The end of selfies

Where did the day go

When judging others by their looks was informative

Hair too long, shirt wrinkled, crooked teeth, no makeup

Of course the presumption was that

We had the right ‘look’, the right ‘age’

And naturally, ‘good looking’

But like a piece of granite in an artist’s hand

Bit by bit a new image was chiseled

One that exhibited realism

Like a modern day ‘selfie’

Skewered perceptions of beauty, age, and taste

Drifted to the floor

As the artist created

Their vision of what could be

Best to leave dreams of one’s  best selfie

Locked in memory

FXC frankxcameron.com 05/02/2021

 

 

 

 

Through the looking glass

Periodically would wonder

About my Dad, gone now since 1969 when he was 59

Death usually leaves no time for reflection

Living pulls you out of the lethargy of grief

A good man I believe, though I was only 19 then

His story was not really unusual

Military man, lawyer, father of seven

Worked every day, long hours

Often tried to imagine who he was, what he thought

Hadn’t quite gotten my act together yet

But he left me with out judgement

Who was he

Stare at his last good picture

That is all we can ever remember

Lost his Mother when he was twenty seven

Seemingly quite happy with a large brood

Though as typical  my Mother ran the house

So really shadows of memories

Sill float in my mind

As time winds down

Wondering now what legacy I will have left

Know quite well my weaknesses

Looking in my children’s eyes

As if viewing a Looking Glass

Yet at the end of the day

Pray, pray so hard

They know as I did

They are loved

As the look back

FXC frankxcameron.com 05/02/2021Copyright

 

 

 

 

Pink flowers that never die

Seems life’s lessons of late

Are learned from those just learning language itself

Always conscious of inculcating proper grammar

Pronouns, gerunds, etc.which categorize

Language that we might understand one another

But lessons never printed on a proper grammar book

Seem to be quite clear to the youngest minds

So that is why ‘artificial flowers’

Which I took to be a good explanation

Are now

Pink flowers that never die

FXC frankxcameron.com  4/8/2021 Copyright

 

 

The new season

So many seasons to play

Seemed different sports would fill the seasons

Each requiring alleged stretching and lifting suggestions

Suggestions which youth might well laugh off

But in the fall of life creeping towards winter

Muscles seem to take longer to stretch

Aches less likely to fade

But the most painful experience is illusion

That one might stop cutting the grass mid November

Then one day pull the chain to mow again in April

Mmmm yes extremely painful

An hour later one struggles to open the garage again

Pushing the disabling equipment away

For whatever reason

No connection made between pain and lawn cutting

The next morning through, over a long cup of coffee

Time permits  the memory to peel back

The idiocy of an individual

Who blissfully ended the lawn cutting season mid November

And without thought again pulled the chain  In April

Aspirin anyone?

FXC frankxcameron.com 04/05/2021 Copyright

 

 

 

 

 

The Remote

The Remote

The good old days

I beg to differ

In a court of law

Would simply need to parade

The various inventions

That have ramped up the term

Easier

Reflect now

Those of sufficient age

What you might turn to if lost

Yes GPS

Or needed to speak to someone more than 15 feet away

Yeah, cell phones

Still a few would remember the angst of not having indoor plumbing

Don’t want to step  outside to bend down for your paper

Read it online as well as shop, worship, gossip, watch movies, listen to music or Zoom

As Wi-fi endlessly streams 24/7

You can even work out to exercise videos

There was a time when a child might be considered raised and and independent

If they were toilet trained and could manually change the three channels on  the TV

But now real independence and maturity is measured by the ability

To turn off all this new fangled stuff with The Remote

FXC 4/5/2021 frankxcameron.com Copyright

 

 

