No One But You

Itch

Starting under the surface in the most personal places
A bon fire got lit
By the waves that are undulating under my covers
Foaming , cresting, returning
Waves of salt break

This epidural barrage again at 2 AM runs
Longitudinally through the
Water at my shores
Removes the sand back to the seas in erosion
The fury of this itching
A pounding wall
Scratchlessness with screams for attention.
Sitting on the log of another evening luau.

She's Crying

Again.
Clouds darken her
Water slides down from her
dull purple marrow.

She was so lemon-up
Young the orange burst through
Warm, clowny
Giggling.

Races define her school
"To be." The being that knows
And tells, it's stupidity
It steals her joy

Tears slide washing away
The pains of thinking
Feeling just is
Sweety, we do lie.


Ladybugs

I slipped several in the calendar as the numbers today changing to May 1st
Pictures of the ladybug.
"The map is not the territory"
Pictures didn't speak to me a 1000 words.
But they quietly alluded.

In the jar on the table the 1st graders put 100's of the ladybugs
Invading our yard, losing their fears of them completely
Until in their molten glee
Another teacher who simply
Hates me for my face and 1000 mappable reasons said, "Your boys"
( obviously I must now birth them)
Your boys are not lining up!
(She'd left hers a mile away messing everywhere, to say this to me about not lining up)

"All your boys are stuffing Ladybugs in their shirt, pants, everywhere!"

One stood there, held by his shirt, red-faced.
Crawling with them.
Red winged creatures were lifting off of him in hair, off arms, his belly.
He was a helio-pad.

My answer was, "I see."

But I could not control a smile.
Why would I not allow that to lips of mine?
6 year olds with shirts full of ladybugs, up til then rather fancy
Gifts for a teacher who is certainly 'different.'
One landed on my glasses and in disgust Mrs. V walked away.


The Hardest Part

Of teaching him looking way, way back was his anger
That rode there with the self assurance that
His line of thought was spotlessly designed.
It was, after all his.
He'd yell out all the answers brutally
Framing them to tell someone else
Usually someone struggling with great,
Great things like a Dad about to die in a hospital
That they were fat or stupid, left out a letter...something.
Said to excoriate.

Then come up saying someone talked
meanly to him, if they ever, provoked, retorted in kind.
Some did unused to this competitive display.


He
Never understood that 34 kids in a class meant
34 different sets on needs and all planets in complex universes.

It was always "me" and "now."
He had to have all the answers so I thought of the Karaoke construct
He repeated things for my "hearing loss" I developed that year.
He watched me constantly for any issue of indecision ( one of my many issues),
inconsistencies, error, opinion, lack of intellectual breath,, mostly
it caused me to feel choked. But it was my job to deal
With that too and present the material as required.
If a sentence started "You said" just sit down the day's over.

I got pretty upset when he said he'd kill himself to his mom
Forgetting to tell her that day
He blazed a ball into another's head in his fury because
They supposedly made a face "at him." His tirades were to distract from that
Or So it worked. Addressing another's
Hurt or requests were unheeded largely.
He did lots of good things to try again.
Just often expecting the same rapid response times.

This child often said I "Did nothing."
or certainly not well enough and I think he did like my work
But expressed me in terms of failure.
He worried about everything and his
Thinking mind was like a blast in head all day.
Or I was lacking, somehow...no good,
He couldn't see your mind weekend and mind night work.

But even if he saw it it was not assimilated like an obsessive POV.
It just wasn't easy. You got tired of the "I'm better" stuff.
I was tired of the way it felt.
He had fantastic drawing ability. He could suspend time to work forever if wanted .
His abilities miles above peers. Extraordinary pieces.
Disorganized, Oh my. He'd metaphorically apply gum in
other's hair so the day would lose out to arguing.

I prevented the fighting.The teasing. No one that year beat him up.
That was a fact too.
Praised the effort.
I explained to him the feeling world as I know it, through me.
Talked of family, experiences
To try to build understandings.
But that was often distorted and that hurt too.
I sat outside and waited though the fits.
Walked this 11 year old to everything. Kept noise and all activity structured and
regulated
I didn't enjoy this either at times-the work.
It's my job, No punches fell I knew of but his.
But I did worry about it. i felt his anger, pain, confusion of dealing with others.

I didn't like being called stupid or the judging too much.
But I was grown and it was nothing or too big a deal
Depending. I think I saw this child pretty well,

Not so long ago I ran into him out shopping.
He said to my hello, "You got fatter Mrs. p"
I am.

Too bad really that we couldn't switch places,

A Random Act of Service ....is the love our actions do.

