Mother Knows Best

A tribute to the poet’s mom who turned 80 this week

Robert Young
starred on TV
before my mom was old.
He played a father who knew best.
At least that’s what I’m told.

Those were the days
when dads were king.
Like Beaver Cleaver’s dad
or Ozzie Nelson…
or Ben Cartwright…
Their sons were lucky lads.

But what about
The Beaver’s mom?
Or Ricky’s?
Hoss’s too?
While dads are great,
there are some things
that only moms can do.

Like wipe your tears
when you fall down
and scrape your chubby knees
or say “God bless you” meaning it
each time you had to sneeze.

My mother
nursed me back to health
whenever I was sick.
She brought me juice
and comic books
and popsicles to lick.

She told me
that I was the best
when I was just okay.
But in her mind I really was
Her praises made my day.

She taught me
all about the Lord
and helped me understand
the pressures I would feel at school.
She helped me take a stand.

My mom has heart,
but also brains.
She helped me cram for tests.
And when I needed love advice,
it’s true, my mom knew best.

When I left home
and took a wife
She felt somehow replaced.
I know that it was hard for her.
I saw it in her face.

But bless her heart,
in time she saw
she had no need to fear.
I needed both. A wife and mom.
She smiled from ear to ear.

She’s one
creative grandmother.
My brother’s kids
and mine
love spending time
at Nana’s house
They think she’s quite divine.

When Dad got sick
and nearly died,
my mother made me proud.
She mustered courage,
modeled faith
and prayed for him out loud.

As time went by
and she slowed down,
my mom refused to stop.
This fashion plate
can still turn heads
and loves to thrift store shop.

At eighty,
this one who gave me birth
embraces each new day.
She journals what she did
each night
before she hits the hay.

Her name is Star.
Uncommon, yes?
That’s fine.
My mom’s unique.
She sparkles like
the jewels she wears
while cuddled with her Greek.

And so this tribute
to the Star
I proudly
call my mom.
Keep twinkling
and light my night
until God brings
your dawn.

*This poem is dedicated to my mother, Star Asimakoupoulos, who celebrated both her 80th birthday and 56th wedding anniversary this week.

Old Man Winter Isn’t THAT Old

Why this incomparable season should be carded

Old Man Winter’s
not that old.
He’s still virile.
It’s so cold.

He’s not weak.
His strength is scary.
His bulging biceps
leave us wary.

Healthy lungs?
He lacks no breath.
When he coughs,
there’s brutal death.

Caution! When he
blows his nose,
arctic blasts
bring swirling snows.

This old man
still has his teeth.
When he bites
there’s no relief.

And his fingers
sure can reach.
From New York
to Newport Beach.

Windstorms,
blizzards, icy roads.
He’s to blame.
He’s not that old.

If he tried
to buy some beer,
he’d be carded.
That’s quite clear.

Following the Doctor’s Orders

Why Dr. King’s prescription for racial inequality needs to be acted on

I think we’ve really come quite far
since Doctor MLK, JR
prescribed a medication
for our nation’s skin disease.

What Martin clearly diagnosed
reflects how quickly bias grows
when prejudice is overlooked
or countenanced as right.

The good Doc’s remedy was clear.
We start by looking in the mirror
and taking stock of how we tend
to justify our hate.

And then he said to exercise
(not with our legs but with our eyes)
by being blind to color
as we look at those God made.

But then the doctor left us quick.
He died when we were still quite sick.
And yet in the past forty years
we’re on the road to health.

Our skin disease is clearing up.
We’re drinking from a common cup.
And as we swallow pride,
we taste our true equality.

Daughters Need Their Daddy

The reason Brett Favre should retire

Do not fret that Brett’s retiring.
Sixteen years is quite a run.
Number 4 is Green Bay’s glory.
‘Cept for Vince, he’s number one.

Not since Bart starred in the sixties
with his legendary arm
did good luck prevail at Lambeau.
Fans agree. Twas Brett Favre’s charm.

All the same young Brett discovered
life can sack you off the field.
When his dad died prematurely,
seemed his heart would never heal.

Holmgren coached the Gulfport QB
sanded smooth Brett’s rough MO,
challenged him to curb his drinking,
fathered him when he was low.

Now’s the time for Brett to father
while his girls are still at home.
Both his daughters need their daddy.
Life’s too short for just the phone.

So Long, Saddam

The slaughter of the innocents revisited

So long, Saddam. Your rope was short.
And all because a Baghdad court
determined you deserved to die
for heinous crimes you did.

Like old King Herod long ago
who slaughtered babies row by row,
your ego was most satisfied
when you were murdering.

And though confronted by wise men
you quickly put an end to them.
When threatened in your leadership,
your blood ran cold as ice.

But, nonetheless, one babe I see.
A fragile life. Democracy.
You could not kill what longs to live.
It was the death of you.

May God have mercy on your soul
for in the end your life long goal
left countless mothers childless.
Both in your land and ours.