Just a little test

Of self awareness

Is your life an accident of birth?

Were you allowed to be born at all?

Now that you are here

How do you see yourself?

Do you believe being rich is a good thing?

Were you born rich?

Do you believe the color of your skin matters?

Are you the color you would prefer to be?

Do you believe society has preferred racial types?

Are you blessed health wise?

No infirmities to interfere in your life’s desires?

Have you been equipped

To correct any inequities

By family, self or society?

Finally at the end of the day

Are you at peace

With life being an accident of birth?

FXC 7//30/19

Copyright

It would seem

Eyes are able to speak

Thus expressions

Like

A glaring stare

The wayward glance

A reproachful look

The come hither look

Pleading or soulful eyes

Or simply the eyes being cast down

Indicating one should sit

And yet those uses are merely one dimensional

There are those moments

Or nuances

When an individual speaks volumes

With their eyes

Like the glance that is laser focused

When the coffee is not ready in the morning

Or when you are riding shotgun

And misread the directions

A short story is conveyed

In a matter of seconds

Full well we have already read that book

Thus we can’t possibly fail to know

Exactly what was intended

By the talking eyes

The intensity itself speaks volumes

Not really even seeking a response

We are left a clear picture of what was meant

FXC 7/27/19

Copyright

Got to admit

Three generations

Have snuck by

Since my teens

Great crisis then also

Times never change

Just whose telling the story

Vietnam and ‘The Man’

Were the main issues

Apparel and appearance

Were the personal manifestations

Of the changes occurring

Long hair, beards

Bra less

Communes

Protests, sit downs

Confrontations daily

Lest my memory fails me entirely

This generation has obtained a

PhD degree in tattoos

Had noticed a few

But a visit to the pool

Revealed a whole panorama

Of style, color, size and purpose

Political sayings, dedications

Warnings, flowers, birds

Some just minuscule

Hardly able to be seen

Others as if a coat over one’s whole back

Even others in places

An old man should not have noticed!

Ah a new generation of artists

Alleluia!

FXC July 7/21/19

Copyright

It’s not like I didn’t have children

I had plenty of children

It’s just that it was a wild and wonderful time

As if I was getting to relive my own childhood

My mind was disjointed

Going in 20 directions at once

Just a phenomenal life

Children, school, work and oh, yeah, married

But that was only for the first 30 years

It has been the second phase of my life

That has raised the bar about pure bliss

Grandchildren who at first I had no preconceived notions about

As if I had never held a child before

Now I was allowed to hold the most

Precious miracle of all time

Everything they did or said

Was to be quoted endlessly

Their gestures, their smiles

As if angels were looking in my direction

But I was not alone

I’ve caught other grandparents

Looking just as silly as I

Now I have the time to reflect

On how these little ones mesmerize us

Their eyes and their little hands

Are so busy doing their little things

That when they look at you or reach out for your hand

It is as if you have been invited to the most private and privileged group

But your presence can only be requested

By eye contact or the reaching out of the hand

Nonetheless even in this small little part of the world

There are FAVORITES

Never have gotten used to having

To wait in line behind NaNa

So be it

I’ll patiently wait my turn

FXC 7/13/19

Copyright

The daughter of a Navy man

Would be expected to make a bed

So straight as to bounce a coin

The children of that woman

Would of course have also learned that skill

Her husband however had escaped that lesson

His father was a lawyer in the Army

His lessons were about the law

Not blankets and sheets

Always understood why

A bed should be made a specific way

Begin the day with structure

But jumping out of bed first

Did not provide a consistent opportunity

To learn Navy bed making

But whoa, whoa

The day did arrive in which

Arising early was not required

Now a lesson I might have learned

50 years ago

Begins

The bed is stripped as the sheets need to be washed

Oh, this is going to be a long lesson

Redundant, redundant

Yes, yes I have had this lesson numerous times

And sloughed it off

But now I am the focus of this woman

The last one to learn

How to make a bed

Even the grandchildren have mastered this skill

So there I am cornered

Near the corner of the bed

My sweet ever hopeful wife

Looking in my eyes

Trying again to impart

Her Father’s legacy

So earnest in her belief

That her passion, her belief in me

Will provide the world

With another proficient

Bed maker

Yes, yes those eyes of faith

Have their effect

As I reach for the other corner

To start our day!