Kiss a frog.
Dress your sister's doll,
Climb an Everest in your way,
Give something to everyday
End this in a hug
Or Dig a flower bed
Or put a little spice in there instead

Any way you see it
When you look around
You can change the world
By serving those you found.

Drop the subject
Carry her backpack
Plan a project
That sends blankets, its all healing logic
Go to places where people have lost homes.
You could cook
Take it over
When your grandma's all alone.

Any way you see it
When you look around
You can change the world
By serving those you found.

Get a shiny quarter
Collect a dulling dime
Gather pennies in your shoe
It not a very hard
Thing to do
send them over
To someone who just really, after all, needs some more of you.

Any way you see it
When you look around
You can change the world
By serving those you found.

You have your two hands
And a beautiful face
You can be so helpful
In this earthly space
Clean a beach
Wash a car
Your actions can go so far.

Any way you see it
When you look around
You can change the world
By serving those you found.

Bending over
To pick up a spill
Is a way of saying I'm here
For you ever still
We serve each other
In the actions that we do
Every minute of our life what we do must be true.

Any way you see it
When you look around
You can change the world
By serving those you found.

Pick a pansy
Make your bouquet
Volunteer your time
There's nothing like today
Brother Martin, he is here
Seeing the actions that you do
Proud of the helping and especially of you.

Any way you see it
When you look around
You can change the world
By serving those you found.

Make a friend
Reach out to those homebound
Take a bit of energy
Make o bit of synergy
You can be the answer
To the problems of the times
Give a little love and watch it spin around.

Any way you see it
When you look around
You can change the world
By serving those you found.


A random act of service is the love our actions do.

Sunset 2008

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So on your first day 2008 how was the revolution of the earth,
Tumultuous, fiery, suffused with saffron?
It looked that way as we sat on sand
Watching the turn away tonight into darkness,
Away from the light of the starsun
On January one, 2008.

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Morning broke with Santa Ana fury
Howling all day chasing the kittens into cuddly corners.
The eucalyptus flew all over the roads, pieces as big as cars
But at dusk I went down to walk by the ocean anyway
To say goodbye to the 1st turn of this earth.
Riding, winding around and down to the beach with my daughter.

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It was magnificent, red and pink grapefruit sweet ruby sky,
Against silhouettes of the palms.
The winds retreated to wherever they come from,
So that night could creep in silently.
Calmy. With a prettiness. Like when in love you receive a bouquet,
Tentatively, shyly, red-faced a bit in a blush.

So came our dusk.
2008 coming to our lives.

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All Sons

On The First Day of School

Sometimes in the current accountability age where we work very hard
At transparency, whatever that is
(Try explaining the means to the end)
I look at this photograph of my little one on his first day of school

I look especially hard as I work in my 1st grade room everyday
Arranging a way to reach for the Stars
(Can you believe the irony that called the state tests this?)
My school is pitching into the abyss of "school failure"
My students in poverty in a widening gap.



Meanwhile I'm fending off the feeling that bubbling a test
Might feel important enough to justify this mess I'm in,
Until I look at his face.
And then I think about things from another perspective as a mother,
Or friend to someone that cares about their child's first days
In school.

Lulee met Pepe this very first day, his best friend, that mattered
Mrs. Reeber one of my closest friends as his teacher too.
He liked the blocks, running in the bushes, telling things,
I was called to his school from mine a week
Or so after this picture by an angry, exasperated Principal spouse.

"You have to get over here right now I can't take this."
Luca had taken over the bottom of his desk in playful opposition to the Pirate BlackPete
His name for his father, he was giving no ground, had em by the ba**s.
Stating, "I have you by the bloody ba**s."
I said, "Get out here right now." and we went home, me early,

Stopping for an ice cream and a short talk about the BlackPete's real other job.
"Daddy has Work and Reputation" and I it ended with,
"Just stop with the fits or no doughnuts."
He would get so tired from maintaining at school.

One day he started throwing a tantrum like
He saw on the video of the Angels in the Outfield
Called me "You ass" after we got home
It's an odd feeling to hear your child call you that at 5.
Which was a little funny if you look at him above with his tender little mouth.

In a few weeks of his first school days his teacher (knowing my humor) shared
What happened in the "discussion" that day during Red Ribbon Week
As we pledged country wide to "Just Say No."
(Explaining to the kids no to what was not so easy...)

I'm thinking as she shares this, oh no...where is this one going.
He was frantic with worry over the pending divorce of his parents, she said.
Crying. She was so worried over his crying.
"Where will I live? Who will take care of me?
My father, Black Pete has been drinking beer every night.
He has a serious problem and it's ruining us all."

