sixkings

That's where I dropped my shoes off of my feet. At the end of my bed, spread my toes and lay back and stretch out my back. Rolled over and watched the trees and prayed a little. I've been there, the whole time.

Current Mood: accomplished

My daughter has been having a heck of a time staying in her own bed. So this I wrote for her.


And when the fairies finished there dance they all went back into the hollow log for a long nights sleep. All the fairies that is except for Alyson. She wanted to dance all night and never understood why they didn’t. The moon was bright and full and there seemed no reason to stop dancing. She floated around and pranced from leaf to leaf floating effortlessly in the night breeze. She felt so happy dancing that she continued to float higher and higher with fairy dust sprinkling down under her in the moon rays from above.

With her eyes closed and a smile on her face she floated so high until her head bumped into something.
“Ouch!” she cried out. She opened her eyes and above her small fairy body was a great white glowing globe, the moon.

“Who’s there?” whispered the big white moon.
“I’m Alyson, a dancing fairy”
“You should be asleep like your family in the hollow log.”
Alyson looked down from the moon and could see her log where she sleeps. It was a long ways down and she was a little scared because she had never been this high up before.
“I know I should be asleep Mr. Moon but I just wanted to dance more in the light.”
The moon smiled at Alyson and he said he was glad she liked to dance in his moon light. He then told her that she needs to sleep.

“You see Alyson, if you don’t sleep at night you cannot dance the next day because you will be too tired. Please go back down and get to sleep.”

Alyson frowned and didn’t want to go back down to the log. She looked at Mr. Moon and told him she would go back down and would try to sleep.

Alyson started floating down and she reached the tree tops and ran into an Owl.
“Hoot, Hoot, who is that?” said the Owl.
“I am Alyson going back to my log to go to sleep.” She said.
“Where have you been, hoot, hoot?” asked the Owl.
“I ran into the moon and bumped my head, he told me I better get back in bed” she said.
“I do not sleep at night, hoot, hoot.” Said the Owl.
“When do you sleep then Mr. Owl?” asked Alyson.
“I sleep when the sun comes up, and I wake up when the sun goes down.” He said proudly.
“Do you not get to see the flowers blooming, the stream sparkle in the sun?”
“Nonsense, I have the Moon and the stars to keep me company.” Said the proud Owl.
“I would miss laying in the warm sunlight, looking for rainbows and puffy clouds.” Said Alyson.
“Then my dear, you must go and lay down, otherwise you will sleep all day tomorrow.” Said the Owl.

Alyson waved good-bye and went down to the log. She went inside and there was her brother fairy Jordan sleeping, her big sister fairy Devan sleeping. In the back was Mom and Dad fairy both asleep and snoring fairy dust. Alyson went to her bed and climbed inside under her covers. She thought about what the moon and the Owl had said. She likes to be out when the sun is out. She decided from now on she will always go to bed so she doesn’t miss tomorrow.

She lay on her back and looked up through a hole in the log. She saw Mr. Moon with a smile and then he winked at her.

Toothless Fairy

It is a little known fact that the Tooth Fairy will not take the first tooth lost by a child. We found this to be true as our 5 year-old daughter lost her first tooth this past weekend. She pulled it out on Saturday night. She put the tooth under her pillow because this is what you do when you lose a tooth. When she awoke in the morning she had money under her pillow and the tooth she had lost still lay in its place.

My young daughter asked, “Why didn’t the tooth Fairy take my tooth?” And of course I told her what is not well known, that the Tooth Fairy does not take your first lost tooth. She then queried me asked, “Is that why I didn’t get any paper money?”

I walked in and saw a Tootsie Roll leaning up against the counter. She had a sweet Peppermint Patty and some nice Mounds to go with it. I asked her for a Bit O Honey. She gave me a Snicker and told me to Take Five. She was a Smarties, but I wasn’t going to let this Sweet Tart make a Twizzler out of me. It was my Payday and I wanted some Almond Joy. She got all Laffy Taffy on me and thought that I was a Jolly Rancher. I told her I was more of a Red Hot Cinnamon kind of guy. She told me she was a Jaw Breaker and didn’t date Lemon Heads. I told her I had a Licorice Whip and Nibs at home. She gave me a Kiss and it felt like a 100 Grand. We went back to my place for a Whatchamacallit. She gave me a Blow Pop and I gave her my Salted Nut Roll. It was Nutrageous.

She had fallen deep within my heart
I could feel her crawling, tearing it apart.
Inside of me she was, a love that burned addiction
She cried to get out, causing nothing but pure
Affliction.

