Interactive Social Network with hours of Visual Poetry for YOU to enjoy for FREE. http://www.poetryvisualized.com Written to be a sequel to Robert Frost's Poem 'A Minor Bird' http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/3761/A_BIRD_NOW_GONE/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/3761/A_BIRD_NOW_GONE/ This is a poem I wrote in 1999 close to Mothers Day. The picture is my youngest daughter Heidi and my Granddaughter Ronnie. http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/3065/The_Color_Of_Love/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/3065/The_Color_Of_Love/ GENERATIONS By Reid Baer She was an angry woman and he was a pitiful brute of a man And together they screwed up their children as only a bad marriage can http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/2866/GENERATIONS/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/2866/GENERATIONS/ (after being stopped after my day-care shift) Exhausted, overwhelmed, confused, up-set. As when a toddler bellows on the rug. So small and powerless, her needs unmet, she fights me, but I know she needs a hug. (My loving parents would have belted me or worse ignored my plight) Though she resists my arms encircle her. She can't get free. "When you relax, I'll let you go." She twists and bends and yet I know she craves restraint. She longs to know that someone's big enough and cares enough to answer her complaint. So we need others constant, careful, tough. "Thanks, officer, for making me slow down. Our town is safe. I'm safer in our town." Add a caption MY WARNING CITATION (after being stopped after my day-care shift) Exhausted, overwhelmed, confused, up-set. As when a toddler bellows on the rug. So small and powerless, her needs unmet, she fights me, but I know she needs a hug. (My loving parents would have belted me or worse ignored my plight) Though she resists my arms encircle her. She can't get free. "When you relax, I'll let you go." She twists and bends and yet I know she craves restraint. She longs to know that someone's big enough and cares enough to answer her complaint. So we need others constant, careful, tough. "Thanks, officer, for making me slow down. Our town is safe. I'm safer in our town." http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1991/MY_WARNING_CITATION/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1991/MY_WARNING_CITATION/ The room was crowded, somber, stale, dark. A wake? No Shiva! (and I'm not a Jew). The widow's look at me, a question mark. I didn't know them or what I should do. "And who are you?" I froze. "I'm Marty's boy." Then from the back, "Wait. Marty Fitch? That guy with duct tape saved my life." I felt such joy. With hand shakes, hugs I stood. I thought I'd cry. He was a handy man who knew each tool. From holding things for him I'm sometimes deft. He wanted better things from me like school. I'm older now than he was when he left. I woke up feeling grateful, glowing. Glad I was his son, and proud he was my dad. http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1980/MOURNING/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1980/MOURNING/ The sea is deep. The sea is vast. The winds, they die. The winds they blast. Does he think of the sheets on the clothes-lines As he darts mid the rigging and sails? Does his ship rock him calm like the cradle? Is his soup on his chin in a gale? There'll be no sleep, tonight. Oh, where sleeps my laddie tonight? In the tub he was always in soap swells. In my womb he would bound all night long. Does he kick when he's dreaming of Neptune Or does Neptune now join him in song? The sea is deep. The sea is vast. The winds, they die. The winds, they blast. Can Sirens sing "Lullaby Laddie?" Do the Mermaids kiss foreheads ‘Sweet dreams’? On the mast in the squall will he hear me When in tears to the waves my heart screams: "Oh, where sleeps my boy, tonight? Oh, where lies my laddie, tonight?" http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1978/A_MOTHERS_SONG/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1978/A_MOTHERS_SONG/ "The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households.“ Attributed to SOCRATES Our parents, I think, taught us to behave. I know we kids were often angry, sad. It seems now happy children parents crave. But are they? Often they seem awfully bad. Who's pleased to hear a toddler's harsh lament? But I improved from feeling my distress. What did I learn when I was pleased, content? Through service I gained skills for each success. Though when my will was thwarted I felt stung, safe limits helped me find my own delight. To suffer is the cure for being young. I made mistakes. I learned to do what's right. Of course I would be happy if I could. Keen consolation comes from doing good. http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1964/I_NEVER_THOUGHT_I_WOULD_SAY_THIS/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1964/I_NEVER_THOUGHT_I_WOULD_SAY_THIS/ Enthroned within her realm she asks me "Why?" Why what? Can I recall? (She wants to know) I answer logically. "But why?" I lie this time. (a phase? a game?) I let it go. "But whyyyyyyy?” She asks again. I feel attacked. My face turns red. I glare. I clench my jaws. (If I were you I would have gotten smacked.) I use the default setting, "Just because." Well, "Why?" indeed. Don't we all fret and strive to know? But get the answer--nothing's solved. I've seen injustice and addictions thrive. Small comfort, waste of time, and what's resolved? But asking, (Joy!) her learning has begun. "Not all 'Why questions' have an answer, Hon'." http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1956/FROM_THE_CAR-SEAT_BEHIND_ME/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1956/FROM_THE_CAR-SEAT_BEHIND_ME/ Your daddy can do many things for you, Yet there is one he can't, it seems. Alone, alone, you must alone Go find the land of dreams. And I have taught you many things, but this May be the hardest of our games, For each of us must every night Go find the land of dreams. But I'll be here to hold you till You're on your way. I'll tell you what to do, my child. Abide by what I say. Pull your pillow to your cheek, child. Tuck the blanket in under your chin. Lie still. Be calm. Close your eyes, child. Breathe deep, la, la, la, la. Good night. And if you wake tonight, alone in darkness To shadows and moonbeams You'll know now, how, yes, all alone To find the land of dreams. I need you now to sleep, not laugh, child. The night's no time for toys and schemes. Your daddy, soon, himself, alone Must seek the land of dreams. But I'll be here to hold you Until you're on your way. I'll tell you what to do, child. Abide by what I say. Pull your pillow to your cheek, child. Tuck the blanket in under your chin. Lie still. Be calm. Close your eyes, child. Breathe deep, la, la, la, la. Good night. http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1940/A_DADDYS_LULLABY/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1940/A_DADDYS_LULLABY/ i I wish this baby, flannel, oatmeal, bells, Balloons a kite, a bike, a cat, a phone . I wish her tryouts, outfits, ocean swells And dances, love notes, babies of her own. But dare I wish her fevers, bruises, tears? (Who knows what trials life will make her face (Strip searches, sirens?) When you hear her fears I hope you'll help (or not help as the case May be) her try until she fails and then Despairs and asks and learns and tries again. ii Your burden's great. Some parent's can't adjust. A few (indignant, ignorant) deprive Their own (as they were once?) betray their trust. (In hunger, silence, filth some fail to thrive!) Kids cower, cringe from curses, glaring eyes. The slaps and belts, kill confidence, pierce pride. If we are only what we know, then lies And threats they'll learn (and teach). Some bold, some snide Their spirit wastes away while wasting time. Souls curse to cruelty, cowardice and crime. iii I'm sure you wish this baby party clothes. Recitals, ribbons, cars, diplomas, deeds. By now I'm sure her nursery overflows With books and puzzles years beyond her needs. It's tempting (gardeners graft and florists dye) To change, improve (each flaw makes you despair) The best are mere cosmetics feats (why try?) Because her first milk tooth, her first gray hair (And when and where) already are foretold With each cell, within the spiral code.  iv Some babes are colicky, some chatty, dumb. She'll walk, she'll talk (no matter what you do) When ready. (No doll. No slate.) She'll become Her own self with (or else in spite of) you. So while there's much you cannot do, there's much You can (and must!). Good goals, safe limits, fair, Respectful choices,(just your ear, your touch) All help. She might with your concern and care Transcend misfortune, sail through strife, create Her chances, master skills, transform her fate. v Her needs are simple, water, food and air. Her tasks, to eat and shit and sleep and dream (Or scream). She needs you now (while in your care) To keep her warm and dry. All she'll achieve In life is based on these. So let her be! Because her business now is to perceive, Test time and space and distance, gravity To learn to sing and count and climb and slide And spell, to learn to value, judge, decide. vi If not from you, from whom will she begin To master brushes, thank-yous; learn to live With others, right from wrong, and how to win, To lose, confront, apologize, forgive? No gift or gadget could inspire her to Inspire herself, help her experience The world, create her memories. For you Can make her feel she matters, find a sense Of worth, of family; and (knowing she Is loved and loving) forge her destiny. http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1911/FOSTERING_AN_ODE/ http://www.poetryvisualized.com/media/1911/FOSTERING_AN_ODE/