Four Poster Bed
That four poster bed and me at the foot…
was the beginnings of beginnings
and the irony it took.
My Mother’s plight to come back home,
when our Father’s fights,
were all we had known.
Grandparents adjusting
and opening their doors,
no one needed to sleep on the floor.
The nights we laid, kittens in bed,
me at the foot,
as they snuggled at the head.
Quilts laid busy acoss us just right,
four poster jammed,
with three quite a sight.
As we grew older and given each a bed,
I will never forget the four poster bed,
me at the foot and they at the head.
I wonder in life when all things askew
and the trials I endured
whether old or renewed.
If being at the foot of this bed
gave me the will to survive,
in keeping my head.
© CMM 2002
Profane Professor
The middle aged professor with half a balding spot
stands upon his desk yelling expletives and nots’.
The ‘f’s’ and the ‘f’s’ don’t you understand,
‘malfunctioning world, is as I explain of man.’
After all I am brilliant and have a degree,
some call me elitist, some a pedigree.
You are the fools that sit here in your desk,
as I postulate and rage without your protest.
I have lost my semblance of professional and poise,
you will hear me teach and it only sounds like noise.
Where do we get these educators yelling at the youth,
claiming this is intelligence and pretending it is couth.
Disorganized and frayed, they walk late into the class,
wasting money called tuition, they bleed from the mass.
So please Mr. Professor, get down from your chair,
try to get outside yourself and pretend you care.
Try to think we have value and a few little brains,
impart your wisdom and learn to pronounce our names.
Copyrighted: 2006 CMM
The Day of Valentine
Oh, but the heart that has labored love
in laced valentine’s of past.
Cutting out the ribbons of red,
to give in hopes that love will last.
The confectionaries create their wares
and boxed in all heart’s and sizes.
As anticipation builds in
the expectant heart she prizes.
The day will wear and waiting passes.
How will the promise come?
The time for many and then a few
but, from the hopeful one?
© CMM 2012
life’s stump
circles and rhytmns
time pushes out
round and round
decays of lies
placed in forgotten
rings of covered maskings
and the circles and rhythms
continue on,
growing into to a stump
to cut into history
rediscovering it still
exist…
copyrighted: 2017
Tides
Rushing
towards me in rhythm
pushing, pulling in tides
of undertow and strong currents.
I rest, for the tides of my soul
are brought into the life of the sea.
Copyrighted: CMM 2011
Young Man’s American Dream
Opening day, it’s now time to play, the game found in cornfields and parks.
American way, a game that will stay, the home run you want before dark.
Hammering’ Hank, Mickey, the Yankee Clipper, Smokey Joe, and all the greats,
brings every little boy hopes and dreams as he enters for the first time their gates.
DiMaggio and Galvin echoes at the bat as America starts the baseball season’s fun.
Major Leagues, Minors, town teams and little leagues all strive for the famous home run.
A moment of summer in sweltering heat, the sun changes position at your back,
Let’s cheer our team and share a time of America with peanuts in a paper sack.
One, Two, Three Strikes “You’re Out”,they yell as another approaches the bat.
Root toot, toot for the home team, as the dust cloud forms at the mat…
copyrighted: 2001 CMM
The Drop
In Honor of Martin Luther King Day,
It was just a drop.
“What drop?”
“You know the drop.”
“Tell me, but first tell me why?”
“Why?” “We cried.”
“Because of the drop.”
“What drop!?”
“One who humanity denied.”
“Because, it was a drop.”
“Because of the drop?”
“The brown paper bag.”
“Matched the drop they denied.”
“But, we still cried.”
“We still cry.”
“Each time they deny.”
Copyrighted: 2016 CMM
A New Year
The crystal clings. with toast of things, remembered from the year.
The wine pours red and we nod our head to loved ones, we hold dear.
A kiss held softly an embrace held tightly, all to say, ‘I love you.’
The moment of kindness of auld lang syne, with feelings of old and new.
Embrace the old man who now lifts his staff among the stars of time…
We pray to the mystery of luck and fortune let’s sing to auld lang syne.
copyrighted: 2011 CMM
Last Ride
I pulled aside upon my path
my kickstand now down…
The wheels that turned for so long,
Now stays upon the ground…
The wind has changed and now still,
The grass no longer green
the last ride has been complete
the rider no longer seen…
I have stopped for the last time
and pause to say good-bye
I hope to see you on the trail
somewhere on the other side…
Copyright: CMM 2011
Dedicated to a friend who lost his battle with Mesothelioma
Journeyers
I see the Flicker of the fire
and lean into its warmth
as silence grows around the room
and I am left to remember.
The journeyers through my life,
friends who take a part of themselves
and place it in my hand
I lift it into my soul,
the gift soon a part of me.
As I read or listen and absorb
their spirit given away
parts of the journeyers now stays.
Copyrighted: 2016 CMM
(Dedicated to the friends near and far and some who have journeyed on to the other side)
Eagle and Child Inkling 