I drank to soothe my pain
Hoping she would stay in vain
The part of me that became her couldn’t change
I wouldn’t last just the same
my tears would fall like rain.

She had infected me with her fever,
I was sickly in love and couldn’t leave her
She struggled and wanted to breathe more
Smothered she said, save her

To let go of everything I ever wanted
The emotions that I was living on
Now to think that they would all be gone
I fell, on my sword, I couldn’t fight
The very thing that kept me shining in the light

And when she left
My eyes grew dim
My breathing slowed and no longer
Did I glow or hunger

I walked a smile
Down to the corner
Where a young girl
Sat and stared
For a while
In the air
At what seemed
To be nothing

I sat with frown
On the ground
Next to her
To see
What I couldn’t see
That she could
Which still looked
Like nothing air

I grimaced a stare
Right into
The air
Where she looked
And I pointed
To the spot
Like an aim
From her eye
To mine

She stood with
A glare
She reached out
And she took
Her spot
Of air
And walked
A smile away.

How many days has it been?
I know I can’t go another
Without saying I love her.

And how many hours has it been?
Two, four, six
Since our last kiss?

How many minutes has it been?
Since my last thought
Without her.

Several years ago I wrote this for my wife and I wanted to share it with you.

To sparkle
Like falling rain
In the sun
Is where I want to be
With Autumn leaves
Floating down
All about me
Birds whistling
Softly atop trees
Is where I hear
A talking stream
Trickling
Down by my feet
Is where I feel
Sand saving my every step
Imprinted
Is where I smell
A breeze
That carries a scent
Of time spent
Is where I want to be
With you

My son who is in the fifth grade started full contact football a couple of weeks ago. My son is short and wiry and several other players on the team are much larger. I encouraged him to play a safety position which puts him away from the big offensive and defensive players.

Last week he moved himself up to a linebacker position and was shooting the gaps (spaces in between offensive and defensive players) and making tackles like I had never seen him do. It was scary because I'm afraid he might get hurt, although I was also proud to see my guy out there taking an initiative. As my wife and I sat and watched him make us proud, 20 yards off to our left was the largest swarm of dragon flies I'd ever seen. They swirled around like the airplanes did in King Kong, they would mass together and then spiral out only to come back together again.

When my son's practice was over I went over to the huddle and they broke practice and he and I walked back to our van. I said to him with a smile, "Do you know what did wrong?" He looked at me curiously and said, "What?" I told him, "Nothing" and he smiled and he said, "Dad, did you see those dragon flies?"

If there was ever anything I want my children to recognize its exactly that. The nature and humanity that swirl around us. These tiny moments we can squeak out and have such a greater insight into who we really are.

Slam, slam. Sob, sob. “There’s a tear in my beer…..” plays off in the background and it’s the mother of all hang-overs – returning to work Monday morning.

You walk in and the pretentious little blonde hair bitch at the front desk has the nerve to say, “Good Morning” with a bright-white smile that shines a distasteful light that really says, “Hah, drug your ass in here again didn’t ya”. I smile at her and nod my head.

Make my way down the long hall of doom to the office of no return and pass three other people who have the nerve to rub it in and ask, “How was your weekend”? I smile and nod my head thinking, if I’m back here at work how the hell do you think my weekend was? I didn’t win the lottery, Publishers’ Clearing House didn’t knock at my door and it didn’t rain down pennies from heaven.

I push my way pass the sea of unfinished paperwork from last week and find my desk. I sit down in my chair that has a mirrored imprint of my ass and crash land in it. As I let out a sigh of relief that I made it this far the boss comes in and says, “When you get settled in could you please print me the Monday morning report”? I smile and nod my head and think “What the hell do I look like a vending machine. You push your quarters’ worth of happiness on me and I’m going to crap out a miracle!” Wonderful, blessed Mondays.

I print out the damned Monday morning report, which is actually done on Fridays. Had we called it the Friday afternoon report it would be some light-hearted experience that we could all giggle and laugh about over cold beer and hot wings Friday night. But no, it has the ominous title of Monday morning claiming it to be some report destined to clench the very balls of humanity and squeeze them until tears fall.

Once the report has thrown-up from the printer I walk across the hall to the mighty throne room of boss. There, perched like a hawk ready to swoop down and rip flesh from my skin I hand over the report. The eagle-eye of the boss looks over the report for a good minute and then says, “These numbers look great, thanks”. I smile and nod my head.

The nerve, I sweated and slaved over this report for a good 15 minutes and all I get is a “looks great, thanks”. What do they think I am, a glutton for their sadistic pleasure? Bastards.

