you too.
jumping fun for kids
adults can join in also
we don't bounce like kids
In the hot A-Ga-Ming night
My wife and I skip the July 4th fireworks
At the sandbar down south on long Torch Lake
Start our own shoreline fire
Count the red electrified dorsal fins
Of the motorboat salmon swimming upstream
Migrating home from the explosions in the sky
20, 50, 80 a hundred 200 in an hour
Rainbow tsunami
Our dock leans rickety to the covenant
Lake soothes its wrinkles when the madness is over
Our souls sit back in decrescendo
Take a deep breath
To the cows mooing
Pastures away on Cairn Highway
Like foghorns from the lighthouse perched on the moon
While picking machines convulse in the cherry orchards
Tree by tree to trampolines
Whining mosquitoes if our ears were the hills
Moon slips behind the blueberry clouds
Campfire snaps its fingers for attention
A cricket chirps just outside our circle of radiant rocks
I planted decades ago
Every year he’s here too
Chirping
Chirping
To the embers of the universe
Until he isn’t.
Give her teeth. Women like teeth
Women like attention. Give her babies
Marry her but only once
Drive her to the cliff but never over it
Hold her hand because holding her feet looks ridiculous
Wave bright and shiny things in front of her
Never rattle her. Never call her “Hey you!”
Write her name down to remember it
Use string. Don't call her String.
Give her cats, puppy dogs and a loaf of bread
And don’t forget the eggs and milk
Dress her like a clown because clowns are fun
If you must, put her in a box…. because you must!
Make sure it has holes for breathing
Take her sky diving. Sometimes parachutes are required.
Give her duct tape. Duct tape can fix anything, even marriages
Take her to bed because trampolines are complicated
Tell her a joke
The one about, what did the grape say when the elephant stepped on it?
It didn’t say anything but let out a little wine
Lead her not into temptation but to the mall
Money will do the rest and do it all
We have won the lottery, but we do not want to spoil you
Mamma Sandwich said to her daughter, eight-year-old Lou.
Your papa says we will buy you one thing that you want badly.
If it is within reason, and our budget, we will do it gladly.
A bus full of books is what I want answered little Lou.
Nonfiction, fiction, joke books, and Spanish books too.
Books! Not video games or a couple of trampolines?
No, Lou replied. I want none of those banal boring things.
Her father the professor bought out a library’s shelves at eight.
They brought them home in a school bus. Lou yelled out “great!”
Mom said, “I hope she wants to read half this much when she is nine.”
“She will,” her father the professor replied, for this daughter is all mine.”
The base word “dally,” from old French used to mean to chat idly.
dilly-dally of dandelions - seeds on fire, blown
downward. inspire
molten icing— erupting,
disrupting the perfect garden of peace.
dilly-dally, those tongues wagging like puppy tails.
such excitement, seems friendly, enticing—
it’s dicey; the splintering
of rivulets, they run
dripping from waterfall lips, diving off the precarious cliff -
trampolines everywhere, but they’re missed. the kiss
of candy-sweet news, the licorice-twist…
she can’t place a hand over her own gaping hole.
the dog bites the hand that tries to scold.
the slap-happy hoarding of gossip - the girl
can’t get enough. when it’s not on the wire,
she turns to the swoon of reality t.v.
salivating, with ears like a drainage ditch,
or a sinkhole, a muddy swamp. she loves
it.
they
don’t.
run.
she’s
trouble.
11/19/2022
Arriving for my first visit, not knowing what to expect
Instantly awestruck at the plethora of trampolines
Ready to jump feet first into a new adventure.
Bouncing up, down, in, out, to and fro
Over and over again. I spot the soft foam pit,
Racing towards it, I take a leap of faith
Naturally full of enthusiasm and a youthful
Energy that knows no bounds at the moment.
Eagerly looking around the massive building wanting
X-tras like dodgeball, slam dunk, and the high-flying
Trapeze—where I swing through the air and land safely
Right in the middle of the blue and red squares of foam. I
Enter the battle beams where I was defeated by an older
Male. Nearly two hours later, and all good things must come to an
End. My first experience at a trampoline park was a success.
August 1, 2019
(An Acrostic Poem)
**Side note: I wrote this poem from the point of view of my 12 year old son. This was his first experience at a trampoline park called Airborne Extreme. He had a great time and has enjoyed the amusement center a few times since.
walks with trampolines on his feet
Cracks jokes with the mortician
Reminds you of drunk uncle Todd at any wedding ever
Chops oak trees with a single swift swing
Smartest in the room full of doctors
Success comes effortless
behind this exhausting sophisticated façade
he possesses the confidence of a failure
Misery equal to a mother
whose youngest son died in a motorcycle accident
unable to cry real tears
thirsty for affection
or to feel weightless
from the anvils on his shoulders
A never ending replay
It was the black ice's fault
not his
Blaming himself for what happened
to a dear friend
now taking an eternal dirt nap
No escapees from this tornado
July and August so busy
Disheveled yards and faces
Trampolines blown over
Wind chimes blown to bits
Tearing things up
Ominous
Kansas
Wind
Polite trampoline jumping
Keeping my shirt down.
