Being at peace and soothing,
not embraced as wise,
can I warn her of boys
when she sees my bad
happenings with girls?
I fear the lady grown
but not grown who thinks
me a joke,
older than airplanes.
She lives here, but I
am no better than boards
in the roof, a stick man
wishing her a good day.
Every day.
I want to be the guru
who teaches her
about loving human beings,
but I am dead fish to her.
I want to show her
how patience works
so beautifully in my life,
but she does not have
enough to sit with me.
She calls me Buddha man,
but I am merely
a recovering alcoholic.
I hope she doesn’t drink
like I did. I pray about that.
stillfugue 
#1 by Evelyn on March 8, 2011 - 7:59 am
I LOVE this.
My new favorite of yours.
brilliant, simple, honest, raw, naked.
wonderful writing Carl.
the last stanza positively destroys me…
#2 by Carl on March 8, 2011 - 11:13 pm
OOOOH, I love it when you have a new favorite. It’s gold to me. Now I have to go figure out how I wrote that.
#3 by Promising Poets Parking Lot on March 8, 2011 - 9:34 am
love this one…
smiles..
perfect plots and rhymes….
#4 by Carl on March 8, 2011 - 11:15 pm
Thank you for your comment.
#5 by screen_scribbla on March 8, 2011 - 11:48 pm
Ah, man. That was fantastic. Sounds like my household on most days, only she would be a he. I guess that’s a hangover of us AA types – there is a thin manual and we know what to do, but God knows we don’t know how. Well, at least I don’t, and that’s why this poem resonates.
#6 by Carl on March 9, 2011 - 7:20 am
Ah, yes, thank you for the comment. Maybe the key is remembering that we don’t know how and being at peace with that. The young ones change and I think they come around – We become wiser as THEY get older…
Thanks for the comment.