I make it back to my landing strip, ass print still warm in my seat and the boss calls me right back over. I hold my tongue and say, “Be right with you”. I air-lift my lower extremities out of the chair and make the return trip back.

“We want to give you a raise, so you’ll notice an increase on your check starting today”, says the boss. I smile and nod my head. I walk back to my office knowing all along this is just some evil ploy to get me back next Monday morning for another grueling morning.

(Dedicated to my wife)

I was a complete meltdown.
The ice cube in her drink
Shaken not stirred
Unable to think
Stripped and sipped first
To quench her thirst
She set me down
I clinked and I clunked
My ice cubes spun around
She called me out
For a second round
I poured myself
Like warm whiskey
And she crackled like ice
And kissed me
I filled up her glass
She drank me smooth
Wet to the taste
Licked her lips
And shook her hips
As not to waste
A single taste
Pulled an ice cube
Into her mouth
To savor the flavor
My hands melted south
Down to her waist
I tingled like carbonation
This wild and wet sensation
As sweet as wine
We intertwined
Twisted a lime
And poured another
Dropped in the last ice cube
And salted our top
Drank to the last drop
And all that was left
Was the theft of the ice
She smiled real nice
Kissed me deeply
Ice tucked away neatly
I was completely
Melted down
A puddle on the ground.

I like these a lot
Ice cream poke-a-dots
Cinnamon red hots
Pretzel knots
Forget-me-nots
Blackberry brandy shots
One arm bandit slots
Flower pots
Ink blots
Juicy sausage brats
Tater tots
Leopard spots
Big white yachts
I like these a lot

On Saturday morning my wife and I and my five-year-old daughter went to shop for groceries. It was a slightly gray day and the humidity was high. We placed ourselves in our mini-van and drove to the store. Since it was early in the morning, around nine, we found a parking spot without the hide and seek that it usually takes to find a parking place.

As we were sitting inside the van and my wife making sure we had the check book, I spied an airbrushed license plate on a car straight across from us. In case you’re unfamiliar, in Indiana we only have to have a back license plate, unlike other states that impose the dreaded front license plate. This allows people to make their own plates or “vanity” plates and place them on their cars.

I said to my five-year-old daughter Aly, “Hey, you know what that plate says.”
“Where”, she asked looking all around the parking lot. I pointed to the one that was airbrushed in bright neon purple letters on black and then spelled it out for her “J-E-S-U-S.”

She said “Jesus”, was silent for a moment and then looked at me and my wife and said, “Is he from Jesus?”

Sweet.

She was a portrait untainted
He was water-color-painted
Both unacquainted

They met at an Art Gallery
Both looking at a display
“Poppies” by Monet

She was standing next to him
He struck a pose
Like “David” by Michelangelo

He brushed up against her
Her face blushed with color
He was an inch or two taller

He studied her face
She was no cheap copy
A blond beauty in yellow flip-floppies

She looked at him
He was outside-the-lines
A hansom man of free hand design

They stood like a still life
A photographic moment
There eyes fixed with intent

“Are you an art scholar?” she asked.
“No, I’m just a cartooner”
They both smiled all the sooner

“Do you paint?” he asked
“Only in oil” she said
“I use ink, primaries, yellow, blue and red”

He went to touch her hand
Like the famous ceiling of the Sistine Chapel
Her lips were as red as an apple

She looked at him
With a Mona Lisa smile
And then ran off in style

The picture he painted
Was one out of beguile
He didn’t know what to make of that smile

Such is the art of romance
Sometimes it’s all song and dance
And sometimes were left to free-lance

I was born and raised in the dry flat lands of North Dakota. Despite its dryness it hosts one big wet spot. I spent some of my summers as a youth out at Lake Sakakawea, the largest man-made lake. It was so large that when you cruised across the lake you couldn’t see the other side. At such a young and ripe age, and not seeing the ocean until my mid-30’s, that seemed so awe-inspiring. My parents had friends that had a cabin there and we would go and visit them and stay. I have a lot of fond memories of the events that happened there.

The one I wanted to share was about a summer evening I spent in my early teens sleeping on a pontoon boat on the water.

My parents’ friends had three daughters and they varied from plus or minus two years from my age. Pam, Cindy and Dawn. Pam was the youngest and Cindy was the oldest. They had a big blue pontoon boat. The bottom of the boat had enough seats to sit about sixteen people and a ladder in the middle to climb up to an open balcony area.

