The second year

He kept the Presidential desk

and hung the curtains

They hung heavy in the fishbowl

hovering floor-length


scratchy catalog stock

ape-like drapes

like swirls of blackened brine shrimp

empty froth for barracudas

Well intended

Cloak of Containment.

I choked on the blinking they caused,

They’ll never be the Greatest,

the dog and pony flow of child,

the fairy wand, the plush, and LEGO

Come and go….and stay awhile.

This  retro Bronze and

Iron starched establishment

is Reinstated

Belated State of the State,

Good Old Boy Regiem.

I preferred Progressive

honest, public, meek and mild,

Choice and …accountable mercy,

Play and “Mother May I?”

transparency and glitter grooves.

I preferred all these to what has come

in chain store, out the door remedies

I preferred “Suffer the little children

to  this dry wall, float and tape

escape the community pool

For not so goodness sake

This year we hooked and caught some


fishy family counseling

divorce court tug of war

naughty parents keeping score

Sure is Sad

Glad we had a little bit of Heaven

for awhile

Sadder now

We Cant keep the darkside in

We can not keep it out

the pout and shout,

the Upside down plays generationally

its broken records

skip and scratch

the vinyl face of unimaginative

broken school system

Pretending ice and bandaids

will take the swelling down

believing the answers  LIE in TESTING!

clinging like a grubby Golden bandaid

we applauded but lost

I Polish up the silver strike plate

believing God hears prayers

I wipe and smile away the tears

and every day make the drive

park the lines like wax on paper and crayons in boxes

another weary year

Cuz you can’t stop on green

You must GO!

What else would you do at 52?

Just can’t stop the guiotin routine


How can I stop?

Light finds a way

It seeks and finds and blinds you

like truth and antiseptic

Light comes softly, loudly

humbly, proudly

sometimes bending corners and swallowing swords

pokes into pockets for wish watches or lockets

for carnival tickets and cotton candy

and soaks into hearts

All the while

Reality sags

like a warm soggy swim bag

Pack it up. Pack it home

It wets the bed

and then you have to sleep on it

Until tomorrow

Tomorrow is a Mew day

of Pawsibilities

and coffee late’ creation

Where the water runs clear again

refilling a paint brush cup

and palette with sunrise

I face another day


David Habben finds color

where the curtains hang






About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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