I chased him that night around the bushes as he started running
The minute she finished telling me.
"I will catch you I said"...I will.
But I actually didn't. It was, however, soon all over the school district
That my son had a beer guzzling pirate Principal for a father who was
Ready or planning to leave us in the nearest ditch.

Luca the actor. He has a flair
I've found this rather irresistible. He's been a good boy.
School has been both good and bad for him.
It's funny today he left another three week project at school
Making yet another mess that gets resolved by complete family catharsis.

It would seem that point values and due dates
Don't quite bring about the linear responsibilities and
Behaviors so loved by the present system in him.
He has tremendous mental discipline and then
Here I am running after him again in the damn bushes, an ass.

He told his 1st grade in the 1st week of school
He was going to be a Pet psychologist
Though deathly afraid of all animals so at the time this
Really made me laugh, but now at 13
He would make a pretty good psychologist for a pet

He is very sensitive to all the animals we keep together.
Luca is an artist. Artists maybe are not so well developed in our schools.
Not anymore. He likes to observe and focus, design and draw.
He tears up a lot of work.
Stops and calls it awful, quits, explodes
Goes to his room and sits alone
Until his sister coaxes him into a better place.

You know what I wish I could do
Take my days teaching to heart all the time, as if I were teaching my own
And find in the relationships, in all my moments the
Heart we find for our babies. The struggle to understand them.


A friend keeps talking to me, in his way
Of the love we have for our children.
It's a mutual understanding of their importance to us
And the love that grows and allows us insight and concern
Empathy and this compassion. It is hard. We are sadly inadequate.

That Confucian cycle of how we can relate one to another in this life.
He reminds me of this, over my words to him, unheard maybe,
Of my son as the best thing that ever happened to me.
But he just popped his sister.


I often think each parent comes to my room
Praying inwardly I'll understand their child this way.
Help them become the best child they can be
Motivate them into caring so much, into finding joy
Into spending a day, everyday, in feeling competent and having friends.

In helping them into wanting to be where they are and not wishing
They were somewhere else feeling adrift and alienated
Wanting to lose the now, it is to this
I look at my son seeing all sons
Knowing schools can transform to create this I think I can help that

My little classroom has a lot of meaning to make
Hearts to motivate and trees to climb
A garden, a play yard, a place to dig in to work hard, a place
Of kindness and understanding where
You learn that the world is mysterious, wondrous
Sometimes I'm the a**, yes.

I still look at this picture as I look at another I drew
Of a child lost in poverty that so wanted to read and know
And I just think, what test am I giving now, really?
What score, what purpose to my reasons.
As I cross the threshold today to prepare the "surprises" for Monday

Oh my crew of little 6 year olds in South Oxnard.
That want so much to find their way into this world.
Looking over as Luca struggles through his homework.
And states he hates what he is doing.

Dreams

Of Sylvia

My daughter was in my dreams two night past
At college now, there are days I grieve my loneliness.
And think how foolish, stop this.
My life was built around her tiny hand in mine.
You would think each night dream would be of her
But, no, just there two nights ago, after three months away.
And I felt anxious. Suffocating and woke gasping.
Images of not really having made her ready enough to meet the dangers
In life, these were in my flashes of insight.

I put on my little lamp and looked out into my room.
Alone with these fears. That my daughter was not safe.
In the morning I couldn't reach her by phone.
It's mildly ironic as this was the recurrent nightmare I've had for
Twenty some years about her father, and in many ways she is his image.
She is very hard to catch, well, like a moonbeam. Cliche but so.
She left me an email this morning, a cry in her dark.
Her friend  at school bled to death internally in the night,
Some horrific collapse at their school that no one could understand
And I thought of the dream, and how hard it is
For me to protect her from this awful pain.


Little one she was so hurt when characters in her books suffered.
I tried to pluck those books away from her
Stone fox still hangs in the air as a story that she felt so deeply.
In my daughter my capacity for empathy and pain, joy and dreaming found companion
She has gone to her school that is popped from Potter's
And death struck like a viper but I cannot
Pull this volume away, she's read it now
I can't take this kind of knowing from her or shield it.

On the phone this tiny distracted frightened voice said
Bravely , "He was so kind and loved by everyone,
there was no one that did not speak so well of him, mummy."
And you want to encapsulate this in some grand wisdom, design,
Some truth and all I could say was I had no reasons.
The first time I ever saw her bleed she cut herself on a metal train toy
That I threw away brashly and instinctively called it "Bad."
To distract her. And it got to me. I've seen this so much
With three children and teaching but that tiny cut on her finger got to me.
Syl was so shocked and looked at it in horror.
This thing hurt me, how could this happen?

This thing, this nightmare hurts her, how can such a thing happen?
How can such a good child go away like this?