On this one particular evening, Pam, Cindy, Dawn and I went to spend the night on the open balcony of the pontoon boat. We got there and laid out the sleeping bags and sat on top of them. Summer nights in North Dakota generally still stayed in the low 70’s so it was comfortable to sleep on top of the sleeping bags. We eventually talked ourselves out about the day of water skiing and jet skiing and then laid our heads back and ventured our eyes to the wide open starry sky.

That’s when it happened. Something I’ll never forget and pray my children can see one day. Up in the night sky, speckled with stars was a brilliant bright rainbow of color. It ebbed and flowed like the waves lapping against the boat. It was the most magnificent sight I had ever seen. Red, blue and gold colors faded and brightened before my eyes. I remember lying there and feeling so small and yet excited.

I’ve never forgotten that moment. From where I live now I can look low into the eastern night sky and just above the horizon you can see with the naked eye the red planet of Mars. It is a strange marvel to look up into the darkness and see a red and gold star twinkling back at you. I’ve shown my children the red star and I’ve told them this story. They look at me like I’m crazy. It’s one of those moments I guess, where you just have to be there.

If you ever have a chance to see the northern lights, please don’t pass it up.

There they sat wagging their tattle tails.
Swinging a story from one side to the other.
One cried out “It was my brother”.
Hoping that they would not be in trouble.
They scatter like birds when the adult yells the words,
“One more time!”

Run to their room where they start a rhyme,
Something sour like sucking on a lime.
One thing leads to another and they start to wail
Shaking the tattle tail.

“She stepped on my toe, he squashed my playdough,
I can’t hear the radio”.

Run, run, run, to be the first to tell
See if mom and dad yell
It’s a game that no one can win
Telling the tale a yarn to spin.

I look at him and there I am.
I couldn’t mirror the image any clearer.
I want to be him and he is me.
My son.

Carry that sword tote that gun.
We’ll take the hill by night.
Comb my hair
give me some good smell’um
Here comes a girl.

I’ll be the first up in the morning
make mine eggs.
Play that computer game
Strategy first.

Compassion felt
And anger dealt,
Hugs kisses
Nothing he misses.
My son.

Dirty little monkeys
A bunch for a banana
Swing in trees
Skin their knees
Pick their fleas

Dirty little monkeys
Have lunch with their nana
Come in threes
Hate bees
Like to eat jelly beans

Dirty little monkeys
Living in Indiana
Won’t eat peas
Like to tease
Have to say please

Dirty little monkeys
Been to Alabama
After a sneeze
Wipe on a sleeve
Check out my button belly

Dirty little monkeys
Never been to Montana
Junk food junkies
Skinny not chunky
Always like to be funky

I love my dirty little monkeys
A bunch for a banana
Have lunch with their nana
Live in Indiana
Been to Alabama
Never been to Montana

Why does the spoon receive so much glamor and the fork is always on wrong end of the utensil drawer.

If you think about it, the spoon reserves rights to such promising sayings as “spoon fed”, “silver spoon” and when laying in bed you “spoon”. There is the teaspoon, tablespoon, sugar spoon. The mighty ice scream scoop is a close relative. Not to leave out the saucy slotted spoon and soup spoon.

While the fork on the other hand receives a notorious fame as the “fork in the road” or a “forked tongue”. Then there’s the pitch fork, well if that doesn’t just call the cooking kettle black. The fork on the other hand only has it’s bitchy thin sister the salad fork.

And why was it when the cow jumped over the moon the fork ran away with the spoon. Is there some kind of conspooniracy theory going on here.

Damn the spoon and let the forks be raised. Is there not any other pleasure than stabbing your fork into a succulent piece of meat, vegetables or pasta.

You’re never going to spoon your steak, not going to scoop your salmon or dip into a jar of pickles.

Spoons be warned.

It’s all incidents and accidents
Mishaps and what nots
Talking crap and cheapshots
Loud mouth crackpots
Hollaback don’t know jack
Love’em and leave ‘em
There’s no season
She said he said
My side your side
cold hard truth can’t abide

Knock down drag outs
Kicking and screaming
Breakdown and out
Run for cover
A night in the rutts
Right in the nuts
I’m a fighter not a lover
Your mama looks like my brother

Built for speed can’t last
Running on fumes
Almost done at last
Don’t haste, we set the pace
Gotta do right cause I’m doing
All wrong, going to finish strong.

Up beat slow feet
Feel the heat
Burning, yearning
Discerning and there’s no
Guts churning
Wild ride
Take it in stride
Keep your head up
its all about the pride

So when you come back out for recess
You better bring what looks like success
Cause I’ll be coming down real hard on ‘em
With my schoolyard anthem y’all