POEMVEMBER 2018-DAY 12: “Day In Day Out”

“Day In Day Out” ©️ C.P. Hickey 2018

“Day In Day Out”

If I paddled upstream,

I would remain in place.

Everlasting lines at the grocery,

Folks fighting tooth and nail over clipped coupons.

The is no clear cut winner in that scenario despite whomever wins.

Facebook comments are often misleading and misinformed.

Ranting and raving is rewarded with a higher blood pressure.

Some salad bars are filthy.

The sneeze guard is filthiest.

That is of course, until you pick up tongs that may or may not have fell on the floor.

Day in day out, disappointment looms large.

I remain impressed by how bad it can get, and how quickly that can happen.

And then, somehow, I remember everything I forgot

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“Parenting S.O.S”

“Parenting S.O.S”

With all due respect to others that won’t admit so,

Parenting really crushes a soul.

Try as one might,

The only antidote is to temper your own expectations,

So that disbelief at the ordinary can become as sublimated as one’s ego needs to be in order to raise little versions of yourself.

Ego, must go, be gone,

Ergo: let go.

Somewhere along the line,

You realize how impossibly frustrating it must be for your partner to deal with you,

As it becomes evident that three foot versions of yourselves that share genetic material, are enough to send one to the cold slumped embrace of a worn body pillow.

Tears are friends,

Screaming into a howling wind is your best friend.

The best time is when everyone is asleep,

Unless of course, you awake to disembodied eyes an inch from your face saying in a stealthy whisper, “Daddy…Daddy…Daddy”.

Give away all your “good” furniture, and don’t warm to the idea of any type of boundary.

They find you when you poop.

They find you…when you poop!

The first few years are dedicated to just keeping em alive.

The next few are populated with a litany of negotiations, and then someday, you have strangers that look like you, hating you because you became your parents and asked them to be accountable for their behavior.

There is no experience quite like the raising of children.

Nothing so hard and fraught with uncertainty, but also nothing so deeply imbued with a sense of the possibility of imminent loss just when you hold onto it the hardest.

So much to lose, so much to do, so much to prove.

We’re all screwed.

Mayday! Mayday!

Play date! Play date!

A parenting S.O.S, from one in distress.

I’m doing my best.

I’m doing my best.

“Sugar Daddy”

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“Sugar Daddy”

One time when I was a kid,

I woke up with enthusiastic hiccups.

I woke my Father, he was nearest the bedroom door.

He walked me down the hallway,

To the kitchen.

Turned on the light,

And grabbed a cup from the cupboard.

Then, he grabbed the sugar jar,

Spooning out three teaspoons of granulated elixir.

He ran the kitchen faucet,

Then filled the sugared glass three quarters of the way up.

I kept hiccuping enthusiastically throughout.

He encouraged me to drink the filled cup.

And then walked me back down the hallway,

Stopping at my room to tuck me into my bed.

Somehow, the hiccups lost their enthusiasm,

And I was able to go back to sleep.

If there were such a thing as a time machine,

I think, I’d like to go back to that particular moment, and thank my Father for his magic.

40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam! – Day 40 – “strength, change, adversity, starting over, love, childhood, future, healing power of laughter, parent for the first time”

Long-Straight-Sunset-Road
http://www.johnlund.com/Images/Long-Straight-Sunset-Road.jpg

“strength, change, adversity, starting over, love, childhood, future, healing power of laughter, parent for the first time”

Strength

change
adversity
starting over
love
childhood
future
healing power of laughter
parent for the first time

Change

parent for the first time
strength
healing power of laughter
adversity
future
starting over
childhood
love

Healing Power of Laughter

love
future
parent for the first time
starting over
childhood
adversity
strength
change

Love

future
starting over
adversity
strength
parent for the first time
change
healing power of laughter
childhood

Adversity

future
strength
starting over
childhood
love
change
parent for the first time
healing power of laughter

Childhood

healing power of laughter
change
love
childhood
starting over
strength
parent for the first time
future

Adversity

change
childhood
starting over
strength
healing power of laughter
future
parent for the first time
love

Future

adversity
healing power of laughter
change
parent for the first time
love
starting over
childhood
strength

A very special thanks to Paula H, for an abundance of words that change depending on your perspective.

40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam is a project in which people have joined me for 40 days and 40 nights of on-demand poetry. They have submitted the concepts, ideas, and subjects; I’ve done the work.

40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam! – Day 12 – “Dappled Spectacle”

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“Dappled Spectacle”

We lived on the second floor growing up.

The sounds of neighborhood proximity danced through the screens and curtain sheers on sunny shadowed mornings.

The aliveness of the day pulled us out of our sweaty summer beds, and coaxed us out, out.

At times, our apartment felt like the sun, and we would need to escape outside to a Bunker Hill breeze.

There was one box fan for the whole apartment.

It toiled, satisfactory, but disappointing.

A dip in the Clougherty Pool, could take the sting off.

Then we’d play endless evening rituals, while our mothers squatted on park benches and smoked butts.

The Slush Guy would come ringing his bell.

Small 50¢, medium 75¢, large $1.00.

Lemon, Watermelon, Banana, or a Rainbow.

We’d haunt our mothers until they fidged quarters and moist dollar bills that smelled of tobacco from their change purses and cigarette cases.

My mother always kept her potential cigarettes in the refrigerator. She’d say, “it keeps them freshah.”

Summer nights lasted through orange-blue skies, that got further into shadow, just as the games of hide and seek would start to get good.

Then we’d hear the call.

Time to go back to the heat rising second floor walk-up.

Sweat the night, and be up all the earlier the next day, to get out into life.

A very special thank you, to the neighborhood of North Mead St. a great place to grow up, and share with so many great people. I truly miss them all, and dance with their ghosts as they wind their way through my head.

40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam is a project in which people have joined me for 40 days and 40 nights of on-demand poetry. They have submitted the concepts, ideas, and subjects; I’ve done the rest.