Pressing Buttons

     A child can be funny,

  Goofy,

        Aggressive,

                       Or Rude,

       Polite,

                Irritating,

           Thoughtful,

                 Or Deceitful.

    Depending on the situation,

You never quite know,

            How a child will react,

       Much like monkeys,

                   Pressing buttons,

   

      The behavior seems random,

To an outsider,

                But to the parent,

         It’s the learned behavior on how the child,

                   Has learned to communicate,

     Ultimately good parents,

              make,

                 Great children,

                But the traditional communication techniques,

           Have permanently been eroded

                           By a the cluster fuck bomb,

                known as technology,

    While kids can pick up technology,

             In a flash,

                 Parents,

       Are still maintaining their,

            Primate form,

                          To catch up.

Terror

            Is simply a tool,
       Used by the minority,
                    To attempt to overcome,
              A unfair conventional fight,


    These are last resort,
              Desperate measures,
        Of a doomed ideology,
                  Used large doses,
             are detrimental,
                       to ones original purpose,

          But in small doses,
    concealed from the general public,
                it seems quite effective,
           Since the action is never truly identified,
                                as terror.


       These unconventional tactics,
                     are frowned upon,
              Through propaganda networks,
                     Who inform the general public,
                 What is,
                         And what is not,
                             Acceptable,


      The definition,
            of terror,
                 Itself it truly hard to truly understand,
         Under the bias,
                     Of opinionated,
                 News networks,
            
              With a limited, 
                   bias choice,
   Which opinion is right?


             I can not say.....


        But one thing I know,
               Is history tells us,
      Whoever wins,
                         Is right,


         And for that,
             I cannot blame,
      Or fault users of terror,
             Since my own county,
          Or any country for that matter,
                 Used small doses,
                       At one time 
                          or another.


         In a world where we try,
               To fight fair,
             One must realize,
                 There are no rules to war,
             If you hope,
                   To be right.

Nightmare

In my lifetime,
       I have experienced many nightmares,
   but none that tried to blatantly scare me so,
                     Since I was a child.

  It was dark,
         pitch black,
  I could see nothing,
          because
       my eyes were closed.

There was a faint sound,
  a mechanical sound,
    an engine,
        And the slight vibrations,
 from the road,

 I'm in motion,
     now what's this commotion?
  Who are these panicked voices?

            I noticed it was warm
   Approaching hot,
           But a window was cracked,
     and cold air blast,
              heightened my senses.

      I opened my eyes,

     We were driving down the road,
Going too fast,
            Dad were going too fast,
   I shouted to my father,
             as he gripped the wheel,
       
 I tried to shout,
            But i was in shock as the vehicle,
       raced to the top of a hill,
           briefly lost contact with the road,
    And is racing down,
         At an alarming rate.

         My father struggled,
                   to keep the car straight,
        almost losing the vehicle,
              to the left,
                  and to the right,

        The front tires
                  suddenly blown,

         But the speed of the car,
              never slowed,
                          Until we approached,
                  Another vehicle,

                        Smash,

                          The car was now connected,
                   to rear,
                         of a police cruser.

           His lights went on,
      And his eyes,
            In the mirror,
                   Told the story,
                begging for us to stop,

           but we couldn't,

           The road was running out,
                we approached a turn,

                A smell of burnt rubber,
                    potently perfumed the air,
              But it was no use,
                      The police cruser was forced off the road,
                      And with a bang,
         and hit a tree,
            
               We continued down the road,
        Several terrifying miles later,
                As the incline of the hill gave way,
          To the valley floor,

          my father
              was finally able to pull the car,
                    to the side of the road,

             But he didn't stop,
                              The car continued,
               down a dirt access road
                      to a lake with a wooden dock ,
                 casting dust in our wake

                  When the arrive at the lake,
             My father was first out of the car,
                    visibly shaken,
                 As we all chased after him,

              But
               Something didn't seem right,
                       There was a smell,
                 Of salt,
                      The Ocean,
                   A feeling,
                              Of Worry,

               I Caught up to my father,
                      but he seemed crazy,
                 insane,
                       Out of place,
                           He didn't understand what happened,
                  and was holding a gun,

             I can't live with what just happened,
                           He stated,
                    I looked away,
     
                I can't live with myself,
                     Look at me,
                   My father shouted,

                  I couldn't,
                          I refused,

            The sound of the gun went off,
                          As tears rolled down my eyes,
                    I heard my sister shouting.