Job Poems For Children

ASTRONAUTS

10 to the moon

9 to the stars

8 to the heavens

7 to Mars

6 to the universe

5 to the sky

4 to the atmosphere

3 to so high

2 to the planets

1 to the sun

BLAST-OFF!, BLAST-OFF!, BLAST-OFF! WHAT FUN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE BARBER

Climb up in the chair.

And ask for it long.

He pulls out the clippers.

Your hair is all gone.

THE BRAKEMAN

The steam whistle blows,

Slowly she rolls,

Down the rail,

Down the rail,

Down the line.

The doors they all close,

On time she must go,

Down the rail,

Down the rail,

Down the track.

The brakes in his hand,

To stop he’ll command,

Halt the cars,

Halt the cars,

Halt the train.

The brakeman must stop,

The trains they all hop,

Slowing down,

Slowing down,

Slow to stop.

The engineer saw,

In the rails a flaw,

Brakeman please,

Brakeman please,

Brakeman please brake.

The brakeman he broke,

Derailment’s no joke,

Down the rail,

Down the rail,

Down the line.

A CADDY

A caddy carries your bag,

And helps you choose your club,

Advises you on wind and lie,

So your shot you won’t flub.

The golf course is their office,

The tees and fairways too,

The yardage they must measure,

The pin they’ll tend for you.

A caddy wakes up early,

And rises with the sun,

They watch for pars and bogeys,

Till golfers all are done.

CHEMISTS

Inside of test-tubes,

On hot Bunsen burners,

Experiments boil and bubble.

The chemist pours liquids,

And stirs up the contents,

Avoiding some chemical trouble.

In their white jackets,

And wearing their goggles,

They mix up a chemical brew.

To make a new plastic,

Or some new detergent,

That cleans up some mess made by you.

COAL MINERS

Coal miners live

In an unknown state.

Their lives are dirty and short.

Each day in the hole

They all must tempt fate,

Down in their underground fort.

In cold, hard, black earth

The coal miner searches,

For black coal to burn

While the silence it lurches.

Fuel for the cities, the towns and the nations.

Coal miners kids get a coal education.

Their creeks running red from the run-off of mines,

Their sweat runs off too in red streams.

They live back in places that no one can find,

With days that are dark like their dreams.

No one works harder with picks or with axes,

To pay for their food and their rent and their taxes.

Their faces are darkened by soot from the coal,

Our houses are lit by the light in their souls.

YOUR DENTIST

Your dentist knows your mouth,

Bicuspids and molars too.

Baby teeth and broken teeth,

And why your gums turn blue.

Sugar is their nemesis,

Their scourge,

Their mortal foe.

They drill and brush,

And fill the holes,

So sugar you should know.

Can make your dentist very mad.

Steam from their ears and oh so sad,

To see a young and tender mouth,

With cavities that lay about.

So many fillings you hardly see,

A speck of white when you smile with glee.

Your dentist knows your mouth.

DOCTORS

Doctors wear white coats.

Doctors give you shots.

They tell you what is healthy to do,

And warn you against what’s not.

Doctors take your temperature.

Doctors hear your cough.

You wait for them in little rooms,

With most of your clothes off.

Doctors look in your ears.

Doctors look in your eyes.

They help you with a runny nose,

Your bruises, bumps, and styes.

Doctors give you medicine.

Doctors make boo-boos stop.

And when you leave their office,

They give you lollipops.

DOGS

What’s your dog do for a living?

Do they bite or scratch for fleas?

What’s your pet dog’s occupation?

Do they get paid just to sneeze?

Perhaps they’re a dog farmer,

Growing all the good dog crops,

Or maybe they’re a doggy salesman,

Selling doggy soda pop.

But maybe they’re a dog-catcher,

And have to catch their friends.

They chase them in a big white truck,

And put a leash on them.

Does your dog have to have a job?

To eat and play and sleep.

Or can they waste the day away,

And dream of counting sheep.

What’s your dog do for a living?

Maybe they are just a dog,

For that you get no money,

Just like falling off a log.

EXTERMINATORS

Kill kill kill

Spray spray spray

Bugs and rats better go away

Termites termites

All go hide

Exterminators are waiting outside

Spray walls

Spray floors

Spray ceilings

Spray rugs

Poor little bugs, little poor dead bugs

Poor little squashed little legs in the air

Had no business living in there

Mom called their number

They came to the door

They killed them all

And there isn’t anymore

Spray spray spray

Dead bugs make their day

THE FATMAN IN THE CIRCUS

Every eye in the tent has gaped at him.

Has stared,

His incredible fat.

His body seems never ending,

How did he get like that?

