April 19 - Graduation Day

Graduation Day

I graduated high school without much celebration.
I went straight on to work and started college in the Fall.
I graduated college and went straight on to work the next Fall.
Today I graduated middle age and went straight back to work.

I think this "senior" year I'm going to celebrate.
Hey, after all I get all the senior discounts now,
At every restaurant, retail store and amusement park,
From here clear back to Texas and beyond.

From here on out I really do believe I know it all,
Or at least more than all you "young people" put together.
And maybe now I'll have some time to celebrate each day,
So long as I wake up on the green side of the grass.

© 2019 by Tom King

April 18 - There Was an Old Man

So that makes me 55 this year.....

There Was an Old Man

There was an old man who ain't magical
Who thought getting old was quite tragical
He had no magic potions
Spells, charms or lotions
Getting old was all that was practical.

© 2019 by Tom King

April 17 - East Texas Storms

East Texas Storms

Eight years and still when I step outside
I look to the southwest first to check the weather,
Half-expecting to feel a cool damp gust of wind
On my face; in my nose the slightly acrid tang of ozone
And dark clouds rising up along the horizon in that direction.
Flashes, sheets of light high up at first, until you start to see,
Ragged searing shafts of light crashing down upon the Earth.
Sometimes Earth fires back.  Blue white bolts of fire,
Streaking skyward. Setting clouds alight.
This afternoon I sat for a time out on the porch,
Watching fat, gray dull clouds roll up from the west
And the sea and over the thick stands of fir;
Across the volcanic plain at the foot of 14,000 feet of rubble,
Rock and snow. You'd think there'd be some noise.
But instead, unlike an East Texas storm, these northwest storms
Tend to be silent, well-behaved, to deaden the air.
Announcing themselves with a soft whoosh of falling rain.
I miss the rowdy storms of home. I really do.
Weather should be an adventure. Snow should whistle and howl.
Rain should lash and thunder. I do. I miss it. Even the thrill 
Of terror when the dark shape of a tornado skulks past
At a distance, silhouetted against the flashing cloud banks.
It is in the clean, damp silence when the storms have passed,
That you remember to breathe and you feel most alive.



© 2019 by Tom King

April 16 - From 40 Million Miles Away

From 40 Million Miles Away

Tiny little people forty million miles away,
Took a selfie with a camera from a red desert
On a cold Martian night when home was hanging
In space almost halfway round the sun.

From forty million miles away you can see,
How small we all really are on Earth;
How easy it is to put things in their proper places
If you just step back far enough to look at them.

2019 by Tom King

April 15 - Not Quite Just Like Me

Not Quite Just Like Me\
 

My brother's the guy in the middle.
With the Green Deal hat....

We're brothers. We're built much alike
Long torso, short legs; the scions of Weebles
We walk alike. Our voices are like Dad's.
But Mikey's a man of the peoples.

Outside one can tell we both share a name.
But we're both kind of different within.
My brother's a lefty; a leader in fact,
An Occupy guy to the skin.

He marches where I wouldn't ever
With peace flags and a fuzzy pink hat.
I'm a blogger and conservative pundit.
Politically we're different like that.

I'm not quite sure how that happened.
As siblings we're an interesting mix.
I lean right. I've got conservative values.
I think he leans left for the chicks.

We hooked up a while there on Facebook,
But my comments he never quite grokked.
So brother of mine, it was great while it lasted,
But for now, I'm apparently blocked.

© 2019 by Tom King

April 14 - Ripplin' Waters

Ripplin' Waters

There is no peace can be found
Quite like that of a murmering stream.
Me wrapped in a hammock in the crisp woodland air.
Drifting in and out of a dream. 
No rumble of the air conditioner,
To paint over the clean summer heat,
Just a soft cooling breeze off the river, scents swirling
Where the forest and the river's breaths meet.
Deep is the slumber by rippling waters.
A clean kind of tiredness all through.
Muscles stretched loose from paddling all day 
In rapport with a drifting canoe.
Let me sleep many days by the river yet,
Before my long voyage is done.
Give me peaceful days by the rippling waters,
Swinging softly in the afternoon sun. 

© by Tom King

April 13 - The Subtle Art of Dozing

The Subtle Art of Dozing

When you're young (the younger the more so)
You resist no matter how heavy your eyes,
Or how tired your mind. You do a nap jerk when you
Catch yourself drooping over burger and fries.

Succumbing to the the need to doze off.
Gets easier when you get older and wiser.
For one thing you do more, so you're tired
And you're forced to be an earlier riser.

Still you resist through your parenting years.
You can't nap when there are kiddos around,
Lest you wake with a houseful of fire and smoke
With the sofa ablaze and smoke alarm sounds.

Ah, but once the little darlings are fully grown up,
And sleepless out conquering the world perhaps,
And you're old, world weary, and ache in your bones,
Then its your kids encouraging your naps.

You learn how to take full advantage of
An opportunity to catch you some zzzzz's;
Sticking a pillow under neck or a blankie
Rolled up, a hammock in a cool breeze.

I've learned at my age when I hang with my kids,
That if I'm cranky or grumpy and my wish is,
For a nice little doze, I get sent to my chair.
For a nap, and don't have to do dishes.

You'd think that as short as the time we have left is,
We'd not want to waste it in afternoon slumber.
But to me nothing's better than to nap with my dog
In my lap with me sawing lumber.


© by Tom King