Old Times New

There are times when life is easy
Usually that happens
When the company is right,
The drinks are proper, and
Stories flow with trust and casualness.

Today was one of those days
When coffee, milk, and Diet Coke
Washed away the decades
Letting time catch up
With two old neighbors.

My old neighbor, who raised me like a brother,
Caught me up on her life,
The best apocalypse cellers, and
The real reasons secrets
Are so closely guarded at Camp Peary,
Which is different in other parts of town
Where pineapples are more openly exposed.

There were lots of laughs,
A few tears, and some fairly poor service.
At least it was a beautiful day for a football game…

And hangin’ with my unofficial sister.

The ‘Burg

Stories told of elastic snapping,
True life, though, nearly lost an eye
Without any help from White Snake
Or the dude’s wife in Rectify.

Demons exorcised from donkey butt days
Where one man’s old reality
Became another man’s prophecy
Without any need of cuddling.

It’s funny what happens
When the fog passes over Wiiliamsburg,
Something changes the past for this present
It’s less kaliedescope and more elixir now


There are times when I am at a loss
For my mind can get a grasp
On something that happened
Or an idea that might be bigger
Than I’m used to accepting.

I’m never quite sure
The best way to accept these moments.
Sometimes they are threats,
Other times I deflect with humility.
It just depends on the moment.

The reaction, though, is emotional
Whether I’m defending my ego against
Some perceived foe or hiding my pleasure
Behind a disbelieving confidence,
Both I wish were better than they often are.

Less defensive.
More appreciative.
Easier on the soul, they are, when
Both toe the line and
Let me be that simple guy I want to be.

Meatloaf Pharaohs Looking Audacious: Parents

“The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.” Cream, Anyone for Tennis

we just want what”s best for us,
the best classes, the best facilities,
the best tax rate, the surest grades
we want coaches sure to get us scholarships
we want the wink and the nod
when things aren’t just as we think
we will raise money
we will chaperone dances
we will even put up with hours of homework,
but WE expect a something in RETURN.

Meatloaf Pharaohs Looking Audacious: Administrators

“The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.” Cream, Anyone for Tennis

Mandates make the job nearly impossible.
Contracts don’t help much either.
I’m in this job because I want to help children.
If I change one teacher,
Think of the number of students
I’ve made a difference for.
They say I’m an educational leader, but
I never taught under these conditions.
I never knew what it was like to answer
To the whims of politicians, parents, and even teachers.
Now they all call and I have to listen
Because I’m nothing more than a middleman in this job,
More manager that expert teacher.
Now I feel like I’m too far from the students
To make the kind of difference I once did.

Meatloaf Pharaohs Looking Audacious: Students

“The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.” Cream, Anyone for Tennis

I wake up.
I sit in class.
I take notes.
I finish assignments.
I go home,
Do hours of homework, and
Go to sleep.

Then I wake up a do it again.


How does this stuff matter?

Obviously, it doesn’t
Because we learn the same stuff
Year after year.
After year.
After year.
Maybe that’s why I don’t care.
Maybe that’s why I don’t try.

I get it.

My choice.

It’s just school.

Meatloaf Pharoahs Looking Audacious: Teachers

“The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.” Cream, Anyone for Tennis

We longed for the day
When graduation would be there,
High school would be over, and
College would set us on our adult ways.
We were told the past four years
Were the perfect preparation for the next four or five.
We never bought that message
Seeing the homework as unnecessary,
Wondering why we couldn’t leave for lunch, and
Moaning about all the dumb stuff we couldn’t understand.

Secretly we vowed to never be like that.

Then we got our jobs,
Falling into the trap of efficiency and control
Set by the changing tides of evaluation and continuous improvement.
We started giving homework,
The same kind of assignments that we dreaded.
We continued reading the books that we did,
As if they are the only ones that have anything important to say.
They were classics ordained by people from another time,
An era we railed against as students.
Then, we became the robots we vowed to never be.

Now we pass the blame onto the kids.

I wonder how I became the brick and mortar I so dislike.
Those with authority tell me to make a change.
In the same breath, they say they can’t make change at their level,
So what am I to do?
I’ve latched onto every initiative they have thrown out there,
Nearly a quarter century of graphic organizers, objectives, and technology.
It’s all just a filter, as the information to be delivered
Rarely ever changes,
At least in principle for the foreseeable future.

Spare Evidence Provided: Turning Down the Heat

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

Wants, needs, desires
What are these things really?
Evolutionary, marketing, blasphemous,
I don’t know.

I do know they exist
In the realms of life, denial, and exploitation
Which is a real shame
When oppression and suggestion collude to form confusion and anger.

Beauty exists,
The forms are many.
Subtle demonstration is probably best.
Subtle appreciation too.

Cold showers for all.

Sparse Evidence Provided: Flirting at Wawa

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

“Hey, baby, where you been?”
He answered back over the deli counter, “Here, there. You?”
“Just hidin’ back here, baby!”
He said, “There’s no good in that.”
“Well, I can’t give all of me to you, baby.”
He didn’t miss a beat, “Why of course you can.”
“Ah, baby, I’m a lot of trouble.”
He said, “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t know, baby, I can bring it.”
He smiled, “I bet you can.”
“Baby, I’ll see you next time.”
He walked out with a nod and a wink.

Sparse Evidence Provided: Wallbanger, Fly Guy, and an Old Pornographer

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

No restraints when it comes to zipper extravagance
Leads us to dudes who have a phallic existence
Without respect for the more subtle aspects of sexuality,
Mainly that of respect and the truest meaning of “NO.”

Take for instance the multitude of cuts
Wasted on the cinematic floor of the creeper
Who made movies with the express intent of profitability and
The secret hope of shagging young starlets.

His couch was there for the using, but
He should have his perverted member
Put in a cast for the way
He pushed and poked with the power of pseudo-authority he held over women.

The script is being re-written, Harvey.

How about comedy and sitcom royalty
Mixing concoctions to keep women from heckling
While a pudding pop ran rough shot
Through an unwilling participant in his idea of intimacy.

He took away any credibility he had as a family man.
He robbed any thought that he could have been a caring gym teacher.
He abused women and had his day in court.
He said nothing becoming the punchline he made of himself.

You should have plenty of sweaters, Bill.

Making deviant behavior cool
Seems to be the way rebels want to gain acceptance.
A long time before the internet
Blue magazines filled the bookstore shelves.

Who knew a pajama-clad old man
Could reign by his standard for which nudity would be displayed,
No matter the cost to the models shot to enhance his magazine’s stories
Or the perception of women bred by the images and cast in a man’s mind or hand.

May Harvey be the last bunny you photograph, Hugh.

Hey, guys, your wallet does not entitle you.
Your job status does not entitle you.
Your deviant little brain does not entitle you.
Just go away, please.