How much food can one man eat?

How bad does he feel deep inside?

Maybe he’s fat from some dreaded disease,

Maybe he eats just to hide.

His job,

It’s not an easy one.

His job,

No one should do.

All of those people who look at him,

Should try wearing,

The fat man’s shoes.

FIREFIGHTERS

Firefighters wear helmets,

Swoosh down fire poles,

Hang on hook “n” ladders,

They dig fire holes.

They rescue crying babies,

And get cats down from trees,

They even put a band-aid,

On a boo-boo on my knee.

Firefighter’s friend is water,

They hate the smell of smoke,

“Hey! Don’t play with matches kid.”

To them it’s not a joke.

Firefighters fight with fires,

They don’t want things to burn.

They go to fire college,

To learn what they must learn.

They learn to carry hoses,

And climb ladders with speed,

They learn to do the fire things,

And, yes, they learn to read.

Firefighters they are valiant.

Firefighters they are brave.

Firefighters they are women and men,

Someday perhaps they’ll save,

Your house,

Your car,

Or dog or cat,

Your brand new bike,

Your this your that,

Your grandpa and your grandma too,

A firefighter,

Might even save you.

GARBAGEMEN

Garbagemen wake early,

They rise up with the sun.

They jump aboard their giant trucks,

For a day that’s filled with fun.

One man drives the steering wheel,

The other hangs on back.

They stop the truck outside your house,

And fill their garbage sacks.

They pick up trash and rubble too,

Bones and paper, gums that chewed.

Empty bottles, empty cans,

Broken toys and pots and pans.

Slimy, stinking, rotten things,

All the junk that living brings.

Used up hankies and old meat loaves,

Things that burned up in the stove.

All the stuff that stinks in cans,

Gets on their clothes and on their hands.

In their hair and in their eyes,

They come home with a great big sigh.

Their spouses won’t hug them,

And their kids won’t kiss.

The whole darn family

Will act like this.

Till after a shower,

For over an hour,

They enter and smell squeaky clean.

Their family loves them,

Kisses and hugs them,

And forget how they acted so mean.

Garbagemen do an honest job.

They clean up our unwanted blobs,

They do what nobody wants to do,

They haul away all your garbage for you.

GEOLOGISTS

Geologists love rocks,

Volcanic rocks and coal,

Sediment and lava rocks,

Any rock that’s old.

They love to study crystals,

Fossils, mud and sand,

You can tell a geologist,

By the dirt that’s on their hands.

They keep their rocks at home.

They keep them in their car.

They’ve got rocks in bags,

And they’ve got rocks in jars.

Rocks are on their table.

Rocks are on their bed.

Some of them,

Might even have,

Rocks inside their head.

A HAIR STYLIST

Mousse, spray, blowers, combs,

Scissors, aprons, styles,

Razors, wigs, and styling gel,

Cut and always smile.

“Oh you look so wonderful ! ”

“Oh you look so chic ! ”

“You would turn their heads for sure ! “

“With all those fab blue streaks. ”

Curls, tints, dyes and splashes,

Shampoos, perms and frosts,

Coffees, teas, French magazines,

Inflate the stylist’s cost.

Color, length, part and wave,

Braids, duck-tails, hair dos,

Cut and clip the day away,

So your hair looks good on you.

JANITORS

Dirt, grime, muck, funk,

Paper, trash, garbage, junk,

Messes, spills, spoils, splats,

Food, gum, ants, rats,

Polish, spray, vacuum, shine,

Dust, clean, cleanse, find,

Janitors do all that,

and more..........

LANDSCAPERS

Landscapers cut grass,

They throw mulch on beds,

They dig holes for trees,

While they scratch their heads.

They rake up dead leaves,

And stuff them in bags,

They tie up tomatoes,

With little white rags.

They edge all your sidewalks,

And sprinkle your lawn.

They make it look beautiful,

And then they are gone.

Their boots are all green,

And their faces are tan.

They work in the sun,

And blister their hands.

They’re so good with shovels,

And mowers and hoes,

They mow your green yard into luscious, long rows.

They wake with the sun,

They work till it sets,

They spend the whole evening,

To try to forget,

Their sore, aching muscles,

And all their stiff bones,

That gives them their pains,

And their stains,

And their groans.

LAWYERS

Lawyers sue people,

They help those who are sued.

For clients they seek their rewards.

Lawyers plead cases,

And search out the truth,

Hoping the judge will award.

They try to win cases,

No matter the crime,

Protecting defendants,

From doing their time.

Lawyers for unions,

And car crashes too,

Argumentative skills must be sly,

Divorces and felonies, tickets and suits,

To try to do justice they try

SHHHHH...... IT’S THE LIBRARIAN

Deep in the books,

Fly dirty looks.

