A Parent's Ode

Cute (G)

Stuart Douglas Staub


I remember what it felt like
When the balance seemed quite right
I'd sleep right through the morning
Whether nightmare or delight

Always I'll remember
What it was like back then
To wonder what another life
Must have, could have been

Kaleidescopes of panic
Cooling gels of bliss
There's nothing that a parent can
Responsibly dismiss

For those of you who do it
For those of you who don't
For those who twitch in abject fear
And say "I can't, I WON'T!"

There's no job more like Heaven
There's no task so much like Hell
Than this constant toil of leadership
That cracks the hardest shell

If you can pull it off I say
You've made it to the top
If you can simultaneously
Do homework, soothe, and mop

Then all the other grueling tasks
Drift away to dust
When one can say without delay
"I don't wanna... but I must."

And what is our return for this?
A cruddy "World's Best" mug?
A snotty kiss at 6AM
A lice-infested hug?

A call from Mrs. AppleBite
"Your kid ate paste again"
"I told him not to play with that"
...Blame his Uncle Ben

A drawing made from half-chewed wax
In 60 "brilliant colors"
Though a shining work of art
I'd settle for much duller

So all in all the end is this
We'll never get it right
Washing hands and clothes by day
Cleaning puke all night

And even the returns we get
Are few and far between
For it is hard to love someone
Who seems so stern and mean

But every now and then, no lie
You see the efforts showing
When they take on a task themselves
You'll spend the whole day glowing

And though "thank you" may never pass
Their little, germ-smeared lips
A smile as lessons finally learned
Flow from their fingertips

Is all it takes to finally
Make you uncloud your worth
And gratify your endless task
On this uncertain Earth

And when they walk out of your door
In however many years
That all the anger, blood, and sweat,
Anguish, pain, and tears

Was for their love, better or worse
And still that love will grow
As they become the future
For through that door they go

As I sit here wondering
Was the life I taught them useful?
Did I do my best to make them kind
Just, and brave, and truthful?

Were all the years I spent in vain?
Do they thank me in their prayers?
Do they wonder if I did right?
Do they wonder if I cared?

But, one day, they'll bring a gift
A beast they made one night
He'll be all slobber, poop and snot
A grandma's lap delight

Maybe then I'll see the truth
That Moms and Dads forever
Never may quite get it right
This parenting endeavor

But neither did our folks, or theirs
It's not a perfect science
To teach good manners, honesty
Truth, and self-reliance

All you need is what you know
And most of us know best
How to live life to its most
How to grasp this quest

So pass it on, pass it on
Let them know the same
That no matter who's the winner here
It's still the same old game

I've never seen a bigger smile
Than the one on grandpa's face
Except maybe the grandkid's smile
Full of love and grace

If you can make it, I'll wager
You'll grow old quite fast
For youth does not hang 'round too long
With kids, it just won't last

For in the end we teach ourselves
For God has NEVER said


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Being a Daddy has given wing to inspirations that probably never would have seen the light of day.  And this is a feather from those wings.

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Nothing at All

Not So Cute (G-PG)

I live life simply

Henry was right

This world it seems

Is wound far too tight

Telephone cables

Direct TV

DVD players

Pentium PC's

Cellphoned transients

Satellite razors

Internet toilets

Golfbags with tazers

Perhaps I have

Drifted a bit

Perhaps I have

Dramatisized it

There are no houses

Yet I think

With nanotized scrubbers

Cleaning the sink

Nor digital knickers

Who never fail

To thicken when sensors

Say "Not rain, it's hail!"

I'm just rambling

Pay me no mind

My words seem harsh

Yet their truth is kind

The day may come

When all will end

Or at least

Begin again

When it is done

Will you recall

How to do nothing

   ...nothing at all?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Though the very fact that this piece has been posted on an electronic poetry forum may seem a bit contradictory, I hope not ALL of its meaning has been compromised.

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Finanical Obligations (To Be Continued)

Who thought of this system called credit?

I wonder if it was started by the creditor’s observance.

Or was there one reluctant soul that sold thine ancestry to the devil?

Either way, did they think it was a good idea at the time?

Hopefully there was a moment of second-guessing

With the weighing of the pros and cons.

