I’m Pissed Off That I Now Need to Wear Glasses

A silly little ditty about something that’s been bugging me lately…

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Two little windows that allow me to see

Damn things are never close enough for me

So many glasses in my house are now residing

But when I need them *poof* they all go into hiding.


Not to brag but all my life, my vision’s 20/20

All day long, no matter what, clear vision for me aplenty!

And then a blur crept in, it happened step by step

Getting glasses?  Okay, I thought…what the heck?


Where are my glasses now, does anybody know?

My computer screen?  It’s appears to be a  fuzzy thing aglow

Can’t sit down to read my book til I find my specs

A larger font on my Kindle is now what happens next.


Can’t wear them outside when the sun is shining bright

Sunglasses atop of eyeglasses, ugh, I must look a fright!

Can’t check out the  ingredients that are written on the label

Can’t read the paper my daughter wrote that’s sitting on the table.


Can’t read that new magazine while waiting for the doc

Can’t spy the current time upon that teeny tiny clock

Can’t read the price upon the tag of that Old Navy shirt

Can’t clean the spot! Why? Because I can’t see the fucking dirt.


Can’t play the new game because I can’t read all the rules

Can’t find the perfect pair that make me look real cool

Can’t change the channel – the tiny buttons on the remote

Can’t figure out what could possibly

be the antidote…




Wearing the damn glasses everywhere I tread

But then I can’t see far away… so put them on my head?

Nothing says “middle age” like glasses on your head

But beady baubly glasses holders are something else I dread.


When you fold and tuck them gently into little spaces

You’ll soon find out exactly why there are such things as cases

In the kitchen!  By my bed!  Glasses everywhere!

How do people manage to have a single pair?


One point five to two point-oh, I keep moving up the ladder

Loss of vision gradually just makes me all the sadder

Could I be a candidate for a miracle like Lasik?

No, says the eye doctor.  You just have to grin and take it.


Getting older comes with it wisdom and maturity

And I think eyesight lends itself to a feeling of security

So I better start to focus on the fact that glasses help

Instead of being angry and feeling sorry for myself.


So when you are feeling pissed off like me and you think your vision’s gone

Just remember how good it feels when you put those damn things on!














Ode to Blockbuster





did it get so complicated to watch a show

Man, I fucking

just want to watch something

Not go through

ten thousand channels

They say to watch this show or that but

I am just plain

overwhelmed at the prospect of so so so

Many.  What if I choose

poorly?   And waste a couple hours just





So damn many good shows they say

but isn’t that the


Sometimes I think of a movie I saw

long ago.  Well

where do I get it?  Sure as shit not in that

little red box outside the

grocery store with lines of people on a

Friday night

looking dead tired from a long day

but still

holding pizzas and sodas and treats for

ungrateful kids

who don’t even know the meaning of

a real video store, man.


And that’s not even talking about



I guess I’ll just read my book.   Sip my drink and then

my brain can

lay it all down.

Snow it Falls

IMG_5712Snow is all about in the tranquil grace of falling


lightly, as though by slow motion reel

the flake, she bobs and twists on the hands of her

gentle friend, the wind.


Snow chills the present and sends away

the idea of the grocery store replaced by

visions of sleds and laughter and hot cocoa the thrill

of a snow day eclipsing the gray day to day.


Snow, that sly little girl she surprises and comes up

behind you and gives you a tickle and makes

you giggle all hopeful and renders you a child as well

all squishy and cozy and ready and willing.


Snow, she is so silent you must cover your ears and

not let the loud-less noise-less overwhelm you

and you long for the sounds but she hushes you and

comforts you with the quiet-full world.


Oh snow, your crunch and hiss delight and so

when the rain and sun come and take you so quickly it

feels like an ending but I know I think I dream you

will come again so I will wait, snow.  I will wait.


photo by Barbara Paulsen at tandemechoes.com



The Ring Stolen From Me



My fingers are tiny, I don’t even think a size 4 but

the ring it unraveled into 7 diamonds nonetheless floating round

and round my eensy weensy digit.  It was (or rather is) gold 14 karat

diamonds scattered throughout shiny new precious and

intoxicating like love and marriage and romance and pain.


You bastard I came home and the house was a wreck

overturned dressers opened drawers clothes hanging out

the door broken and kicked in and my jewelry box broken in pieces

on the floor.  I walked on clothes and boxes and dirt from your shoes

when you emptied the contents not caring not thinking.