Some quiets, some shushes,

Some stares and some hushes.

Shhhhh...... it’s the librarian.

Adventures make me yell,

Mysteries make me scream,

Science makes me wonder,

And fantasies make me dream.

Shhhhh...... it’s the librarian.

But I misplaced my card,

Though I looked so hard,

I just love the books,

But not dirty looks.

Shhhhh...... it’s the librarian.

I know what I’ll do,

I’ll carry some tape,

So when I read a book,

No sounds will escape.

Shhhhh...... it’s the librarian.

A LION TAMER

With a whip

With a chair

A snap in the air

A growl and a roar

Lion tamer no more.

Burp!

LUMBERJACKS

Lumberjacks chop trees,

With saws and axes too,

Chain saws, rip saws, two-man saws,

What it takes they’ll use.

A harness used for climbing,

And boots with long sharp spikes,

Makes it so much easier,

So up the tree they hike.

Chopping off the branches,

The tree is set to go,

The jacks down under yell,

“Timberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Look out below ! ”

A lumberjack’s a climber,

A chopper and roller too,

There’s just about no job in the woods,

A lumberjack can’t do.

They eat green forest breakfasts,

And some say they eat trees,

When at some forest restaurant,

They’ll ask for pine cones please.

THE MAIL CARRIER

Sometimes dogs might bite them.

Sometimes snow might slow them down.

Sometimes the mail might burden their back.

All those letters,

That fill up their sack,

But mail carriers always deliver.

Sometimes the rain pours down on them.

Sometimes the wind blows hard on them.

Sometimes their route seems ever so long.

Many mail days,

Go nothing but wrong,

But mail carriers always deliver.

Sometimes the junk mail weighs on them.

Sometimes the packages weigh on them.

Sometimes the mail might weigh them down.

All those miles,

Round your town,

But mail carriers always deliver

MATHEMATICIANS

Do you blunder with numbers?

Is your two and two eight?

Well, call Mrs. Math,

She will help you feel great,

She’s got numbers on slide rules,

And numbers on lines.

Some on calculators,

And some that are prime,

Numbers in problems,

That perplex your head,

Numbers in answers,

And errors instead.

Numbers in money,

And numbers in banks,

Numbers are funny,

They even drive tanks.

Mathematicians love numbers,

They see them as art.

They sleep with their numbers,

They’re never apart.

They’ll marry one person,

And then have ten kids,

Just because they are,

A kid-counting whiz.

CALL THE MECHANIC

Engines cough,

Tires pop,

Turn it off,

Make it stop,

Call the mechanic.

Grease and grime,

Gas and tools,

Oil leaking,

Into pools,

Call the mechanic.

Carburetors,

Clutches, gears,

Steering wheels,

That cannot steer,

Call the mechanic.

Squeaks and noise,

Grown up toys,

Go real fast,

So your car lasts,

Call the mechanic.

MUSICIANS

Musicians swing

Musicians tap

Musicians strum

Musicians clap

Musicians rock

Musicians roll

Musicians jam

Out of control

Musicians drum

Musicians blow

Musicians sing

Musicians go

Musicians dance

Musicians smile

Musicians play

The latest style

Musicians trumpet

Musicians bow

Musicians whistle

Musicians flow

Musicians jump

Musicians slide

Musician take

You on a ride

THE OPERA SINGER

My voice is a tool,

And so as a rule,

I pamper and soothe it with ice.

My instrument you see,

Is always with me,

In my throat it fits rather nice.

Exercise it with care,

And take in fresh air,

And warm it when it’s cold at night.

My voice can reach high,

To notes that can fly,

Each sound, every tone,

Must be right.

THE OPTOMETRIST

They almost always wear glasses.

They wear white lab coats too.

They strap you into their machines,

Your eyes they check for you.

They tell you’re 20/20.

Near sighted or something like that.

Sometimes they go so far to say,

That you’re blind as a bat.

They almost always wear glasses.

THE PHOTOGRAPHER

Click, click,

The shudder is quick.

What you see,

Is what you get.

Or is it?

Developers, enlargers,

Baths of all types,

Develop your picture,

To make it just right.

THE PICKERS

The sun beats down,

The vegetables grow,

The sprinklers water,

The pickers sow,

The seeds that grow to sit on your table.

The pesticides fly,

The boxes in rows,

The sun wakes early,

The pickers all go.

To their home, to their town, to their waiting families.

The tomatoes are ripe,

The carrots in ground,

The planes they are swooping,

And the choppers hover down,

Spraying the field’s bugs in their clouds.