FXC 7/13/19

Copyright

To be sure

The story of the Garden of Eden

Illustrates that faithfulness to the Law

Will provide a simply beautiful place to live

However for those of us less fortunate mortals

“The Garden of Eden” remains a story

Unable to be fulfilled

Toil as we might

Weeds creep throughout our gardens

Strangling our hyacinths

Choking our Day lilies

Even causing blight on our roses

Furthermore there is no demarcation

For the laborers of the ‘Garden of Eden’

Or more to the point no separation of responsibilities

For those of us trying to emulate the laborers

The division of labor in a Garden

Is decided by the one most likely to have a vision

Of what a heavenly garden should look like

That individual must also have a lackey to implement said plan

And then the instructions begin:

Weed, cut grass, trim, sweep up, plant grass, lay mulch

It’s a bit much for someone who knew they were always

Going to be the odd man out

When it was discovered the apple was missing

FXC 7/10/19

Copyright

Thunder & Lightning

The beauty of aging

Resides in the fading memory

Of time passed

There are moments

Not to be remembered

Other moments

Become immortalized

Like playing in the rain

Dark, ominous skies

Strong winds swirling billowing clouds

At 8, 9 or 10 probably barefoot

Just the exquisite pleasure

Of youth uninhibited by fear

Oblivious to nature’s wrath

Dancing in puddles

Parents watching from windows

Yes, yes I remember

But now on a walk

Getting ‘steps’

Forecast of rain

Umbrella clutched tightly

The sky begins its slow dance of breathing

In then out slowly

Revealing its intent

When white tentacles

Spread across the darkened sky

Providing seconds of perfect light

But remember now

Remember to wait for the thunder

The time between lightning and thunder

Will reveal how soon the rain will fall

Gosh, gosh please remember

How long do I have

I can’t remember

I really do wish I could remember

Not that I could walk faster

It would just be nice to remember

As the first drops begin to fall

FXC 7/10/19

Copyright

Thunder & Lightning

The beauty of aging

Resides in the fading memory

Of time passed

There are moments

Not to be remembered

Other moments

Become immortalized

Like playing in the rain

Dark, ominous skies

Strong winds swirling billowing clouds

At 8, 9 or 10 probably barefoot

Just the exquisite pleasure

Of youth uninhibited by fear

Oblivious to nature’s wrath

Dancing in puddles

Parents watching from windows

Yes, yes I remember

But now on a walk

Getting ‘steps’

Forecast of rain

Umbrella clutched tightly

The sky begins its slow dance of breathing

In then out slowly

Revealing its intent

When white tentacles

Spread across the darkened sky

Providing seconds of perfect light

But remember now

Remember to wait for the thunder

The time between lightning and thunder

Will reveal how soon the rain will fall

Gosh, gosh please remember

How long do I have

I can’t remember

I really do wish I could remember

Not that I could walk faster

It would just be nice to remember

As the first drops begin to fall

FXC 7/10/19

Copyright

In the back of my mind

Which is not a desirable location to be

There are vague, hazy images

Of a young robust man

Lifting heavy objects at will

Seemingly impervious

To any consequences

Fast forward 30 years

The old images still not erased nor tested

The task which would highlight a faulty memory

Putting up two fence posts

My son went with me to Home Depot

Soon we had the posts loaded

On to the concrete ailse

Bent down to get a good grip, 60 pounds

Been awhile since I’ve lifted one of those

Bag wouldn’t budge

The old faulty image of previous lifting disapated

My 35 year old son leaned

Over gently and gracefully

Placed 4 bags of 60 pound concrete on to the cart

All my illusions of muscle mass escaped my old addled brain

Another excellent reason for a fourth child

FXC 7/1/19

Copyright