The Conversation

The Conversation

Eyes focused on the goal

Backs bent pushing

You and I on the back burner

Tomorrow was like a due bill

For the 1st of the month

There would be time

To finally live our dreams

Travel to distant lands

Feel the mist of the cool ocean on our wrinkled skin

Explore a new skill set, or maybe just maybe

Plan as if we would one day actually start the car and leave the driveway

But before that happened we experimented

Slipped out one weekend to Brown County

Three days no responsibilities

Done this numerous times

Usually camping with kids

Now driving by memories

Brought more memories of our simple pleasurable past

But making new memories was going to be harder to imbed

Antique stores once seemingly on top of one another

Now seemed achingly distant

Lunch could only be obtained by further effort

2PM shuttered the day

Of course no acknowledgement by either of us

Glancing away so the subject could b avoided

Resting for just a minute should provide the impetus

To revive these septuagenarian bodies

But hours of restless reading

Just delayed the inevitable conversation

What happened?

Walking for hours, staying up late

Traveling endlessly

Were gone, very distant, even irretrievable memories

Then piece by piece what was past, what could be, and what needed to be

Were sorted out finally!

What a relief

Best three day weekend we ever had

FXC frankxcameron.com 04/02/2021 Copyright

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is what it is

A well versed lawyer familiar

With the machinations of the court room

Would often finish conversations

With the phrase

‘It is what it is’

Which I took to mean

Nothing I could do about it

Over the years though

Often heard the same phrase from others

As if an unknown pallor had descended on all of us

Yet, felt as if the phrase was meant as a cure all

To explain good news, bad news, no news

Finally learned its real purpose

Was to reduce anxiety

A free elixir to alleviate

General uneasiness brewing within us

Well that’s okay

’It is what it is’

FXC frankxcameron.com 03/21/2021 Copyright

 

 

 

 

 

The only thing worth fighting for

Traveling as often we do

To and fro

Eleven years now

So small and petite when our journeys began

There was always a destination in our plans

Life is just a chance

You were my moment to stay in the game

Aging grandfathers can flower in Florida

Letting their little ones visit

Or on the flip of a coin

Find themselves basking in the sunshine

Of their growing protege

Your first name was Princess

So always knew there was an accountability

Of our conversations

Actually my long background

Dealing with women

Prepared me to understand

Time was at a premium

Soon you would be back in school

Friends, sports, dating, career

Our time together but a memory

This past year so long

So much school work, playing, iPads, snacks, traveling

That changed today

School started back

While micromanaging your exit from the vehicle

Extolled your virtues once again

Spoke of missing you

Then your arms wrapped around my neck

Your face close to mine

You whispered, ‘Bye Papa’

Thank goodness I was wearing a mask

FXC frankxcameron.com  03/18/2021 Copyright

 

 

 

 

 

 

Micheleangolo

  • As if competing with the gods

Your eyes often transfixed upwards

Memorized by the moving clouds

Creation has always been your strength

Today is no different

Asked to paint clouds on a ceiling

You assembled your tools of creativity

But the vision remains in your mind

You feel the warm wind gently blowing

Cirrus clouds

Your scaffolding is two step stools

Hands gnarled with arthritis

But those white clouds need your touch

To exist

Please though, at 71, don’t fade into your art

FXC frankxcameron.com. 03/06/2021 Copyright

 

Ancestry

Was contacted by a family member

About our relationship

Fortunately was on good terms with this individual

But got me to wondering about those behind me and to the side

Started the search the usual way parents, grandparents

Became fascinated with the pictures

Couldn’t see  myself in any of those tin type looking pictures

Occasionally my mind would wonder

Mentally trying to picture their environment

Always sympathetic to those without indoor plumbing

But I digress

And though I wish there were biographies of my ancestors

All that really exists is conjecture

Came to understand there was strong possibility we are all related

Bad news there

I have not always treated others right

Glad I don’t have to many followers on this blog

Or I would be hearing from them

Even blocked a friend of forty years on Facebook book for his political views

Good Lord help me

Redemption is possible though

Started Zooming with outlying family members

Who I had neglected for years

So, so grateful for a second chance

To once again be called their brother!

FXC frankxcameron.com 3/6/2021 Copyright