The pickers stoop,

The pickers all know,

The pickers work hard,

The pickers work so,

They can feed, they can care, they can clothe.

A PLUMBER

A plumber fixes pipes,

Your moans and groans and gripes,

Your plugged up sink,

Your clogged up drain,

A leaky sewer plugged by rain.

A plumber uses wrenches,

To clean up stinks and stenches.

Opens sinks and old bathtubs,

Washers, showers, fireplugs.

A plumber drives their truck,

To pick your pipe that’s stuck.

You rammed it full of lots of things,

Garbage bags and tacks and rings,

Banana peels and lots of hair,

All the stuff that would go down there.

They ask you why you shoved that muck,

Until your pipe was very stuck.

And you just say with a sheepish grin,

That you wanted to watch them fix it again.

A POET’S LIFE

A poet’s life is often sad,

Alone writing sonnet or rhyme.

Some say a poet is often quite mad,

When pondering rhythmical line.

A poet’s word must come from their life,

It symbolizes their soul.

A poet’s life may be filled with strife,

The words must come from a hole.

A cavity where emotions hid,

A place where poetry hides.

A cave of words and things that they did,

These places keep poets alive.

POLICE

The people in blue,

Are there for you.

With gun and badge,

They must be true.

The people in blue,

Are loyal too,

With nightstick in hand,

They must protect you.

The people in blue,

Are brave people who,

With smarts and care,

Do what we don’t dare.

The people in blue,

Are there for you,

And with a kind word,

They will try to help you.

A POLITICIAN

“ Vote for me,”

“And I’ll do what you say.”

Said the shrewd politician in their speech on that day.

Your vote provides money,

To help run the land,

To satisfy interests,

And grease a few hands.

It’s a job that’s not easy,

You must please all sides,

Though that seems impossible,

A politician must try.

They work in the government,

So the nation can grow.

To write down our laws,

And pave our new roads.

Congressman, presidents, representatives too,

Councilman, judges, they all work for you.

Your vote puts them in,

Where power they hold,

To make our decisions,

To protect our gold.

The good and the honest and loyal we need,

The bad and deceptive just do it for greed.

Like all other people,

Some good and some bad,

Just look at our history,

At all we have had.

Some heroes, some crooks,

Most just average men,

That take on the job,

We elected for them.

What this country needs,

Is some people to say,

I can be honest and fair everyday,

And if you are honest and ethical too,

Plenty of people just might vote for you.

PRINCIPALS

Principals

Can be

Your friends

Can be

Bad news

It all

Depends.

PSYCHOLOGISTS

Psychologists try to explain,

What’s going on inside your brain.

They’d like to know the reasons for,

The things we do and so much more.

By staring into their ink blots,

Psychologists tell quite a lot.

About our fears and worries too.

The reasons for the things we do.

Psychologists try to repair,

The boo-boos hiding deep in there.

They prod and poke our childhood,

Until they find what’s bad and good.

To see if you are mad or sane,

So when you’re done you won’t complain,

About their fee that’s madly high,

Money spent to laugh and cry.

PUBLISHERS

A publisher’s job deals with books,

Their style, their content, their looks.

They sell them, they print them,

They buy them, they mint them.

Money to them comes from books.

A publisher must know their words.

Words about countries and birds,

Words about money,

And words that are funny,

Because words are the bricks of a book.

A publisher publishes books.

Written by authors and cooks,

Written by artists and ghostwriters too,

Written by writers and people like you.

It’s people who read and write books.

PUGILISTS, BOXERS, OR FIGHTERS

Roadwork running miles a day

Speed work make the speed bag sway

Power work slug the heavy bag

Roadwork go till your butt drags

Running, punching, jumping rope.

Training, paining, straining, hope

Shadow box

Punch at thin air

Pretend the opponent

Is really there

Sweat and grime

It flies and drips

Gatorade

Your fluids sip

Fight night arrives

The fans alive

Tensions high

You meet their eye

Cold and empty

Dangerous

Wrap your hands

Wrap your wrists

Ding, ding, ding

The fight bell rings

The boxer’s art

It sometimes stings

The pugilist performs their art

The fight is over

Soon after its start

Round 4

Box no more

KO in thirty

They’re out on the floor

ROCK “N” ROLL STARS

Leather pants

Girls dance

Rock “n” roll stars

Wild crowds

Music’s loud

Rock “n” roll stars

Screeching guitars

Limousine cars

Rock “n” roll stars

Laser beam lights

Leotard tights

Rock “n” roll stars

Flash in the pans

Where are the fans?

