Miss You

I walk tall, undefeated,

Yet the wind tries to push me down,

To hunch low, retreat into my coat of thoughts.

Grit stings my eye, blurring the world.

I fall…

    ...no one catches me

        ...miss you.

I fall hard, awkwardly,

And the pavement bites my palms,

Burns my knee, the armor of faith groans.

Heart pounds hard, frustrated and mad.

I cry…

    ...no words of comfort

        ...miss you

I rise slow, carefully,

From a tree, a red cardinal chirps, “Hey.”

Warming sun, touches my salty cheek.

Although not here, you are with me..

I sigh…

    ...your message received

        ...miss you.

Give Me A B!

Be it out on a chilly night

    or in a bright gymnasium,

Dressed in his olive drab jacket,

    this door-gunner veteran

    will stand to the crowd and yell,

“C’mon Bobcats! Let’s Get Excited!”

    And with a pump of a fist,

“Give me a B!”

How many time has he stood?

    How many time has he rallied?

Sometimes twice a game.

    He’s called out when we were ahead

    or during time out of a key play.

And, we have looked with hope

    to our Bobcat Man to lead.

“Give me a B!”

Today, we proudly stand together

    with a salute to him.

We are dressed in green

    to emulate his Bold, Brash,

    Bravado of a Barbaric cheer.

We are the Bobcat Nation!

    And with a fist held high, we yell,

"Give me a B!"

Fireworks

Ready, set, explode.

The squad bursts into motion.
"Whatever It Takes!"
rattles the fans.
Cheers shake the roof.

The mat pops with tumbles,
hand springs and cartwheels.
The Audience watches the
flash and sparks of spirit
erupting into pyramids
with flyers shooting
high into the air.

Sounds vibrate the gym.
A calliope of tucks, tumbles and toe touches are
pinnacled with elevators, extensions
and double twists
bursting skyward.
The crowd applauds the
choreographed motion of exuberant skill that
explodes and illuminates the mat
in a spectacular display
that is a rowdy, beautiful cheer
of Fireworks!

Tough Chick

My muscles are pool noodles.

    My ankle is swollen.

I have bruises and a floor burn.

    But I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.

The ball was alien.

    My hands were dead fish.

My head unclear with trash talk.

    But I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.

Like in movies and in history,

    Like in this game and the others,

There are women who stood tall and said,

    I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.

So I will shake it off,

    And I will face all doubts.

My ankle is taped.

    Time to suck it up and go.

Pass me the ball and be ready!

    I will play on;

        I am a tough chick.


For Grace

Silver Shield on Blue: Verse for the Fallen

The call comes across the state,

A trooper, a hero, on duty, has fallen.

Roadside stops routine, but ever dangerous.

A family is less.

His brothers and sisters in blue hold heads high

In honor, in pride and in sorrow and prayer.

                Oh St Michael, dear St. Jude, please

                Hear my words and bless this officer.

                “In the line of duty” are small words

                Compared to a heart of Trooper Blue.

Silver Shield on Blue Poem

Passion

                     in brief moments

it erupts

  bursting tears and laughter forth

  from a celebration of the senses

  phoenix born from another’s fire

other moments, a spark ignites

  slowly, nibbling, savoring

  all it takes in until

  it roars desire

melding with the soul

              it hungers for more

              craving to be, create, become

              the art that sustains

passion drives to do

               to go beyond mortal limits

               to the essence of true living

               expressing exuberant form

               in a clash of blood and spirit

               dancing and singing

               to live eternally

                                    in brief moments

That Guy

He may be that guy

that’s there at every game

cheering loud, or might be cursing the ref.

He may be that guy

that with few words to say,

is gruff, or might be a lullaby.

He may be that guy

that is at work, long on time,

chasing providence, or might be a dream.

Yet, he is that guy

that is there when needed like a hero,

no cape, but just as bold,

ready to leap, outside brave,

strong face, sturdy and dependable,

"don’t mess with my kids.”

He is that guy,

a paradox of close and distant,

gentle but rugged,

unbreakable yet bending.

He is that guy

that takes on a complex role

for a simple man

of being a father, a dad.

Yeah,

he is that guy.