Not wearing a dress unless I have shorts
to cover my panties
Unbelievable trampoline jumping
Terrific when I was a child
Until I lied and said I could do a flip
And I burst my nose open on the trampoline springs
Refused to do trampoline jumping
When I was in my twenties
Thinking I was too grown up for it
Jumped twice when I was in my forties.
Bad mistake. Dislocated a knee.
And pulled a calf muscle.
Trampoline jump once at fifty-five
My grandchildren were thrilled
Piled on me in the middle after six jumps
Dainty trampoline jumping
Looking forward to it when I get
to my eighties, after I lose my mind.
Lately, in my dreams
I'm doing backflips
On trampolines
Vaulting higher than high
Bouncing off
The springy sky
Free from gravity
Of worry
As the ground
Falls off my feet
I careen
To the beat
Of tambourines
Tail lashing
Lavender flashing
Pom-pom sized
Orange eyes
I'm as free
As I want to be
Lately, in my dreams.
5/08/19
Entered in 'Dial It Back' contest
Judged 6/5/19
Making love is like a trip to the bakery
Sweet like pastry without the calories
Use spoons over forks and knives
It is like a ship with sails unfurled
Stretched out in the arms of love at sea
It is like nothing else on Earth not even butter
If you have never done it don't worry about others
You can always start with yourself and work up
But never use hammers or cameras in bed
It is easier than riding a bike or horse
A second course is right around the corner
But wear a helmet at night for protection
If you are horny wear a horn
It is best when performed on trampolines
Avoid mixed company and drinks
Contortionists know how to please
Remember, sex is more fun when not twisted
Love making is a truly probiotic experience
According to nutritionists it is delicious
Good for your health and digestive system
When making love use the right tools
It is the formula for success
Safe sex is the rule
I decided to have an Andy Griffith moment with Tyler and Violet last night and brought them outside to check out the once every century meteor shower. After nearly tripping down the stairs because I was blinded by Violets 220 volt 10,000 lumen light up ‘sparkly’ shoes I stepped in dog poo...barefooted while making our way to lay on the trampoline. Five minutes into our ‘bonding’ time I was abandoned outside by myself when Violet SWORE she saw a UFO. After both kids ran in screamin to mama about alien abduction I was finally enjoying the peace and quiet of the night when all of a sudden I heard a POP!....then another. All of a sudden it sounded like a gatlin gun going off and every spring broke loose from the trampolines fabric and I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. My Tyson’s refugee/rescue chicken (Chickie-Wah-Wah #2) comes running out like a confused velociraptor and proceeds to peck my head. I think I may have fractured my ass bone and still have dog poo under my big toenail....didn't see a single meteor.
#TrampolineAndTailboneTroubles
#wantedToBuyTrampolineMat
#WeHadChickenForDinner
Please excuse typos, grammar, format errors, choice of words, syntax, tic tacs, tie tacks, big macs, cracker jacks, boring facts, silly tricks, pick-up stix, plots, thoughts, good guys, bad guys, bad girls, good girls, whirly girls, gyros, heroes, heroines, gyrenes, jelly beans, trampolines, transformers, bun warmers, sailors, tailors, tattoos, old news, old shoes, pikachus, random clues, bubble gum, bubba gumps, shrimps, chimps, vamps, tramps, stamps, tramp stamps, dogs, cats, carrots, ferrets, parrots etcetera etcetera etcetera. I am making this stuff up as I go.
BLUE MOON TREES
whistles and wings
love to cling
to branch trampolines.
like humans, they hanker
for adventurous voyaging.
here’s where the story takes flight.
you see, they wade and wander,
into the genius greenery of central park,
that is on the Oasis ship - docked.
trees are silent at sea,
as little shuttles lift off,
as the vainglorious ship
departs port, and dark deepens.
lavishing love and holding hands,
wet whistles of whiskey and wine.
clapping and high-fiving wings,
in disbelief, of their uproarious adventure,
climb ever higher, as high as possible.
alight on the prime pinnacle
of their favorite trees, to fantasize.
one lone bird, closes his eagle eyes.
as the stars, billow away below,
he stretches his wings and soars,
at tremendous speed, a first bird
landing on the blue moon trees.
he preens himself proud. Evermore -
angels with wings, whistle and wish.
5/10/2017
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