I wish there were a re-thinking by the beggar

That put the situation into better perspective.

Maybe the family establishment was in dire straight

And had no other plan to get what they desperately needed from the greedy?

Famine has a way of breaking the strongest of spirits.

Maybe it wasn’t as dramatic as that.

Sometimes, simple wants are as powerful as 1,000 steeds racing to make

The pack as jealous as can be.

What made this person look upon another as an institution of in debt salvation?

I’m curious to know if there was an awareness of future repercussions.

What prevented the clues of the dues that were due from getting through?

Perhaps the arrangements were not made to be paid attention to.

I wonder if the entire process was made to reverse easily.

Was the person just looking for a temporary fix the way

a young mother hands over a pacifier to her screaming child?

Was there ever a realization that a revolving door system was instantly created?

Is it possible that even a mutual agreement can be unbalanced?

What happened when the notice spread wild fire notions to the masses?

Did a scout bell ring throughout the town alerting all the disilluded to the slaughter?

How did the brother who borrowed the dime for just one time end up being multiplied?

This boggles my mind.

How much information was given before the option was chosen?

Was the donor generously scrupulous to grant a reprieve?

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Caught In The Act


Strolling down my lane

Keeping to myself

Attending to my agenda

Just being me.

You intersect with eyes gawking

with nothing valuable to offer

Daunted by my indifference

Caught in the act, with silent scorn.

Missing a route for new friendship

when a simple salutation would have only been humane

Instead a prejudgment that repels

A disgusted display that derailed common pleasantries.

Too bad.

We could have been well acquainted

Narrowing our indifference

As I continue to stroll...

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The Truth Of The Matter

From the cortex chambers ventriliquists speak

with their distant voices probing

the soul's quiet palace.

They demand necessities: Amen -

and forgiveness; they repair despair,

teaching lessons from straw to sticks to bricks.

Yet what sad reality, the acceptance of

the mediating value of lies,

when the truth was never better.

Why is it some disguise body and mind,

until they are forced into the open

exposed by their glib shallow rote?

While, all the voices in the palace,

ventriloquists of inner thought,

remain quantum reminders,

that from the heart, to the great light that fills the sky,

all accept the gift of consciousness - and in the end,

it comes down to the truth of the matter.

© Eric True

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When You Leave

Get ahead every time you're able

take the finer things from the table.

Take your gains take your profits

steal your own cause from those who lost it.

Run every kind of game you can bleed,

you'll still have nothing when you leave.

Put your faih in all your gold cards

mention them proudly when things go hard.

Fake your records fake your facts

take another page from your income tax.

Score on everything you can get for free

you'll still have nothing when you leave.

The sun still shines above the dark clouds

Birds in the sky all have a nest house.

Get out and look about from mountain to sea

there's no simple things that you won't need

and you'll still have nothing when you leave.

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Running Away From It All


Oh starry night

Cloak my presence so that I may remain unseen from these  hounds that surround me

My feet are wounded, saturated with the blood of ridicule with my scent being a dead give-away

Because I'm running

Running for my life

Running away from it all as fast as my 2 legs may carry me through these dense forests

For salvation, or my perception thereof, lies ahead...

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Drive Pass Me



Why should I smile, greet, or acknowledge your presence.

Why, when the sake of my well-being is the least of your conserns.

You'll drive pass me on a dark highway even if you saw me shivering in the blistful cold.

I would attempt to cross the street and you would speed your chariot faster even after you saw me ahead in your path.

Driving off without a brief thought of the seething act of malice you've just commited.

No matter. I don't give a second's lapse of care about you and you the same, so we'll just leave it at that.

So sad. Us, still segragated in compassion against our forefather's ideal wishes of unity is seemingly too distant a reality...

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I hear the rain,

It bleeds the pain

Of a perfect world gone bad,

Of a sunny day turned black,

And there is no going back.

This is the point of no return.

What we sow is what we burn.

What we reap is what we've earned

For rejecting what we've learned...

That violence only breeds more violence.

For this,we're damned to hear the silence

Of our hearts as they stop beating,

And the rain,

Forever bleeding.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

When will this vicious cycle of violence and hate ever end?

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