Making a beeline for the place of my ring in it’s place I found the

detritus of a staged assault on security willingness safety peace.

You asshole it took about 15 minutes to scour the house  you were looking

for objects belongings  money  you took jewelry computers  a telescope

and you left behind questions and footprints.  I wish you had just taken

the television.

The Town I Remember


There was a young girl and she was from

A beautiful little town

And then it occurred to her as she stirred

That this place was now dragging her down.


When little, there was so much

That made her laugh and play

Then as she grew she realized too

How she didn’t want to stay.


The frozen lake, the grand canal

The endless big green lawns

The after-schools, the long carpools

With the sports team we played on.


It all looked great upon first glance

Those houses so lovely and huge

But keep your word in this suburb

That there’s nothing wrong with you.


If you have an drinking problem

Or an affair you want to keep quiet

Can’t pay your bills?  Your son’s on pills?

Those things you’ll want to stay silent


Everything here is about the address

And the utter prestige of your zip code

Because in this place it’s an utter disgrace

For your weaknesses to be shown.


Oh if only! I could embrace the sweet warm days

I remember from most of my child-hood

Ignorant of the class warfare that was cast

In my beloved, my flawed neigbor-hood.

photo from Barbara Paulsen at tandemechoes.com.


















In Praise of the Road Trip

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There comes a time in a family’s life

When the constant busy-ness causes some strife.

Runaway calendars, carpools from hell.

The to-do list you made continues to swell.


At this very time, before you explode

You decide its time we all hit the road.

You cancel appointments, you cancel them all

You then pack up the van with all it can haul.


The van seems to actually burst at it’s seams

So much it is packed with luggage and dreams.

As you pull out of your driveway, map in your hand

“Stop touching your brother!” Your husband demands.


The open road beckons with sights worth praising

The vistas and lookouts that are just plain amazing!

The van becomes littered with wrappers and bottles

And you realize your kids’ throats you don’t want to throttle.


It takes a few days to let go of your phone

And surrender the fact that you’re never alone

But along the way surely you realize with schmaltz

You love these three people despite all their faults.


You use your binoculars, your travel games too.

You laugh and you laugh until your face turns blue.

You rest and you think, you wander and roam

And pretty soon it’s time to head back towards home


Your road trip was filled with photos and time

To reflect on the good stuff you have with your tribe

You didn’t realize all the places you’d visit

Or how high the fines are on a speeding ticket.


So now that you’re home,  everyone has spread out

They’re working, in school and out and about

In your heart, warm feelings they wiggle and flow

When your mind starts reflecting on the open road.




photo by Barbara Paulsen at tandemechoes.com.


The Bravery of Words


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I hope it’s okay to be silent

               in a world that is so loud and violent

I think it’s enough

               to be quietly tough

                                         in my own way a life I can brighten.


The acts you may think of as brave…

                           the ones that draw all the raves….

                    big deeds and big actions

give the same satisfaction

                              as the words you authentically gave.

photo by Barbara Paulsen at tandemehoes.com.



Your Skin, I’m in.




When you are in your skin you are livin’.  Man, I mean your skin it captures you, coats you, lays it down on you.  Feeling it through and through whether be me or you.   Our skin, we are livin’.  Your skin is my skin, I be breathing your skin on mine.  Loving it, smoothing it, warm and tight.  Like a sheath it covers but never enough.  Because my skin, your skin, I feel it.  I know it like it were full of holes.  Which it is because your skin my skin are one and the same skin.  One long smooth sheet, baby.  It’s there.  Beware.  Thick or thin, your skin.  I feel it.  I’m in.


photo by Barbara Paulsen at tandemechoes.com.


She is Pretty Cool



Damn this girl drives me crazy all the time, she is

Always leaving her shit around, complaining about this or that,

Under her blankets hiding her phone or otherwise

Getting on my last nerve, really knows how to

Hurt my feelings…or her sister’s or her dad’s but

Then we always forgive her anyway because we know that

Even behind the mascara and the black outfits and the door slamming,

Real girl is in there and when she comes back to us this teen thing doesn’t

Seem so bad…she even seems like herself again, and she is pretty cool.




this amazing photo is by Barbara Paulsen at tandemechoes.com.