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

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

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

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

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 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

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

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)

A voice so loud, I do remember,

Early evening, in late December

“Ho ho ho”, with a thunderous caugh,

Waking from slumber, we began to laugh.

Why was he here and we not asleep?

As our grandfather yelled, “kids come take a peep.”

“It looks as though Santa has come too soon,

You are awake and giggling in your room.”

We tip toed and peered around the hall to see,

a bearded man, red suit, looking back at me.

“Ho Ho Ho”, he winked and continued to sound.

“You are awake and wide eyed, I have found.”

We stood there in awe, and not a word said,

He hugged us, “Now get back to your bed.”

I remember the night, Santa came too soon.

As I tried to fall asleep, that night in my room.

Copyrighted:  2016 CMM