Submitted by Michael Mayhew on January 31, 2013
making the bed, racing to get the house
halfway clean so I can work
for five hours before I
retrieve the girl from school
before her snack
before another two hours of work
before our hour of "dad time"
before dinner
before her bath
before stories
before the nightly struggle
because she so hates
to be alone in bed
before dishes
before my good wife
and I recount our day
to each other and strategize
the next
before two more hours of
work before bed
before bed
before bed
before making the bed
I wonder if I'll
ever write another poem
And then just
like * that *
I see it, feel it, know it
She's the poem
I'm the poem
We are all three
The Poem
Submitted by Clayton Medeiros on January 27, 2013
An army general once said
Overwhelmed soldiers access to
Guns and alcohol serves suicide
Distance is needed between
Soldiers and guns but the NRA
Believes soldiers’ gun rights are
More important than suicide
They want to stop commanding
Officers from talking to their troops
About the guns they possess
That so often kill them
In an impetuous moment
Fueled by access and alcohol
Submitted by joshua mertz on January 26, 2013
I got a 39 inch flat screen
And a cheap Sony Blu-Ray player
I got hot cocoa and half and half
I got books, the New Yorker and Netflix
Clear skies, stars and rain
I got my 28 foot Airstream man cave
With just enough clutter
To make it masculine
I got my seat, my cup, my comfort
And God I know it's good
But it's just not as much fun
As it could be
'Cause I ain't got you
Submitted by Clayton Medeiros on January 25, 2013
With a sense of security anyone might question,
The young bald eagle perches at the peak
Of the fir tree, not yet capable of carrying
The symbolic weight of the national bird.
The white adult elegance, still hidden
Under mottled brown and gold, appropriate
For limited tasks and responsibilities.
A tail too short for a soon to be svelte body.
Yet, as the youngster soars into flight,
A sense of elegant, endless possibility.
Submitted by Clayton Medeiros on January 22, 2013
We were never close
I know you adored my mother
But too much distance between us
Your lithe athleticism
My anxious awkwardness
Your precise engineering
My literary aspirations
The war you never spoke of
Unless it were a funny story
From Germany’s front lines
The zipper that broke
When you were blown from
The top of the American tank
Uninjured and a medal for bravery
The Vietnam War I did not join
You understood why after a time
Our common ground in my mother
I hope your sons are as proud
Of you as I am and thank you
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