Heads, Shoulders, Needs and ‘Toes

When my decrepit body slow to rise,
Is sought so earnestly by children’s need,
Then rise it does to the occasion’s size;
For them but tell me how much I must bleed;

I made them so I must for them provide,
Though in the moment this form doth protest;
Their faith in me, too large, can’t be denied,
Not since the time they first drank at my breast;

They make me better than I elsewise am,
Still only they could move me with their cries,
To run to them or even give a damn,
When I must from my netted hammock rise;

Bloodsuckers drain me dry, my fears have fled,
If comfort I can give for their bonk’d heads.
 

Happy Campers

A pound of flesh is scratched off with the blood,
Expected as the mom mosquitoes’ goal;
I knew the bargain stepping in that mud,
Now fifty bites itch from forehead to sole;

And yet it truly is my children’s due,
That I should brave Ma Nature for their sake,
The anti-natalists might call it too,
For having made kids suffer my mistake;

No child of mine will suffer that old claim,
That their conception was mere accident,
Or that fire ants undermine the flame,
Of s’more passion for life lovingly spent;

True every weekend’s not spent in this way,
My blood is theirs, though, every single day.

 

Burnout

Okay, I lied; my flame has guttered out,
From time to time I shed no light at all,
And yet before I yield my drowning bout,
I pass what flame persists to those on call;

Whether their Dad or village that remains,
I have to plan to drown and die a while,
I have to cook the food before it rains,
Like quests in Zelda with no inn for miles;

Sometimes I find no fairies to revive,
Full-hearted dedication to my role,
But we will live if we do not quite thrive,
Is love’s small flame enough to feed their souls?

The love’s not small, but I still sometimes am;
Yet lucky for good friends who help our fam.


Grown Ups

Be diplomatic
thoughtful, careful, and mature
not neutral or false.


Escaping Haikus

Traditional ones
have a "cut" and show season.
I'm Springing this one.