Quill #94 - Upon the Marriage of Our Son and the Gaining of a Daughter (2006)

As a babe, your eyes were lined with care.
At two, you knew more than a child should bear.
Your voice, throughout the years, has grown more strong,
Deep enough to share another's song.

We enjoy the addition of a heart.
A daughter more will be a blessed start,
To what we hope will be a happy life
With young ones, pets, a warm and loving wife.

Just don't forget that you are still our son,
And more than that, were sibling number one.
No pow'r on earth can take us from your side.
We stand by you, your children, and your bride.

If future trials make your song feel weak,
To carry on as needed, do not seek
A path that takes you ever far from home.
For solace, there is no need to roam.

What we can, we will do; it's our role.
May your songs, joined together, make you whole.

Quill #74 - Solipsism, Or Reverse? (2010)

When my husband sleeps
His body drifts away.
I can turn over in bed
And pound the mattress on his side.
I strike nothing.
I can stand and look for him,
Even moving the covers,
And he doesn't exist.
When his work calls for him,
Because he hasn't yet arrived there,
I can honestly say he must have
Already left because
He is not in bed.
But the moment I call his name,
He wakes, reappears, and answers,
From the very spot I was hitting,
Under the covers I moved to seek him.
And he's frustrated now
Because he must hurry,
Speed everything up,
Or the boss will not believe us again,
The next time he disappears.

Quill #49 - Soap Dish, Part Deux

For 25 years, I suffered in silence. This one little thing annoyed me, but I managed to remain quiet about it, until one day I snapped. I yelled at my whole family about the way they put the soap on the soapdish in the shower. How could they not know which side was up? One way gave maximum air-drying and minimum melting and they always did it the wrong way - or so I thought.

Almost the same day that I snapped, I found out I was wrong. I went to each person at whom I had yelled and apologized. I told them I was wrong, I was sorry for yelling at them, sorry for being wrong, and even sorry that I was the kind of person who sometimes yelled at others, and who was annoyed by stupid things. I asked them for forgiveness and told them that they had been right about which way to set the soap after a shower. Then, I asked them to return to their previous method. Each one was gracious and accepted my apologies. Each one asked me if I was sure of what I wanted, to which I nodded emphatically, and each one agreed to return to their old ways.

God, in his infinite wisdom, or Loki, in his infinite tricksterhood, has seen fit to remind me of my failings every single day for the rest of my life. Every member of my wonderfully loving family, who would do anything to make me happy, remembers me yelling at them, and what I wanted then. Not one of them remembers the apology.

Quill #21 - Buster Daddy (2010)

"Smash his face!" I thought,
Rooting for Marlene in this play.
She swings a crowbar at him a few times,
But the physical is not her realm.
He gets a sore toe and feelings of loss.
She gains some bruises,
A new life, and love,
Harmonic resonances,
A re-gifted son,
A better deal all around than even Roosevelt's.
This generation, one of the first to understand
Why help was needed,
Still has too many voices
Sounding out the praises of abusive corporate partners,
Feeling trapped and unequal to the demands,
Unable or unwilling to leave,
Like battered spouses everywhere,
Downtrodden,
Lacking even a cast iron skillet for weaponry,
Afraid,
And betrayed,
By their own loyalty and lack of options.

Quill #20 - Artist Descending Life (2001-2002)

It's a good thing artists are brilliant

when we can't afford to pay the electric bills.
Understanding balance is an important skill
when we have to do the books every month.
Only a starving artist can make a "Still Life of Fruit"
substitute for the real thing.
Next time let's have "Still Life of Steak Dinner."
Temperamental natures are a blessing
when the bed isn't big enough for two.
Dear Soulmate, in future lives,
let's take turns being practical.
You go first.
Baths are much cheaper when you can draw one.
When they told us we would suffer for our art,
did you think they meant winters, too?
At least we can use warm colors.
We do our best impressionistic work
when we can't focus on our real goals.
I wish somebody rich would tell us what they like
so we could paint it.
It's a good thing artist's don't need their ears to paint.
Then again, they do make an interesting brush stroke.
We do our best work with nudes
when we can't afford to do laundry.
Would you like one cubist or two with your drink?
When the baby was born,
we understood Dadaism for the first time.
Our best life insurance policy is death.
That's when the paintings sell.

Quill #10 - Thief in the Night (2001)

We lived in her upper room
Until you stole my life.
I would have given you money,
Why did you take my wife?

A million wives you've had till mine,
A million more someday,
Biggest polygamist in time,
Orgasmic when they pray.

Lost and hungry, cold, alone,
Twelve steps away from any home,
No lighthouse beacon ever shone.
No foghorn warned me not to come.

I don't know where to go from here.
Brother, can you spare advice?
Lost the passport to my future.
For what crime did I pay this price?

I never thought I'd lose her.
There is no higher court to sue.
No mortal man can ever win
Against a groom like you.