Trying to Fly

I asked a bird to teach me to fly,
He chirped and twittered and promised to try,
But when a feat requires wings,
Arms become quite useless things.

I asked a fish how to breathe in the murky blue,
He said that it is just something you do,
But if you have lungs instead of gills,
Breathing underwater usually kills.

I asked a dog to teach me to sniff,
He barked, “Open your nostrils and take a whiff,”
But it seems I lack sense in my olfactory;
I cannot decipher messages on a pole or tree.

There are “impossible” things a person should try,
But we were not made to slither or fly.
And, in trying to be all that we can,
We tend to forget the limits of man.

People Jam

There’s a traffic jam of people,
Filling up the street.
No car can detour past,
That sea of rushing feet.

The traffic light told them to stop,
The red hand tried to hold them back,
But the people kept pushing past,
In stampeding, unstoppable pack.

The police came out,
Sirens wail, whistles scream,
Irate drivers are honking horns,
But the people rush on full steam.

Finally, the cars were crowded out,
The police grew tired of being mocked,
The traffic lights fell asleep,
And still – the people walked.

Inspired by my trip to New York City.

Bad Manors

I am the Lord of Bad Manors,
Beside the Immaturi Sea,
A splendid place without silly rules,
Where everyone is free,
To do whatever they want,
And never give an apology.

We never cover our mouths when we sneeze,
Say “thank you,” “you’re welcome,” or “please”.
We lick our fingers and have a food fight,
At precisely 6 o’clock every weekday night,
We burp and brag and hit and holler,
Never wash our shirts or tuck our collar,
We scratch and sniff and slap and scream,
And get away with anything.

There are no rules at Bad Manors,
Everyone is as rude as they want to be,
Without being bossed by a parent or teacher.
It’s wonderful! But strangely,
Everyone who is here lives here;
No one ever visits me.

Stars

Photo courtesy of NASA. Click for more images!

God spread out
A woolen blanket
Of dark cold,
Then he took a handful of gems
Richest treasure,
Crusted with filth,
And like a gambler
Wishing for luck,
He blew His mighty breath on them
And they burst
Into flames
Of ice blue
And majestic purple
And dazzling gold
And brilliant orange
And scorching red
And He threw them
Across the blanket.
He scattered them
Across the dark expanse
Like a gambler
Tossing his die
Before a crowd of passive faces.
And He named them
For they are His
To give Him glory
And to illuminate this world
Stifled in an oppressive dark
And to mystify us
For all ages
As they silently sing for joy.

Monster in my Closet

There is a monster living in my closet,
With bloodshot eyes that burn and glow.
My parents say it’s my imagination,
But he is really real, I know.

He has slimy scales and horns and claws,
I can hear his angry growls,
The rays of sun would melt him cold,
So only in the dead of night he prowls.

There’s a monster living in my closet,
I see his toothy smile, like a roaming shark.
Before I go to bed, I turn my nightlight on.
(Because he is afraid of the dark.)

Let’s Run Away

Let’s run away to sea, my dear,
Leave our past and problems on shore.
Let’s hoist the sail and plot our course,
Far from the life we knew before.

But if the waves become too rough,
Let’s find a jungle where we can hide.
We’ll hunt for food and swing on vines,
Wild and free, worldly worries aside.

But if the lion starts to prowl,
Let’s build a castle in the sky.
We’ll water our garden with clouds,
Spending our days where eagles fly.

But if the air becomes too thin,
And our love remains thick and strong,
I suppose we’ll come back home again,
To live and learn our whole lives long.

Let’s Set Sail

Yes, it has been a lovely day.
The sun is shining, the water is blue.
I love to watch the birds with you,
And hold your hand and admire the view.

And yes, I’ve enjoyed your company,
Your humor and manners never fail,
But doesn’t this feel cliché and stale?
Why don’t we just set sail?

I want to traverse a distant shore
And learn an exotic, alien tongue.
Why waste away while we’re still young,
Like a beautiful song that’s left unsung?

This boat has become my prison cell,
Teasing me with all my thoughtless hopes.
Lift the anchor! Cut the ropes!
Stop watching the world through telescopes!

We won’t follow a despotic map or compass,
Let’s wander where the wild wind blows us,
Find ourselves where nobody knows us,
And explore whatever this wide world shows us.

Making a Quilt with Memories

I am making a quilt with memories,
Of every person I have ever met,
Of where I have been and what I have seen,
Of the things I hope to never forget.

I’ll snip a stained piece of tablecloth,
Where I crudely drew and learned to write.
I will steal a shred from our battered couch,
Where we laughed together every night.

I’ll take a piece of my baby blanket,
That is too loved-out to really use.
And the ribbon from my furry darling,
The queenly cat it broke my heart to lose.

I’ll collect a special piece of clothing,
From every member of my family
So they can shield me from the ruthless cold.
When winter comes, I hope they think of me.

I am making a quilt with memories.
There is a loving warmth in every thread,
That reminds me of home and who I am,
No matter where it is I make my bed.