Grammar School Hero

I was a grammar school super hero

I set drowning bugs in gutters free.

Draped in a bath towel superman cape,

I hid out in the tallest tree.

Yet, I was the klutz in middle school,

The team member never selected…

I decided to run for class clown,

And unanimously, was elected.

High School lasted five long years;

I smoked and drank for fun.

While working for veterinarians,

Juggling what needed to be done.

Others thought me quite responsible,

The kid that would go real far…

It is true I got lots of mileage,

I did it all for a convertible car.

Speeding through the swirling fog

Down Davis Road to “Light My Fire”

I matured, breaking sound barriers;

My life couldn’t get much higher.

My young eyes only saw beauty,

Translating visions to symphonies.

Along the way, lost pets and loves,

Paved sad roads with epiphanies.

Freedom was riding a horse so fast,

Through wheat fields under thundering skies…

I learned the power of my own will,

And everything, eventually dies.

Jackie and Jack

 

In the Canyon and Garrapata,
I witnessed two idols fall,
Dissolved as if by acid,
Both by choice, with alcohol.

Jack, my surrogate father,

Was only a dream I had….
Aloof, drunk and deserting
No different from my dad.

So many conflicting memories

Under the Bixby Creek Bridge… 

I still envisioned a future,
Far beyond that Big Sur ridge.

Jack, you are still my hero,

Tarnished, but a part of me…
And then, there’s the father I hated;
Another genius, time set free.

Barriers

I unrolled barbed wire for acres

To keep the animals “Under my tree”.

I often wish now as an old man,

The fence was cut, and they ran free.

One side kept the livestock in,

The other kept predators at bay…

I see now the moral dilemma;

Risk harm or take freedom away.

If I were the horse with flared nostrils,

Inhaling the scent of a better stranger,

I would prefer the choice to run free,

Risking a future chance of danger.

Personal Pulsations

So many leave the country,

To find their place in the world…

Swept away in a heartless city,

One’s fate is where they’re hurled.

The cities have a rhythm

It ebbs and flows; a moon drawn tide

We are anonymous in the millions,

Yet still no room to hide.

The view outside my window.

Is a colorful electric dance…

Throngs of others like myself,

Followed the current for one chance.

Trailer Life

Trailers are more than a shelter,

They’re a gift from the asphalt god…

They offer the perks of a mansion,

While squatting on a rich man’s sod.

A safe house for an outlaw,

The perfect hide-a-way, ready to roll;

A cabin parked in a Walmart lot,

Cheap housing, for one on the dole.

Trailers are the safety nets,

Where falling addicts crash…

Some trailers are the dumpsters,

And the occupants, the trash.

Some trailers make it possible,

To live on a sandy beach…

There, my psyche got a fresh view,

As my youth slid out of reach.