Rock “n” roll stars

Deadened deaf ears

Doesn’t hear clear

Rock “n” roll stars

Long live rock “n” roll

Reunion bands

Can come back though

Rock “n” roll stars

SEWER WORKER

Down in the sludge,

Where they barely can budge,

Their boots in the slop,

They come to a stop.

To inspect a drain,

That’s clogged up by rain,

By sewage and gunk,

And all kinds of funk.

His nose in a pin,

He opens again,

So down flows the muck,

That once had been stuck.

A SHORT-ORDER COOK

A short-order cook,

Can flip you a burger,

Fry you some fries,

Or charcoal a steak.

They’ll toss you a salad,

Or serve you some oatmeal,

Saute some onions,

Or flip a pancake.

But a short-order cook

Is not chef or gourmet,

They don’t deal with pastry,

Or bake a souffle.

They cook what is simple,

And easy to make.

A burger and fries,

Or maybe a steak.

SKYSCRAPER

WINDOW

WASHERS

High

High

High

High

High

High

High

In the

Air

The Win-

dow-

Wash-

er

Is

Wash-

ing

Up

There.

SNAKE HANDLERS

Snake handlers

Handle snakes

Snakes that spit

Spitting snakes

Snakes that squeeze

Squeezing snakes

Snakes that rattle

Rattle snakes

Snakes that quiver

Quivering snakes

Snakes that bite

Biting snakes

Snakes that are poison

Venomous snakes

Snake handlers

Handle snakes

SPEECH PATHOLOGISTS

Your lisp,

Your slur,

They cure.

Studder

Or shy,

They’ll try.

They can tell,

How to speak well.

Form lips,

Tongue tips,

No slips.

STUNT PEOPLE

Stunt people crash!

Stunt people slam!!

Stunt people punch!

Stunt people wham!!

Stunt people crunch!

Stunt people slide!!

Stunt people hunch!

Stunt people ride!!

Stunt people swoosh!

Stunt people glide!!

Stunt people break!

Stunt people bust!!

Stunt people fake!

Stunt people must!!

Be careful.

A SUPERINTENDENT

A superintendent

Intends

To do

Super things.

They’re the boss

To teachers and principals too,

To bus drivers, janitors,

And students like you.

What super things

Does a super do ?

They organize people

Who organize you.

They manage the money

And people at school.

That’s what’s super

About what supers do.

TEACHERS

I had a preacher for a teacher once,

And some that too were nuns.

Some teachers were so boring - snooze zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

And others were quite fun.

Most wrote on the chalkboard,

And put red marks for spelling.

If they weren’t whispering,

Sometimes they were yelling.

Teachers make you walk in lines,

And make you raise your hand.

They cross their eyes and crimp their nose,

When you don’t understand.

They greet you in the morning,

Dismiss you at the bell.

I wonder if they ever leave,

I guess they’ll never tell.

THE TRAPEZE ARTIST

High above the arena,

At the apex of the tent,

Soars a flying Walenda,

Body straight then bent.

Performing a double half axle,

And then a triple Boroni,

This Walenda’s an artist for sure,

He’s surely not a phoney.

The mouths are all wide open,

As he tries a brand new double,

The clowns begin to run around,

Provoking all kinds of mad trouble.

The crowd moans a gasp,

As Walenda he misses,

And falls to the net,

Among whispers and hisses.

He’s the star of the circus,

The big top’s dare devil.

Flying so carefree,

So straight and so level.

He’ll startle and scare us,

He’ll make us all smile.

We feel so free when,

We aloft for a while.

A WAITER

They take your order

They smile

They bring you water

They smile

They bring you your salad or soup

They smile

They bring you your entree

They smile

They ask if everything’s alright

They smile

They clear your plate

They smile

They tell you what’s for dessert

They smile sweetly

They pour you coffee

They smile

They bring the check

They smile harder

They say goodbye

They smile

They clear your table and take your tip

They smile.

THE WARDEN

“ Let me out Warden,

I didn’t do it.”

“ Let me out Warden,

I didn’t mean it.”

“ Let me out Warden,

I’ll never do it again.”

Said the prisoner then.

“ No, nope, no way, no how,

You did the crime and,

You’ll pay for it now.”

“I’ll try to be fair,

I’ll see to what’s right,

But in this here jail,

You’d better not fight,

You’d better not lie,

Not steal,

Not try,

To climb the big fence,

And hide like a spy,

For you’ll never make it,

No, never escape.”

Said the confident Warden,

To the prison inmate.

A WATCHMAKER

A watchmaker always knows the time.

A watchmaker is very precise.

A watchmaker’s time is never behind.

A watchmaker is very concise.

A watchmaker arranges the gears.

A watchmaker prepares the watch face.

A watchmaker has but seconds to fear,

A watchmaker and time always race.