The Mold

another child of clay
was born to us today

mold it as we say
so it can live one day

in our world of grey

strip it of its smile
earnestness is style

its red cheeks are vile
white in a short while

make it fit our pro-file

success in work and prayer
content that life’s not fair

just strong enough to bear
our never-ceasing stare

too weak to really care

we’d like it to find relief
in substance or belief

idless goes with grief
both should be… brief

self-medicating’s the motif

let it like the others
love them like its brothers

because built-up hate smothers
the one’s we deem the “others”

that’s exactly our druthers

let it grow and die
with only a quiet cry

never a thought of why
or something new to try

it should be quite dry

this mold will make it glad
it’s like the one’s we had

anything else would be bad
it would end up raving mad

and then it wouldn’t add…

…to our world of grey

Empty home

My home is expansive
Pillars to the sky
Windows shape the light
Into colors that fly by

Doors of glossy oak
Impenetrable without key
The locks number many
Designed to admit just me

The walls are solid stone
Silk tapestries, down them fall
They glimmer in the light
Dancing; I enjoy them all

A floor of solid marble
White with golden streams
Carries me across the place
As lustrously it beams

The light’s what makes the home
It resounds in every room
From the kitchen to the courtyard
Caressing roses in full bloom

Their scent adds to the light
It too lingers from space to space
Filling me with happiness
Quickly bringing smiles to my face

My home is my only haven
I stay within by choice
And somehow it saddens me-
It’s filled with but one voice


Mom’s at work; Dad’s gone too-
Kids are bored with homework and chores to do.
T.V.’s blaring; phone’s off the hook-
No sign of a newspaper, a pencil, or a book.
Kid’s need some cash, some clothes, new shoes-
No sense in parents, if their funds you can’t use.
Kids want to have fun – no homework or chores-
Any place is better than home – children knocking steadily on friends’ doors.
Get home late, in time for bed; parents think kids have done work.
Ask dad for money, then call him a jerk.
Kids are sleeping and parents are fighting-
Underneath covers the youngest daughter is hiding.
The house goes quiet; the two old lovers off to bed-
Dreams of other places run through the family’s head.
The next morning is chaos – two bathrooms for five…
The typical family, just trying to survive.