                                Why...

           And those sirens blared in the background,
                searching for answers,
                        
              I was crying,
                    Litterally, crying,
                 As the officer put his arm around me,
                But something still isn't right about this,
                               My father,
                          Wait,
                                My father has already died,
                                    He's dead,
                             Which means
                                             I'm dreaming...........


               I awake in my bedroom and notice my black sheets,
                        wrapped around my body,

                  There grip tightening,

                              I sensed disappointment,
                                   Was in the air,
                                Taken by logic,
                                      foiled a well planed ,
                                           scare,

                       A figure emerged,
                            Grabbing my soul,
                      And throwing it against the wall,
                                  As my body lay,
                          Motionless.

A Crack in the Night

        Pssssssssssssssssssha

      A Deep voice,

          Laughed hysterically,

               As if possessed,

                     By another.

                        Psssssssha,

   The oscillating choice,

        Randomized numerically,

              As if programmed,

                       By another

                             Pssssssha

                                   A minds rejoice,

                                      Worlds
                                               blended generally,

                                              As if created,

                                                By another.

                                                        Psss………………….

                                                 Hold up,

 

 

                              Now Breath,

            Till you come,

Down.         

Is anything free?

Thanks,
   for giving me,
      the time,
   of day.

            This small request,
       meant all the difference,

          In my day,

         And sorry for,

             If I wasted your time,

   

     I can not give back,

         Those lost seconds,

        Which you willingly gave up,

            When you checked your watch.

    It's not like we walk around,

 With price tags,

        Over our heads,

     With per question rates.

       

Dreams of my Father

       Not too long ago,
   I spoke with my father,

            He begun the conversation like,
                   he always did,

       Excited and to the point,
                 For,
      Christmas was just around the corner,
               And he knew i waited till the last minute.
              To shop,
      Every year,

Ring ring,
     ring ring,
     
      I answered
               "Papa Bear,
         What's up?"

           "I want a a new eagles hat"
                       the conversation began.

     "My old one is a little worn and scuffed up
           and I'd like you to get me a new one for Christmas".

           I smiled, "I think i can do that,
                  do you have any color reference on color
          or the old or new era?"
   
        "Nope,
   just nothing crazy,
         out of the ordinary you know."

 (Note: He does not like big words or crazy logos on hats just something simple. like a picture of the old school Philadelphia eagle from the 90s came to my mind)..

                      "Do you accept the challenge?" he stated?

     "I of course accept,
           but i;d like to get you a fitted hat this year
                          do you know what size you head is?"  I asked

           "I don't believe i have one of those.." sounding unsure.

   "Well do you think you could ball park it" I asked,
            "I could probably find a hat that has elastic in it that stretches.." I continued

        Large, extra Lar.......

      "Wait a second, I think I have an idea" he interrupted
                he gave a- grunt,
             Most likely rocking his body upward,
                  when he gets out of a comfortable location.

      I heard him walk to a closet,

             And tried to live by the sounds of his day,

                 the clutter the closet door makes,
                            when you open it too fast,
                                      (on tile)

                The click of the closet light,
                       When you pulled down a string,
                               as it brightens his way,

               And the rummaging through boxes,
                         to find what he needed.

           I finally had to interrupt him,
                   What in gods name are you looking for? 

           "STRING!" he exclaimed, and I FOUND IT!

             I started to giggle,
                      what exactly are you going to do?

                   Measure my head,
                        give me a second,

                 He put the phone down for a second,
                        with a thud,

                       After a a minute he came back,
                       23.5! 

                      23.5 that sounds a little big for a head are you sure about that?  I asked.

                               What do you mean I measured my head around, I stated my head was 23.5.

                I was getting ready to explain but he instantly knew his error,
                        "They must mean the radius" he exclaimed.
               
                   He found a had and measured to the center 7 1/2 he stated.

                        Sweet, I'll get a gift certificate just in-case. I replied.

                 We chatted briefly about fishing,
                            even though,
                                    It was December.

                       Talking about catching,
                                     the elusive trout,
                               and looking forward to bass season,
                                         reminiscing "about the great catch"

                              A period of fishing,
                                        Where we caught fish,
                                       non stop on the lake,
                                             for an hour and a half.
    
            I was going to give him Christmas ideas,
                       but he stated he already had me done.

                     And with the timer going,
                He said he would see me soon,
                            And to drive safe on my journey up,

                 And with that we said our good byes.

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                               For the last time.
       
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