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Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Stanley McFarland Poems - Hey, It Is Poetry Month, Stop Complaining!

Stanley McFarland here. Headley’s working on another novel, and he must be getting pretty desperate because he asked me for post material. I told him I have a couple poems. He just grunted and waved his arm in the universal gesture of, ‘yeah, go ahead, I’m beyond caring.’

Headley is so good for my self esteem. Anyway, here are the poems:

"Young" Teacher's Lament
by Stanley McFarland


When I started teaching, it was a lark
I was only playing grown-up
Barely older than my students

When kids I taught got married, I could deal
They were in High School when I got them
I could pass for twenty-something

When my students had kids, that wasn't too bad
They were babies having babies
I was still on the right side of forty

When I started teaching my student’s kids, I remained calm
Fifty is the new thirty
I still had most of my teeth

Now the kids I taught are becoming grandparents and I'm wondering
No... I'm not wondering...

I'm old.


Sparkly Dreams
by Stanley McFarland


Little boy, squirming at church.
His mother talks to the people behind.
How old are you?
You're five?
He's five too!
And his mother is pointing at him.
Now the little boy turns to look
To see the other boy that's five.

But it isn't a boy
It's a girl
A girl with blonde hair like a Disney princess.
She's even sparkly
Like she's wearing pixie dust

Little boy, squirming at church
What's she doing now? he wonders
But he can't turn around
She can look at him
If she wants
She can see him squirming
Or the stupid place on the back of his head
Where his Mom pats down after she licks her hand

But he can't look at her.
Though he wants to
He wants to look at her eyes, like the new bike at Walmart
He asked Mom for
When you're older, she said

Little boy squirming at church
The adults are standing and Dad picks him up
The girl is sparkling in the sunlight
She's in her dad's arms
But her dad is so tall
She kisses her very tall dad
She looks up and around, everywhere
And everyone she looks at smiles

But she doesn't look at the boy
She’s too high
And the boy learns that the sparkliest things
Are unreachable dreams
A lesson he never unlearns


How 7-11 Profits from Self Awareness
by Stanley McFarland

Yo, Dude, Wanna go down to the 7-11 and get a slurpie?
No thanks, I’m too busy losing hope.
Huh?
You know, working through a meaningless existence and plugging away at irrational tasks to prolong my parasitical gnawing at the great cheese ball of life.
Oh.
I’m shooting for the protagonist role in an existential novel.
That would be nice.
Unfortunately, existential literature has been out of vogue for forty of fifty years.
Bummer.
Yeah.
So… slurpie, then?

Sure, I’ll drive.

Here's one of my favorite TV characters.  Rest in peace, Andy Kaufman.