x and y

he is little
he is funny
he giggles uncontrollably
he walks around purposefully
stirring laundry
with a wooden spoon
- the most natural thing
people do (of course!)

she is tiny
doesn't say much
she looks at him
wondering
when she will
start to run around
like he does, trying constantly
to catch up
with one's centre of gravity
- a little blob of brown
in Brownian motion

I stand at the
sidelines watching these two, who
will one day soon label me
uncool
with my old fashioned overcoat and
corny music
for

I am just a Dad
now
and forever

expected to provide but not
to participate

while they who are young
will inherit the earth, yet
seize the day

Hello midlife crisis
pleased to meet you
you're early, aren't you?

roadkill

a red teddy bear
lying in the road
on my way to work today.
I swerved the car
to avoid running it over
but perhaps it was
already dead ...

personal post-it

whenever you feel like a clone-in-training, think of the Beeman spectrograph

no time

she smiled
I did not
ask why
no time

she waved
I did not
ask why
no time

she sighed
I did not
ask why
no time

she cried
I did not
ask why
no time

she left
I did
ask why

she said:
no time

I see ...

Him in my arms looking
up at the world
a scruffy little monkey
all hairy and sticky,
icky slippery little eel
that he was then.

Him on my shoulder
grudgingly giving up air
greedily gulped down in his
glorious quest for
size and speed,
to go forth into
the great big world,
unaware that it
is in fact struggling
to keep up
with this little man who
grabs time by its neck
and tosses it away
disdainfully as if
it matters not to ...

... Him who wears a bemused
little grin stolen from an Imp
I'm sure, now wandering
the neverlands wailing,
in existential angst,
for without a grin what
is the point of being
an Imp?

Him lying beside me
having made this faultline
in our bed where she now lies
an unreachable distance away
as He sleeps, parting
effortlessly these
once familiar seas
(Of Life, Of Desire, Of Tenderness)
that delivered him like
a little lost bottle with
its forgotten message of Love

Anger

Slow embers
burn through
memories, sweet and innocent.
It flares not but
feeds on love
which depletes like
a little pool of
fossil fuel -
Non Renewable.
It hurts as my
soul blisters from
the unaccustomed heat;
but why then
do I sit here alone
in the dark
fanning the flames?

kites fly

kites fly

hungry boys look on

they have no dreams

they have no homes

kites fly

taking the smiles

of deformed children

high up

and out of reach

of little hands

kites fly

as dreams too scared

look out of

sunken eyes

helpless

kites fly

they know not

that childhood can be fun

in other parts of the world

kites fly

while they of clipped wings

look on

and drag their drooping shoulders

and defeated faces

back to work

kites fly

while childhood bleeds away

like a wound unnoticed

till too late

kites fly

and I sit without tears in my eyes

for no one cries for them

fountain of youth

he saw his first fountain today
he seemed pensive
quietly watching
the droplets shower
around him

he dropped a penny into the pool
his little fingers closing around the
copper piece till
his father leaned him
over the edge and nudged
the coin into the water
and as it gently floated
to the bottom
made a wish:

eternal happiness

for the little person snuggled up
on his shoulder,
now smiling

A for ...

Soon it will be time for him to learn the alphabet. In true middle class style, I would like him to learn it in a way that reflects the world around him - which is why I typed each letter into google to see what comes up.

The list differs depending on the country - what you see below is from google UK. I think there is a PhD thesis in social psychology here (alongside a trite commentary on the consumerism that envelopes our lives ...)

argos
bbc news
currys
debenhams
ebay
facebook
google earth
hotmail
itv player
john lewis
katie price
lottery results
msn
next
o2
pc world
quidco
river island
sainsburys
tesco
ucas
virgin media
wikipedia
x factor
youtube
zara